#we’ve BEEN very unhappy - for WEEKS

[bibleofficial]

im soo fucking high for 11am & im living for myself

[moonstruckme]

Hey lovely!! Once again have been binging your page, and I saw you mentioned the lack of sirius in your request and I had this idea the other day! So it’s been like the longest day of classes and reader comes back completely slumped like ready to sleep a thousand years and sirius comes in to see her snuggled up in bed, his sweater on, and knocked out cold. Then he is all soft and wipes off her makeup (because half the time I fall asleep with it on and wake up w mascara smudges) and reader wakes up full of sleepy mumbles to sirius. Preferably female reader but if your more comfortable with neutral obviously do what you’re more comfortable with! Much much love to you and your writing 🤍🤍

Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting!! Much much love to you back :)

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 895 words

Sirius very nearly sits on you. 

He thought you were out and was planning on waiting in your room for you to get back, but now he sees the evidence of your presence: your bag discarded in a heap by the door. You’re hardly more than a sliver of forehead and the tips of curled fingers sticking out from under the bedspread. He reroutes the second he sees you, straightening from his near-sit and biting his tongue to contain a curse. Your breathing is heavy and whistles slightly on the way in. You’re out cold. 

Sirius’ heart feels unbearably tender in the way it often does around you. He swears, when he gets like this even a toothpick would be a lethal weapon against him. He’s a boy made of mush.

He pulls the bedspread down so you don’t smother yourself, revealing your lovely face with tiny smudges of mascara caked under both eyes. And the collar of the sweater he’d found missing last week, the one you’d claimed to know nothing about. Sirius has every right to be angry about that. At least ostentatiously indignant, as is often his preference for dealing with your rare offenses. But the sight of you makes him more fond than is reasonable. You’ve pulled his sleeves down so only your fingers peek out, and the collar is all scrunched up under your cheek, and Sirius is fucked. 

He is absolutely, totally fucked. There’s just absolutely no way he’s got enough room in his heart for this much love. It very well might kill him. 

He keeps moving to give his heart something more productive to do. You’ll wake up feeling frustrated and extra lethargic if your eyelashes are sticky with mascara, and Sirius knows your routine well. He finds the supplies in your cabinet and barely breathes as he swipes the makeup remover over your skin with careful fingers, wiping away the traces of your day. It had to be a long one, to send you so deeply into sleep before the sun has even finished setting. The dying light illuminates your face while Sirius works. He tells himself it’s good for practical purposes as well as just making you look especially lovely. He can have both. 

Your eyes take the most persistence, and that’s when you start to rouse. 

“It’s just me,” Sirius says softly when your hand twitches up as if to feel for his wrist. “You fell asleep with your makeup on.” 

“Oh.” You relax impossibly further under his touch, voice breathy and dulled by sleep. “Thanks.” 

“Anytime, gorgeous.” He gets the last of the mascara off but isn’t ready to be done touching you, brushing the back of his forefinger along your hairline. “What’s done you in so early, huh?” 

Your eyes open for a moment, like you want to make sure he’s really there, before closing again. A pinch appears between your brows. “Headache,” you mumble. As if remembering your misery, your head sinks into his sweater like a chrysalis. 

Sirius’ brows pinch too, though your eyes aren’t open to witness his sympathy. “I’m sorry, lovebug. Did you take something already?” 

You hum in unhappy affirmation. 

“Hasn’t kicked in yet?” 

A halfhearted huff. “Or it’s not really helping.” 

He cards a hand through your hair, rewarded when the tension in your features eases slightly. “I’m sure it will, we’ve just got to give it time. Anything else I can do to help?” 

“Not really.” 

“Oh, come on, sweet thing.” He’s wheedling, covering a tad of desperation with a good heaping of teasing. “You know, I’ve been told that just looking upon me can cure a myriad of ailments. I’m like—what do the muggles have? Their god-human guy.” 

You crack an eyelid, the dryness of your expression undermined by a twitch of your lips. “Are you saying you’re Jesus?” 

“I’m saying that I’ve been told I’m sort of like Jesus,” Sirius corrects you with a grin. He rubs at a nonexistent smudge of makeup on your cheekbone. “So there’s got to be something I can do for you.” 

You release a great, heaving sigh, like your boyfriend is really asking a lot of you. But when you look up at him, there’s a familiar shyness there. “Do you wanna just lie with me for a bit?” 

“Baby.” The teasing leaves Sirius immediately. He softens like dough in your hands. “Of course I do.” He shucks off his shoes before shuffling out of his pants, knowing your rules about outside clothes in bed trump your occasional bashfulness when it comes to nudity. There’s nothing sexual about this anyway. You tuck into Sirius as soon as he’s close enough, and he brings his arms around you protectively, one banded around your ribs and the other curved over your shoulders so he can cup the back of your head. “Don’t be silly,” he whispers with faux malice, kissing your hair. “I always want to do whatever you’re doing. Are we going back to sleep?” 

“Maybe,” you hedge, but Sirius can already hear your voice stretching. You’re slipping away even as your head eases closer to him, your breath tickling his collarbone. 

He tries to match your languid tone to help along the process. “Sounds good, gorgeous. I’ll be here if you need anything.” 

Your reply is barely audible, but Sirius’ heart warms nonetheless. “I know you will.” 

[hughesybear]

“You know, you’ll read all these things about this or that unhappiness, I can tell you this: they’re happy for J.T. They’re genuinely happy for him.” - the actual Michael Bublé

Canucks roundup February 2nd 2025 - February 9th 2025 (featuring more Bublé):

Sherwood after missing four games: "I haven't chirped anyone in a week. Feels like a couple months."

Michael Bublé on Demko, Petey, and J.T.:

“I wrote Thatcher last night [after his 3-0 shutout against the Avalanche] and told him that I was just happy for him. I know it means a lot, and he loves the people here, man. He just loves it, it means a lot to him. He’s a really competitive guy, and I know they care. They want to be here.

“I can see Petey’s turning it on, and he’s happy, and he’s doing - he wants it real bad. You know, he wants to show everybody, he wants to show the doubters, and he wants to do it for himself, for his coach, for his teammates.

“You know, you’ll read all these things about this or that unhappiness, I can tell you this: they’re happy for J.T. They’re genuinely happy for him. Those guys are happy for his success, they know he had to go, of course they know what they’re losing, but they’re also happy for themselves. That’s a happy dressing room. That’s a bunch of guys who are really excited to show us that they’re galvanized, that they want this badly.”

D-Petey has been learning how to fight from an Abby teammate:

Quadrelli: “I got told very recently by a source out in Abbotsford that, either after after a practice or before a practice, D-Petey was out with one of the AHL guys learning where to grab on the jersey, and he was practicing some form for how to fight […] he was just out there practicing his technique.”

Chytil on Hronek (who chirped him in Czech during the media scrum) after getting to Vancouver:

“Yeah, we’ve played a couple tournaments together […] he’s a very good guy. When I heard about the trade, he was texting me right after the game in Dallas. It was very nice from him, and then other guys on the team reached out to me as well. It’s very nice from them, and I’m very happy it was like that. With Filip, yeah, he’s helping me already. I’ve been here a couple hours, but he’s helping me a lot, and I’m very happy he’s here.”

Marcus Pettersson trains with Höglander and Karlsson in Skellefteå in the offseason

After 17-year-old Jackson Drum suffered a spinal cord injury while playing hockey in a tournament, the local hockey community (including family friend Teddy Blueger) came together to support him and his family

[kittenofdoomage]

Midnight

Summary: New Year’s Eve brings a surprise at the end of a crappy year.

Pairing: female!reader (Y/N) x unnamed male

Word Count: 3610

Warnings: angst, mentions of break ups of long term relationships, anxiety, fluff, masked dances, semi-public smut, some mild breaking and entering, fingering, full vaginal sex, some mild feelings of unhappiness

A/N: This is another one of those "pick your character" fics that I can't really post on Ao3, so I'm posting here to wish you all a very happy new year. I hope everyone has a peaceful and blessed 2024, and that the fall of the patriarchy/death of capitalism finally comes to fruition. Enjoy!

Originally, her plan for New Year’s Eve had involved a family-size bag of Doritos and whatever movies she could find on Netflix. She had no work for the next week, no boyfriend since Andrew had dumped her in the summer, and when Dee had surprised her with a ticket to the annual city New Year’s Masquerade Ball, she had ultimately failed to provide an excuse good enough to turn it down. 

“All of us are going,” Dee had informed her excitedly, making sure Y/N had no wiggle room. “I’ll help you find a dress, we’ve got a huge car booked -”

“Okay, okay,” Y/N smiled, internally dying at the thought of an evening around strangers, even ones in masks. “I’m in.”

Maybe it would do her some good. Since the end of her relationship, she’d been unable to summon enthusiasm for anything, and she had to admit, shopping for a dress and giggling over imagined possible events at the ball with her friends was more fun than she had had in a while. She hadn’t realized just how stale her life had become, even before Andrew broke up with her.

The downside to the evening presented itself with the understanding that she would very much be the proverbial fifth wheel. Dee and Jenny both had dates for the night in the form of their long term partners, David and Leanne, respectively. Still, they assured her that they wouldn’t ignore her in favor of their company - Leanne had even offered up a blind date, but Y/N quickly turned her down, politely, because although she didn’t want to seem ungrateful, she didn’t think it would make her evening any more enjoyable. It would probably have had the opposite effect.

New Year’s Eve rolled around faster than she wanted it to, despite her excitement for the party. She started preparing ridiculously early, and by the time her cab arrived to take her to Dee’s, she was trembling with nerves. Her friends didn’t make it any better when she got there, chatting excitedly, making her feel like she’d be wallpaper the entire night. Still, she smiled and nodded along, following quietly when the car arrived to take them to the hotel downtown.

The Masquerade Ball was held in the same place every year. It wasn’t exclusive, but it was limited, another reason Y/N had been reluctant to turn down the ticket. They arrived in plenty of time to join the queue, and the chilly evening had her wishing she’d brought more than her light jacket. She shuddered in silence, keeping up with Dee as they shuffled closer to their destination, feeling more and more underdressed in her simple unembellished evening gown as she took in the stunning dresses and tuxedos everyone else was wearing. Of course, she couldn’t see anyone's faces, which made it marginally better, but she still felt underwhelming in comparison.

They made it inside within thirty minutes, accepting direction to their table in the grand ballroom several floors up. It was busy, and loud, and the dancefloor was already bustling with bodies grinding together to the late nineties pop tune that was currently playing. The ticket had stated a mixture of classical and popular music, with opportunities for “proper” dancing. Around the room there were several booths, the capitalist side of the event, and as the group seated themselves at the table, Jenny grabbed Y/N’s hand and pointed toward one booth at the back of the room.

“Look, they’re doing the Dance Card stall this year!”

Y/N scrunched up her face. “What’s that?”

“It’s like a game, people can sign up and get matched with a dance partner for a song. You can do it as many times as you like.”

“So it’s like Speed Dating?” Leanne asked, pulling a similar face to Y/N.

“I don’t think so,” Y/N giggled, shaking her head at the thought of getting up close and personal with a stranger. “I just wanna enjoy the party.”

Dee leaned into her, smiling. “I’ll dance with you, baby girl, don’t worry.”

The ballroom was filling quickly, and for the first part of the evening, Y/N stayed with the group, chatting over the music and drinking. Occasionally, Leanne would drag Jenny off to dance, or Dee would make David, but they never left her alone, something she was grateful for. She shared a dance with Dee, but quickly found the crowd overwhelming, so she remained at the table while the others took turns in dancing.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna try the dance card thing?” Jenny asked, leaning in as Dee pulled her boyfriend from the table. “Just once?”

Y/N looked over at the booth again, ready to deny it, then her gaze caught on one figure that seemed to stand out from the crowd. He was standing off to the side of the booth, leaning against the wall, a full glass in one hand with the other in his pocket, and she was certain he was looking right back at her. There was something familiar about him, not that there was anything extraordinary that would have made him stand out in the first place. The tuxedo he wore was the same as a dozen others she’d seen, and he was wearing the standard mask they were handing out on the door for those who forgot or didn’t have one.

“Oh my god, you’re thinking about it,” Jenny giggled, touching her forearm and bringing her attention back to the table. When she looked over at the booth again, the man was gone, and disappointment settled into her stomach.

“I’m not,” she assured her friend. “I thought - nevermind.”

Her mind was already wandering as Leanne distracted her girlfriend from badgering her. It couldn’t have been him, even if her gut was telling her it was. He wouldn’t be in the city, let alone at the same party she was at, it was impossible. The one that got away had gone away permanently, a long time before Andrew was even a blip on her radar, and it was just wistful thinking making some random stranger look like him.

Dee returned, breathless from her dance, though David didn’t return with her. “He’s getting more drinks,” she explained as Jenny asked where he went. The two other women took their turn to go and dance, and Y/N drew back into herself a little, realizing they were spending their time keeping her company when they should have been enjoying themselves.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly, looking at Dee, who blinked in confusion.

“For what?”

“You’re -” Y/N gestured wildly. “Looking after me, like usual. I’m a buzzkill.”

Her friend laughed. “Honey, do I look like my buzz has been killed? I can’t dance to every single song anyways, I’m not seventeen anymore.”

“You’re sure?”

Sighing, Dee leaned in, covering Y/N’s hand with her own. “You need this,” she insisted. “Since Douchebag McDouche left you - yahoo, by the way - you’ve been in a slump. And I hate seeing you miserable.”

“I know,” Y/N mumbled, sagging in her seat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so… boring.”

“You’re not boring,” Dee replied, squeezing your hand. “You just need to rediscover yourself a little.” She picked up her almost empty drink, draining the last of it. “You could always try the dance card thing. Maybe you’ll find someone to kiss at midnight. Even if it’s just for midnight.”

The idea was less than appealing but Y/N looked in that direction anyway, just in case the mystery man was there again. When he wasn’t, and she sighed, Dee frowned.

“Not up for it?”

“It’s not that,” Y/N murmured, wary of their companions returning. “Do you remember after college, there was that guy -”

“I got fresh drinks for everyone!” David announced, arriving back at the table with a tray in his hands. Instantly, Y/N fell silent, and Dee quickly realized she wouldn’t be getting anything more out of her. “Another rum, Y/N?” David asked, handing her a drink regardless of her answer.

She got to her feet with a forced smile. “Actually, I’m going to find the ladies room,” she informed both of them, stepping away and waving off Dee’s almost immediate offer to join her. The crowd wasn’t as dense as it looked, and she easily found her way to the lobby, following the posted signs for the restrooms. There was a queue that she quickly joined, pulling her phone from her purse, scrolling through her Twitter feed to pass the time.

Someone across the lobby yelled, which made everyone look that way to see a gentleman being forcefully exited by security. Y/N watched along with them, and as the scene died down, she went to turn her attention back to her phone, only to see him again. This time he was at the other side of the lobby, standing with a group of people, and when he caught her eye, he smiled, raising his drink a little in her direction. She froze in surprise, staring back, and it took the woman behind her in the queue jostling her to get her to look away.

He was gone again when she glanced back, but the queue was moving too quickly for her to do anything. Her heart was in her throat as she rushed to be done in the restroom, scanning the crowd the second that she was out in the lobby again, finding the group he was with gone and him with them. It was stupid how disappointed she was, when she wasn’t even sure if it was who she thought it was or even if it was the same person.

For all she knew, she was going crazy.

“Idiot,” she muttered to herself, heading back into the ballroom to find the table again. None of her friends were there, all busy on the dancefloor, and her stomach dropped, anxiety rushing in at her. “What am I doing?” she whispered, certain she was going to cry.

“You look a little lost,” said a man from behind her, in a voice she recognized even after all this time.

“Yes, well,” she replied, keeping her gaze on the dancefloor in case she was imagining him. “These things are more for couples, aren’t they?”

He laughed, and her insides churned with a need to see his face, to make sure it was really him, because she felt like it was a dream. She still remembered the last time she’d seen him, just the back of his head as he left, taking her whole heart with him even if he didn’t know it. “I suppose so,” he agreed, and a hand brushed the small of her back, making her inhale sharply. “Would you like to dance?”

Why was he here? How? What was happening?

She nodded, holding her questions in as he took her hand to lead her to the dancefloor, just as a slower classical number came on. Finally, she turned her head, disappointed that the mask covered his face, but recognizing his features underneath. Her heart soared, nerves gathering as butterflies in her stomach, and she couldn’t help but smile through her mask at him. He smiled back, pulling her closer as they reached a spot with enough room not to feel cramped.

Neither of them spoke. Her desire to know where he had been, why he was there, was held at bay by the simple comfort of just being in his arms. He was still fond of the same aftershave by the scent clinging to his clothes, and his hair was slightly different, but otherwise he was exactly as she remembered, and she couldn’t help leaning in to rest her cheek against his shoulder as they moved slowly to the music. Across the dancefloor, she met Dee’s confused gaze from where she was dancing with David, recognizable by her hair, and Y/N smiled at her so she knew everything was okay.

“You look just as beautiful as the last time I saw you,” he murmured, making her lift her head to look at him. “Can’t believe it’s been so long.”

“How can you tell that I look the same?” she asked playfully. “I’m wearing a mask.”

He chuckled. “I just know,” he shrugged, smirking at her.

“You’re still just as big,” she said shyly. “Your hair is different.” The music picked up speed a little, transitioning to a faster beat, and Y/N frowned as couples around them started to get a little showy with their movements. “I don’t think I like this song,” she joked.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter,” he agreed, stepping back and taking her hand again.

As they moved through the crowd, they passed Dee, who stared at the man with her in shock, recognizing him, and mouthing a “is that who I think it is” while pointing at him. Y/N nodded, not stopping to explain as he led her into the lobby and towards a fire exit. “Wait,” she hissed, “where are we going? It’s gonna be midnight soon.”

He glanced back with a grin. “Don’t worry,” he assured her. “No one’s up there.”

The there he was referring to escaped her, but she had always trusted him, and she had no reason not to now. With a nod, she followed him through the fire exit, into the stairwell and away from the noise. He started to climb the steps, looking back to make sure she was with him, and on the next floor, they entered a larger, empty room that was only lit by a few lamps.

“What is this place?” she asked.

“A lounge,” he replied. “There’s a balcony we can watch the fireworks from.”

“Won’t someone catch us?”

His eyes sparkled behind the mask. “Only if we’re not quiet.”

The balcony was separated from the room by large doors that weren’t locked. Y/N followed him out into the night, feeling her breath get snatched away by the view of the city. There was a balcony on the ballroom floor too, and she could hear the music below and the chattering of people on the balcony. She pulled away from him to approach the stone ledge, unsure she’d ever seen anywhere look so pretty.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

He was behind her, one hand on her hip as he pressed into her, burying his nose in her hair. “Isn’t it?” he mumbled, though she wasn’t sure they were talking about the same thing.

“You’re really here,” she turned to look up at him, “after all these years, you came back.”

“It would have been sooner. But… things happened. And when I came back to see you, you always seemed happy with someone. I didn’t want to take that away from you.”

Guilt made her insides churn because she hadn’t been, not really. Enough to fool herself, enough to hurt herself, maybe, but she’d always known what had slipped through her fingers. “And now? How did you know I’d be here?”

His cheeks darkened. “Dee posted a picture of you guys getting ready,” he explained, a little sheepishly. “I pulled some strings. This is not actually my tux.”

“You know,” she whispered, “I had a pretty crappy year.”

“Me too.”

Lifting a hand, she pressed it to his cheek. He leaned into it, covering her hand with his own. “I never thought I’d see you again. This feels like a dream.”

“It’s not,” he replied softly. “Lemme prove it.”

She wasn’t quite expecting him to kiss her but after the split second of shock, she melted into it, wrapping her arms around his neck as his tongue slipped between her lips. The action made her moan, and he groaned in reply, clutching at her like she might disappear. When they broke apart, she felt almost high, unable to stop herself from smiling.

“We never had a chance to do that before,” she gasped breathlessly. His fingers were digging into her hips, pulling her body flush with his, and she could feel his erection through the fabric of his pants. Her body reacted with a rush of warmth between her thighs, and before she could stop herself, a lustful whine tore itself from her lips.

His gaze grew hungrier. “There’s a lot of things we never had a chance to do,” he practically growled, voice so low that she shuddered in his hold.

“There’s no one here,” she said abruptly, surprised at her own words.

Her dress was already bunching in his hands as he tugged it up. “Tell me to stop,” he grunted as he pulled the fabric higher, pressing his mouth to hers in a desperate, quick kiss. “Tell me to stop and I can wait, I promise -”

She stopped him with a deeper kiss, rubbing her hand against the bulge in his pants. “I can’t,” she whimpered.

He turned her, pulling her back against him. “You’re so beautiful,” he hummed, pulling her dress up again until it was bunched over her ass, pinning it there with his body. Sliding a hand underneath the fabric still covering her front, he rubbed his fingertips over her mound, pressing his lips to her throat. “Are you wet?”

Her answer wouldn’t come out as she struggled to process what was happening. He chuckled, working his fingers underneath the waistband of her panties, finding the answer himself when he stroked her slit. She moaned, throwing her head back against his shoulder, rubbing herself into his erection.

Two thick fingers spread her open, sinking into her with ease, and she yelped, lurching forward. The roar of the party below became clearer as she caught herself on the balcony edge. “Someone could hear,” she panted, unable to stop her hips from rocking into the same rhythm as his fingers. “They’re right below us -”

“Guess you’ll have to try and be quiet,” he replied with a low chuckle. “The fireworks will be starting soon.”

She nodded, gasping as the heel of his palm ground into her clit, thick fingers still thrusting inside her. His lips brushed the shell of her ear, and a breathy groan made her shudder and push back against him. The consistent stimulation was making her head swim; her eyes fluttered shut and her hands tightened on the stone balcony.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked. She whimpered, nodding when she couldn’t make herself speak, and he laughed again, working his fingers a little harder until the tremble that had started in her knees seized her whole body. Her cunt clenched around the intrusion, the sound of her wetness reaching her over the party noises below them, and finally, she cried out once, covering her own mouth as she shuddered around him.

His hand withdrew, leaving her bereft. She gulped down air in her brief reprieve, then inhaled sharply as his hot and heavy cock landed against her exposed bottom. He didn’t wait, thumbing the tip down until it slotted between her thighs, rubbing right against her sensitive labia. The hunger for more returned, and she tilted her hips, allowing his thick head to find its target, and she arched as each inch filled her until she could feel the soft fabric of his pants pressed against her ass. Only when he was fully sheathed did he stop, dropping his lips to the bare curve of her shoulder with a tiny, contented sigh.

“Only ever dreamed of this,” he whispered, grinding deep inside her. “Feeling you wrapped around me -” He sighed again, the same happy little noise. “Fuck -”

She whimpered his name when he pulled back to sink home again with his hands grasping her hips tightly. His height forced her to lift slightly, but he quickly bent his knees, enabling him to drive into her a little harder, forcing a squeak from her lips when he bottomed out again.

“Listen,” he grunted, leaning in close, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. Below them, the crowd was chanting, and it sounded like the whole city was too. Her lover started to count with them, slamming into her hard enough to punch the air from her lungs with every number. “Seven, six, five -”

Her pussy clenched around him, and as the countdown drew to an end, she cried out, letting the sound be drowned out by the sudden burst of fireworks that lit up the night sky. She pushed back into him as she came, and his pace quickened, his own climax filling her hot and thick as the party music struck up again from the floor below.

A pleasurable buzz left her dizzy and she clutched the balcony, letting her blurry gaze linger on the city underneath. The sensation of his withdrawal made her hum happily, and when he pulled her to her feet, she stumbled right into his arms and his kiss. His lips left her dizzier than before, and she gave him a dopey smile as he chuckled and cupped her cheek.

“Happy New Year.”

She leaned into his touch. “Happy New Year.”

“Your friends will be wondering where you are,” he murmured.

“Let them wonder,” she replied, almost drunk on him, clinging to the front of his tuxedo. “What now?”

He inhaled deeply, wrapping his arms around her. “Well, I was hoping to take you home,” he said quietly, lips twitching with a smile.

“And tomorrow?” she asked, daring to hope.

His smile became a grin. “I waited so long for this, you think I’m gonna give it up now?”

Her heart pounded as she smiled back up at him. “I was really hoping you’d say that.”

Psst, if you wanna tell me who you were imagining, send an ask or reblog 😘

[weekly-und3rvers3]

Week 6 - Christmas Special

creator: me :)

word count: 705

Notes: TW/CW: Seasonal depression, Implied/referenced su!cidal thoughts/su!cide attempt (nothing actually happens, it’s referenced) Damn sorry y’all, can’t even let them have a happy Christmas

A cold, dark December night. 

It seemed to take a toll on Cross, as he sat on the window sill, looking out at the falling snow. He couldn’t see anything outside, the darkness only reflected his morose expression and the flickering fireplace.

He was tired. The sun and moon were a newer addition to the universe their castle currently resided in. But this also meant that seasons, night and day cycles were present to the boys. And with nights starting sooner and lasting longer, Cross felt his internal clock getting tricked into wanting to just… rest. Always. He was always tired.

He was cold. The blanket giving him nothing to protect him from the freezing temperatures the castle reached in the winter seasons.

He was… unhappy. He couldn’t explain why. But recently, it’s just been so tough. Loss of motivation. Loss of confidence. Loss of appetite. Loss of energy. Loss of… everything, made it hard to be in high spirits.

It was always cold. Always dark. Always dull. Always bleak. Always 

“Merry Gyftmas, Cranberry!”

Cross jolted awake as he was about to doze off, leaning against the window, wrapped in his blanket. He was interrupted by the sound of Killer's voice appearing right next to him. How he missed the other’s reflection in the window was a mystery, but that was just Killer.

”Huh?” Cross furrowed his brow, turning his body fully to face Killer. He looked at the other, their arms outstretched with a chaotically wrapped box in their hands.

“A present for you, Cranberry!”

“Cranberry?” Cross questioned, looking to Killer. “That’s a new one.”

“Well Cran is like a mix of both Cross and Sans, and Cranberry fit the festive season so I thought it would fit!” Killer smiled, proud of themselves.

Cross merely nodded, just another silly nickname to add to the collection. Instead, he turned to the gift in the other's hands. “So…. What is this?”

“Gyftmas!”

“What is… Gyftmas?”

“Well…” Killer thought about it for a moment, dropping the present to their waist for a moment. “I don’t actually remember.”

“But it’s something we used to do in our AU! I just know we decorate a tree and give people presents!” Killer smiled, picking the gift back up and presenting it to Cross.

“Oh… but…” Cross stared, awkwardly, at the present before taking it hesitantly. “I didn’t get you anything.”

“Well what about all the deleted texts you never sent reaching out because you felt like a burden?” 

“Huh?” Cross turned to look past Killer, towards Dust’s voice talking to him, but he flinched as he caught a gift, flying his way.

He looked down, a box of chocolates wrapped with a nice ribbon. A Dust classic for him.

“Or all those times we’ve had late night talks where you’ve told me how you want to end it?” Cross let out a grunt as Killer shoved their present into his chest. 

“Or all the meals you purposely skip out on, for any number of food, abondamment, insecurity reasons.” Cross turned to Horror, offering him a gift bag.

“Remember that time you lied to us and were going to jump off that bridge in an AU far away from where any of us could reach you.”

He felt his breath get caught in his throat, shutting his eyes pitifully, as he didn’t even bother to look at what Nightmare had outstretched to him.

“Your very existence is a gift Cross.” Dusts spoke, taking his scarf off, and wrapping it around Cross.

“It’s cheesy and cliche, but you don’t have to get us anything, other than the promise you’ll stay.” Killer held their glowing soul, twitching between their shapes, out to him.

“I don’t even know if I can promise that.” Cross choked out, feeling the warmth from Dusts scarf, seeing the light from Killer’s soul. 

”Promise you’ll try.” Horror put a hand on Cross’s.

“Try however much you safely can. Give however much you can safely give. Be kind, be respectful, be patient with yourself. As much as you can.” Cross could feel Nightmare use his magic, seeping into his own body and soul.

“…I promise.” Cross cried, wiping at his eyes.

“Merry Gyftmas, Cross.”

“Merry Gyftmas… I hate you guys.”

[lightandheatao3]

The Bunker - Criminal Minds

Chapter 4: The Question

Summary: Spencer Reid wakes up in a locked bunker to find half the current BAU and two of its departed members unconscious on the floor. The old team is back together but the reunion is not what any of them would have wished for. An Unsub from their past has decided it's time they all stop keeping secrets, even if it means exposing them by force.

Hotch and Derek have been pulled back into a world they tried to escape. Emily, Rossi, and JJ are doing their best to keep it together. Spencer is falling apart.

AKA a found family is reunited and forced to go through the most nightmarish version of family therapy imaginable.

Set months after the end of Criminal Minds: Evolution. Evolution referenced, but not necessary to understand the story.

Chapter Summary: Tensions rise as time in the bunker drags on.

Read chapter 4 on AO3 or under the cut. All comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

“Come on man, get up.”

“What’s the point?” whined Spencer.

“The point is that muscles start to atrophy after 3 days of inactivity, and you have been holed up on that disgusting mattress for… what… like a week and half now? Longer than you should’ve been,” said Derek.

Spencer groaned. “I’ve been a bit sick, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Which is why we’ve left you alone, but you’re so goddamn shaky and thin you’re starting to resemble a chihuahua. You need to keep active, or you will just get sicker. That’s true for all of us,” he insisted.

“Come on, it’s simple calisthenics. No worse than you had to do at the academy,” said Emily, entirely too chipper.

“I hated doing it back then, too,” he said. “I would really rather never move again, thanks.”

“Of course you want to sleep all day,” said Derek. “It’s called clinical depression, Reid. It’s what happens when you replace your brain’s ability to self-regulate pleasure with heroin. You’re gonna be all fucked up for a while, but you’ll level out eventually. And you know what’s proven to be one of the most effective treatments for depression? Exercise! So get your ass up,” he ordered, nudging the mattress with his foot.

“Okay, okay, I get it. Just don’t complain when I pass out after 5 minutes,” he said, dragging himself up.

The last thing he wanted was to be roped into an extended conversation about the questionable state of his mental health.

“I’ll consider it 5 minutes well spent,” Derek said, reaching a hand down to help him to his feet.

Emily corralled them all into two lines while JJ placed herself at the front of the room, ready to lead the workout.

“Frankly, I’m with you, kid,” Rossi whispered, looking pointedly unhappy about the whole situation.

“Shut it,” said Emily.

Hotch smirked. “Pick your battles, boys.”

“Just you wait until it’s my turn to run the class tomorrow,” said Derek, positioned feet shoulder width apart and ready to go in the front line with Emily. “You’ll be begging to go back to this moment”

Rossi and Spencer both whinged, but they shaped up and did their best to mirror JJ’s movements when she called them to attention.

Spencer did not pass out, but he did make it almost precisely 5 minutes before having to very rapidly excuse himself to go throw up. After a few retches, he collapsed back onto the floor of the tiny en-suit, half curled around the toilet.

Rossi ducked his head in. “You doing alight? Need some help?”

“Just… just let me lie here for a minute.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay with you?” he persisted.

“Get back in here, Rossi!” ordered Emily.

With a swear that was barely concealed under his breath, he left Spencer to languish on the floor.

A few minutes later he hauled himself out and retook his place in the group. Nobody said anything, but Derek had an annoyingly self satisfied smile. He only made it through another few exercises before he had to stop in earnest, but, as loathed as he was to admit it, he felt a tiny bit better. Emotionally, if not physically.

Emily, JJ and Derek all sat by him. Rossi had first dibs on the bathroom to wash his clothes and Hotch… well, he was sitting cross legged on the far side of the room meditating.

Spencer didn’t know if he was actually meditating, or if he just wanted to be left alone.

He’d warmed up to them all since they had been in the bunker. In fact he was almost warmer and friendlier than he had been when they were all still close. Or, maybe not friendlier, but gentle somehow, in a way Spencer had never seen him be with anyone but Jack and Beth before.

Still, he kept a distance from them. Even when they were talking, he could feel the invisible wall.

Not that Spencer was judging. He had plenty of his own walls.

“I know you feel like garbage, Spence, but you’re doing a lot better,” said JJ, looking pleased.

“Better than what?” he scoffed.

“Better than when you were pumping your veins full of dope every day,” suggested Derek, lying on the floor in front of where Spencer and the girls were siting, clasping his hands behind his head casually and putting his feet up against the wall.

Spencer narrowed his eyes, a flash of irritation at the lackadaisical attitude. “That’s an interesting philosophical debate. Do you really think I’d be worse off high in my apartment than soberly held captive by an Unsub?”

Derek tapped his foot thoughtfully. “I think, and correct me if I’m wrong here boy genius, those are not the only two options in the world.”

“Please, Morgan, if we make it out of here alive will you teach me how to be as virtuous as you?” he said sarcastically.

“Enough, both of you,” said Emily when Derek leaned his head up to argue back. “Spencer, stop scratching, you’re going to get an infection.”

He looked at her quizzically for a split second before realizing what she meant. He had been scratching at his arms without even noticing. He stopped, slinging them both over his knees instead.

The most recent track marks were scabbed over and the extra sensory sensitivity after withdrawal was making them itch like crazy.

It’s funny how quickly he’d gotten used to them seeing him like this. He was still in his singlet and pajama pants most of the time, the long sleeve shirt functioning more as a pillow than an item of clothing these days.

The others were the same, with everyone comfortably sitting around in their underwear when waiting for their clothes to dry. They’d all spent enough time in hotel rooms together over the years not to be precious about that sort of thing.

None of them even balked at the track marks anymore. They’d gotten used to them. He didn’t know how he felt about that.

He’d always hated having to hide and having them be so delicate about the subject of his addiction, but now they were infuriatingly direct. Far from walking on eggshells, they were stomping as brashly as they pleased. Especially Derek.

It was really starting to piss him off.

That might have been because literally everything was pissing him off since detoxing.

He tried not to feel too bad about it. He wasn’t the only one who’d been a bit snippy. The complete absence of privacy and personal space wasn’t doing any of them any favors.

“Can I ask you something?” asked JJ, catching his eye.

He sighed. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Probably not,” she admitted.

A beat. “You can ask.”

She looked him up and down. Emily was glancing between them, and Derek had cracked an eye open.

“What happened two years ago?” she asked gently. “Why did you start using again?”

He was surprised it took them this long. He’d been waiting for them to interrogate him on the subject since the second that goddamn note was read out.

This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. It wasn’t one he knew how to have.

“Nothing happened,” he said softly.

“I don’t believe that.”

“Addicts relapse, JJ. An estimated 88% of all heroin addicts relapse within 1 to 3 years of quitting. I know you all think I’m different somehow, like I’m supposed to be smarter than that. That’s not how it works.”

He didn’t mean to sound harsh, but even he could hear the bite in his voice by the end. There was a little part of him that resented them for even being surprised at his relapse, as if there was something about him that precluded him from that kind of indignity. It was misdirected and he knew it.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” said JJ defensively. “If you don’t want to talk about it just say so.”

Before he could apologize to her, Derek chimed in with, “It’s what I’m saying.” He sat up. “You’re right, Reid, you are supposed to be smarter than this.”

“Thanks, Morgan. Invite me to the ceremony when they give you a Nobel prize for fixing the opioid epidemic.”

Derek folded his arms and continued as if Spencer hadn’t said anything. “You didn’t choose to be an addict, but you did choose to do it alone. If you hadn’t cut yourself off from all of us when you relapsed, we would have helped you. You chose to keep pretending everything was fine while it spiraled out of control. Every time we talked, every time you visited, I asked you what was happening in your life, and you chose to lie. For someone so goddamn smart, you've been making a lot of incredibly stupid choices.”

Hotch had opened his eyes and Rossi had re-emerged from the bathroom still holding a soapy, wet shirt in his hands.

Spencer and Derek had both stood up and Spencer wasn’t even sure when they’d done it.

Emily didn’t intervene this time. Apparently, they were doing this.

“You’re right, I didn’t ask for your help and I don’t want it now!” He took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. Through gritted teeth he said, “I am grateful to you all for getting me through withdrawal and I am sorry I put you through that. Can’t that be enough for now? We clearly have bigger problems than this.”

“No.”

“No?” he said indignantly.

“No. Why won't you talk about this? What could you possibly have to say that’s worse than what we already know?” Derek demanded, volume rising with every word.

“I don't want to talk about it because I know what you want me to say! You want me to tell you that if we get out of here I’m going to get treatment and go to meetings and pinkie promise I’ll never use narcotics again,” Spencer said, matching his volume and emphasizing the words with a wave of his hand.

“The only thing I want is for you to tell me the fucking truth!”

“No, you don’t!”

“Yes, I do! I don’t care how bleak it is, just for one fucking second be honest about what you want!”

“The truth is I don’t want to do this!” shouted Spencer. “If I had heroin, I would shoot up right now, right here in this fucking room while you watched. Are you happy? Is that what you wanted to hear? I don’t want to be fixed!”

“Why not?” yelled Derek.

They stared at each other, both breathing heavily. Spencer had been staring directly into his eyes for far longer than he would normally be able, fueled by adrenaline.

He caught glimpse of something behind the anger that in another circumstance he might have missed.

Helplessness.

Oh.

Derek wasn’t mad.

He was terrified.

The realization hit him like a physical blow.

Spencer stared at him, opening his mouth but not finding any words.

“Why don’t you want us to help? Why don’t you want to be fixed? What the hell happened to you?” pleaded the closest thing he’d ever had to a brother. “What’s your plan when we get out of here? You wanna go be a junkie, dead in a year? You had 15 years clean, man. Why are you doing this?”

His eyes burned, moisture pooling in the corners. Why? Why was he doing this?

What answer could ever satisfy them?

The air between them filled with poisonous silence.

Out of the silence came a voice, too small for him to make out the words. Derek held his gaze, fighting tears of his own, but asked to someone to the side, “What did you say?”

“It wasn’t 15 years,” said JJ, louder this time.

Another shiver of panic worked its way down Spencer’s spine.

“What are you talking about?” demanded Derek.

“He said ‘times.’ When we first got the note. He said we weren’t there the other times he went through withdrawal. Plural.”

Fuck. Why could he never just say the right thing?

Derek squared off, lifting a hand to wipe under his eyes. “JJ’s right, isn’t she.” He wasn’t shouting anymore. When Spencer didn't answer, he took it as all the confirmation he needed. “Was it after prison?”

He shot a brief look off at the others, silently urging them to step in and save him.

JJ wouldn’t look at him. She looked small. He never wanted to do this to her.

Hotch was eyeing him like he was trying to solve the puzzle of what bits of Spencer Reid had been irreparably broken in his absence. Prison had certainly done some damage that couldn’t be undone.

He looked back at Derek. “No. That was… It was hard, but no.”

“So, when?” he asked, cocking his head, waiting for Spencer to give him something concrete to fight about.

He looked back at JJ, who still wouldn’t meet his eye.

She already knew.

“Oh no,” said Emily softly, putting it together. “It was after I faked my death to hide from Doyle.”

He was torn between Derek and JJ, and all the other people in this room who his deficiencies kept hurting.

Their fight after it was revealed that JJ knew Emily was alive had almost destroyed their friendship. In retrospect, he understood she was doing the best she could with horrible circumstances, trying to protect Emily.

He also knew, equally certain, that he would have told her. If the situations were reversed and she came to his door, crying, grieving, on the verge of a breakdown, he would have told her.

She knew it, too.

He was aware that she still held tightly onto that guilt. He regretted so badly the way he’d treated her when he first found out. He never wanted to tell her this. Never.

He turned away from Derek, who was still staring at him like he’d ripped his heart out of his chest.

“JJ, please talk to me.”

He stepped forward, putting his hands on her arms. She looked up at him, red eyed and exhausted.

“You told me you didn’t use. You only thought about it,” she said, sounding numb. “I believed you. Except… I think I just wanted to believe you.”

“I’m sorry.” He pulled her into a hug. She held onto him tightly. “You did the right thing back then. My actions weren’t your fault.”

The moment was over as quickly and horribly as it began when the chamber on the door banged.

Of course this interruption couldn't have come minutes earlier when he desperately needed it.

A gloved hand reached in to deposit a brown paper bag.

Derek was slow to react, not running to the door in his usual effort to ingratiate himself to their captor through one sided conversation.

When nobody moved, the interrupted outbreak of truth and consequences weighing them down too heavily, Hotch stepped towards the door.

He moved slowly, deliberately, as if one muscle twitching out of place would set off a bomb. Spencer wasn’t sure where he thought the explosion might be coming from.

When Hotch opened the chamber and extracted the brown paper bag, he stared at it. Not moving, just staring down at the thing he was holding, presumably filled with more fruit. Nobody else moved. Nobody spoke.

In one swift and vicious action, Hotch flung the bag across the room!

Fruit scattered over the concrete in a colorful arc. An overripe peach splattered on the far wall.

They all flinched at the sudden act, but before anyone could talk, Hotch had rounded on the camera in the roof with its infuriating, endlessly blinking red light.

He spoke low, dangerous. “When we get out of here, and we will, I’m going to kill you myself. Forget life in prison, I will put you down like a fucking dog.”

Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, not realizing he’d been holding it. JJ was gripping his arm tight enough to cut off circulation. He let her. The room was cavernous, quiet, oppressive.

Hotch clenched and unclenched his fists. Emily stepped forward, mouth open, a hand outstretched towards his shoulder but not bold enough to actually touch him, yet he pulled away from her as if she had.

“I’m fine,” he snapped. He took in a ragged breath, scrubbing his hands over his face, then lowered them. This time, calmer: “I’m fine.”

He looked around the room at the scattered fruit. With another deep breath, he bent down and started gathering it up. Emily stepped forward to help him.

Spencer, JJ, and Derek exchanged looks. Spencer knew they would not be dropping the subject forever, but for now they settled on an agitated, embarrassed truce. Well, Spencer was embarrassed. Derek might just have been agitated.

Had he really said, out loud, that he would shoot up in front of them if he had to? He was almost certain he would actually follow through with that given the choice. There's almost nothing he wouldn't do to get high at this point. Withdrawal and being stuck in the bunker had only made his cravings stronger.

He had certainly not intended to tell them that, though.

The three of them broke away, moving to help Hotch and Emily. JJ grabbed the paper bag for them to consolidate the food, while Derek moved to clean the peach that was dripping down the wall.

As Hotch dropped his handful of citrus and apples into the bag JJ was holding, he paused. The rest of the room paused too, waiting to see what he would do.

“It was my call to keep everyone in the dark about Prentiss. It was cruel to put that on you.” He looked around at the rest of them. “It was cruel to all of you.”

“You did what you thought was right,” said Spencer. He locked eyes with JJ. “Both of you did.”

Hotch eyed him off, picking him apart in a way that made Spencer want to bury his face in his hands like a little kid, desperate not to be seen. He resisted the urge.

“You still don’t believe it was the right call,” said Hotch eventually, a statement not a question.

Spencer frowned. “No,” he said honestly. “But I know you believed it. That’s enough for me.”

Hotch shook his head. Clearly, it wasn’t enough for him.

Emily looked between all of them, grey hair falling oddly prettily over her shoulders as she swiveled her head. “I mean, if we want to play the blame game, it’s really my fault for keeping you all in the dark about Doyle,” she pointed out. “Or Doyle’s fault for creating the whole mess. We can go even deeper. In a round about way, it’s really my mother’s fault I got into intelligence in the first place. We can all blame my mother! Trust me, it’s one of my favorite pastimes. It’s cathartic. Go ahead,” she encouraged.

Derek laughed. Even JJ cracked a smile.

“I really dislike your mother, so this is compelling,” deadpanned Hotch.

Emily chuckled. “Yeah, she hates you too buddy.” To the room at large she said, “I know we’re all going a bit crazy in here, but everything we’re feeling has to be secondary to the ultimate goal of getting out. I’ve been thinking about that, and-”

“Emily,” said Rossi, wet, half-washed shirt sitting discarded on the floor, forming a puddle.

Spencer hadn't even registered that he hadn't spoken or helped with the cleanup, caught up in the interpersonal drama as he was.

Emily looked at Rossi quizzically.

Spencer’s blood ran cold. It was crumpled from having been tossed across the room with the rest of the bag’s contents.

Rossi held a folded piece of paper in his hand. With it, a photograph, the edge of which was just sticking out between the folds. He offered it to Emily. “Sorry,” he said sympathetically. “Looks like you’re up.”

[peoplefromheaven]

Purging the home

If you’re like me, and you’re bad at throwing stuff out, here are some tips to help. It’s still not going to be easy and you will probably still feel guilty about certain items, but that’s normal.

1: when did you last use it? Was it 6 months ago? A year ago? Did you even know you still had it? If that’s the case, toss. This goes for unused clothing hangers, toys kids don’t use, those really beautiful bowls you just couldn’t leave behind and then never used, etc.

2: How often do I use those things? For me, this mainly goes for clothes. Pants I’ve worn once, don’t really have an outfit for in mind, donate and make someone else happy with it. This also goes for makeup, skincare, haircare…

3: what’s the condition of the item? If it’s an easy fix and I still want the item (e.g. ripped seam in a stuffie)? In a box, have I not fixed it within a week, toss. Fixes that will take more time and money than getting a new one? Toss. Kitchen accessories that look like they’ve been in war? Toss. You deserve beautiful things.

4: expensive items. This one is one of the hardest, but keeping expensive items for the sole reason of them having been expensive, is only going to create more clutter. Do you still use it? Do you still love it? If not, toss. You’ve already lost the money, clinging on to the item is not going to bring that back.

5: why are you holding on to that item? Is it guilt? Cost? Emotional value? All of those can have different outcomes. Cost we’ve already talked about. If you’re feeling guilt, why? Because it was a gift maybe, but keeping something you don’t need or use in your household is only going to make you unhappy. The person that gifted you said item should understand that maybe, this one thing just wasn’t for you.

6: emotional value: this one I struggle with the most. I love everything people ever do for me. I do cling on to thought out Christmas and birthday cards. However, I now have a map where I keep them, all nice and tidy, all in one place. And we don’t cling on to every single card. If your grandma did knitting or anything like that, check first if you can’t incorporate it into anything, maybe just frame it, that’s already less clutter in closets and drawers. Lastly, if there’s no use for an item, hard as it can be, think about donating. Grandmas plates and cups are beautiful, but you don’t use them ever, because you have other ones, donate them and make another person happy.

Don’t get stuck. If you come across items where you cannot make a decision, put them into another separate pile or box and keep going. Your maybe box can be sorted through later. Lets say 2 weeks. Do you still know what’s in it? If not, toss. Have you figured out ways you can use it? Yes? Keep. No? Toss. Also, let’s say you find half of a pair of earrings, throw it in there. Find the second half? We have earrings! Still only one after 2 weeks? Time to toss.

Pay attention to why a space gets cluttered. Do you simply have too much stuff? Or do you not have efficient places to keep said stuff? Those are 2 very different problems. In my home, it’s board games, we do use all of them, but I didn’t have the space for them. That’s when you can invest in extra organisation storage. But always remember, declutterring first, tidying second.

Do a no buy week/month/year: your decluttering isnt going to get anywhere if you keep bringing stuff into your home. Calm down. Breathe. Get decluttering, and then you can fully see what you need to replace or buy new.

Don’t make it a one time thing, after your big declutter is done, go over stuff once a month. That drawer full of stuff that’s starting to get really full? Check it. Pile of paperwork on the kitchen table? Check, organise what’s needed, toss what’s not needed. When you keep on top of it, you never have to do a full house declutter again.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for potentially having been the reason why the relationship of two of my friends ended?

okay so i know this sounds bad, but i don’t think it’s my fault (at least not entirely).

so this happened 3 years ago almost. at the time, two of my best friends were dating each other. we were all part of a bigger friend group of like 6 people.

I’ll call those two friends who dated sam and jane. (fake names obviously)

The whole friend group was relatively new and only like half a year old when they started dating. i had only known sam for the time that friend group existed, so not very long by then. jane on the other hand, had been one of my best friends since we were both in kindergarten.

jane and i were around 16 then and sam was 15.

i had had a crush on jane for years at this point, but never told her because i always either thought she was straight (so she wouldn’t be into another girl aka she would never be into me) or because she was taken or because i just didn’t want to risk this long friendship ending.

but of info:

sam was (at the time) a cis guy. (sam is now questioning their gender but is leaning towards nonbinary transfem, but that was not yet the case during the time this story happened. so i will be using they/them pronouns for same obviously, but keep in mind that at the time, sam was a cis guy). before sam and jane got together, sam told me they had a crush on me but i rejected them.

jane (at the time) identified as bisexual.

the thing is, all of this happened during covid so sam and jane couldn’t see each other very often, but sometimes when the number of cases in our town went down, the restrictions were lifted. so one day, it was allowed to meet up in smaller groups again. so sam, jane, another friend and i spent the day together in town.

eventually that other friend had to leave because of something unrelated, so i was alone with the other two. sam and jane were in that stage of the relationship were they were very comfortable with each other and kinda already out of the “honeymoon” stage yk?

since i was very close to both of them separately, i didn’t feel like a third wheel there. it was a tiny bit awkward for me, because i did still have that crush on jane, but neither of them knew that.

we were all just kinda talking until the convo turned to like reminiscing about jane and my past since we’ve been friends very long and have been through a lot together. at some point, jane said that she has something to say that i might find weird.

obviously, this made me (and sam) very curious. jane laughed and then said that she used to have a huge crush on me, but was too shy to say that. i was admittedly not unhappy about that, so i told her that i too “used to” have a crush on her. (i lied a bit in the way that i said that was in the past when that crush very much was still there).

then i felt kinda bad, but before i could like backtrack (bc obviously i wasn��t trying to mess with their relationship), sam laughed and said that they wouldn’t mind if i joined their relationship. jane agreed and like kinda officially “invited me in.” (they were not in an open relationship, but apparently both their crushes on me were not so much in the past as i thought lol).

at first i thought that was a joke, but apparently they had kinda talked about that before and while it was spontaneous, it was definitely also a serious offer.

i was however still not into sam, and i didn’t think it was fair if i said yes without actually liking both of them back, so i rejected them awkwardly and went home not long after because i was totally not expecting that and just like totally startled me yk?

shortly after, like a few weeks, jane broke up with sam and said that she realized that she’s a lesbian because of “something that happened recently” and like. she never did say what it was, but one of our mutual friends who i had told about that situation from before, kept insinuating that i was involved in whatever situation jane meant. jane and sam themselves have never said anything like that to me and they are both still friends with each other (and with me, even if jane and i are more distant now).

so it’s very ambiguous if i really had anything to do with the end of their relationship, but that one mutual friend fully thinks that it was at least in part because of me. but like idk. so AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[summerlycoris]

Is it really a birthday party if you wake up in a hospital?

Chapter 20- it's a bitter pill, and it's hard to swallow.

AO3 link- here

Chronological link- here

Authors notes- References to child death in this chapter- as well as to the dead therapists. Nothing graphic- but they're brought up.

Back in intermediate, there hadn't been any midterms. Sure, there’d be exams. But not in a block, like this.

“... Anyway, from next Wednesday, through to the Monday afterwards, will be midterms. There’ll be two per day…” Miss Nichol stumbled out, during announcements. 

No one seemed happy about this. One boy even yelled out “Oh come on - we’ve already had one this year!”

And no one seemed unhappier than Setia. Though, from their frozen face with wide eyes, they were more scared than unhappy. 

Which didn’t fill Cassie with a lot of confidence about midterms- It must be super hard, if Setia’s freaking out about it!  

Miss Nichol tried to quiet down the steady murmur of disappointed kids. “I know- still, you have about a week to study, and revise for it. I know you can do well!”

‘About’ is doing some heavy work there, Cassie thought. It’s Friday! You couldn’t have told us about this on Monday?

Cassie just wondered what she’d need to do for midterms. ‘Study’, and ‘revise’- she got that bit! But this would be for all their subjects- and Cassie still felt like she was dawdling behind everyone. 

This is going to be hell-

She felt the desk move a bit. And looked over to Setia. They’d just laid their head down on the desk, in defeat. 

… At the very least, it gave Cassie an idea. She waited until Miss Nichol launched into a drowning monologue, before whispering to Setia- “Psst! Hey, Setia?”

They responded by tilting their head sideways, so that they could look up at Cassie. “Yeah?” They mumbled. 

For a moment, Cassie wasn’t sure whether to ask. If she did, there’d be a missing person haunting them. But then, if she didn’t, there’d just be a lost opportunity haunting her. 

“Do you want to come over later, and study for midterms with me? I… feel a little unprepared for it, to be honest.” 

The only thing she could hear was Miss Nichols in the background, as Setia seemed to be thinking it over. 

“Okay.” They said, and Cassie felt so relieved. “Do you have a phone now?” Cassie nodded. “Can we swap numbers after this?”

She nodded again, and they turned their head back facedown on the desk. 

________

Cassie got picked up by Andy this afternoon. Setia had already told her they’d take the bus, like usual. Which made sense- despite the walk from the bus stop, to Cassie’s house, Setia would probably beat her home. Especially with the traffic. 

When Cassie got home, she saw Setia waiting out in the porch swing. Almost like those rare, old times. 

But back then, Janet would also be there.

She went through the garage with Andy, and then let Setia in through the front door. “Thank you for coming- if you want, you could stay for dinner tonight?” She’d asked Andy about it earlier on the ride home. 

Setia shook their head. “Sorry, Mom’ll be making something tonight. So I’ll want to be home for it.”

Cassie tried not to let it get to her- even if that didn’t give them much time to study. Or talk, for that matter. 

“Well, we can always study again tomorrow- I bet you’ll ace the math and history exams!” she said.

Setia just looked awkward. “Err, maybe. Let's get started!”

So they did. They set up at the kitchen table- laying out Cassie’s composition books, textbooks Setia had brought in from school, and their binders full of notes. Setia’s binders seemed slightly more full than Cassie’s, which she’d left at school. (It was too heavy to bring home her composition books and her ring binders, all at once.) 

Setia had left their satchel at the other end of the table, with what looked like some of their composition books poking out of it. Pretty soon, most of the table was covered. And they had to make a decision- what subject to start with, first?

“I think… we should start with something we both have. So, maybe science?” Cassie suggested, thinking they’d be more likely on even ground for science. 

Setia nodded, and they pulled their binder from that subject over to themselves. While Cassie grabbed the science textbook from the pile. 

For a while, they just looked over their notes, or checked through the textbook. Cassie focused on her notes on the periodic table- with the way they’d been focusing on it in class recently, it was really likely to be in midterms. And she found it hard to remember everything about it. Her notes weren’t… the best. And she figured they weren’t perfect- so she consulted the textbook and her binder a fair bit, too. 

When she’d get bored of this loop- notes, binder, then textbook- she’d glance over at Setia. Who seemed like… they’re not even reading their notes? They were staring out the kitchen window, eyes locked on nothing in the distance. 

“Hey, Setia?”

They jumped a little, before looking at her. “Yeah?” 

She took a deep breath. “... Are you okay? This isn’t really like you.”

In the past, Setia would normally be the person getting Janet back on track, during assignments. They’d had a really good sense of focus, in the past.

… Maybe that’s changed recently.  

They pursed their lips, before responding. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just got a bit distracted- it’s all good.”

Cassie didn’t buy it. They didn’t look okay. But she couldn’t do too much about it- she couldn’t force them to open up to her. 

Though, they did ask her a strange question afterwards. “Is it okay if I look over your science notes, for a bit?”

Cassie nodded, and gave them her science composite book. It made sense to her- since they’d given her notes when she got back from rehab. Now I can return the favor.  

It also gave her a chance to take a break from studying science- she was all periodic-tabled out. 

“Is it okay if I check your literacy notes?” she asked. She’d been doing okay in that class, but figured it’d be good to double check for anything she'd missed. 

Setia nodded, and handed her one of their binders. “I’ve got some literacy handouts and notes in there. It should help?”

Cassie agreed, and had a look through their literacy binder. It was… surprisingly empty. With multiple slips that Cassie had received, missing. 

Except, once she thought about it a bit more, it wasn’t ‘surprising’ at all.

After all, Setia was skipping at least a class a day right now. Sometimes multiple classes, on a bad day. 

…

It clicked. And now she understood why they’d been so disheartened during homeroom. 

There wasn’t anything Cassie could do about that right now. Unless she had a magic wand stashed around here, somewhere. And she didn’t. Or I would use it to make it that Gregory never went missing. That Dad and Aunt Miskovsky never went missing, either…  

… So instead of focusing on that, she went through the slips and notes Setia had in their literacy binder. While there were missing slips that Cassie could’ve used, there were also notes that helped Cassie understand subjects that she’d only kind of understood during school. 

For a while, she managed to keep focus on reading through those slips. Even with the noises of cars going by, or Setia flicking through Cassie’s composite book next to her. When she looked up to the right, she could see the sun had started going down in the window. 

Not long after that, Setia stood up and said “I’ll be back in a moment.” before leaving down the hallway. 

Cassie didn’t worry- they’d been here a few times in the past, and knew where the toilet was. 

Though, she did run out of literacy slips to look over in Setia’s binder. And she wanted to study something else before it got too late. Cassie looked through what was on the table- Setia’s binders, and textbooks, for Band, Science, Math… The math one could be good to study. But their binder looked empty- even from what Cassie could see with it being closed. It just didn’t look very full. Which… could’ve been a sign of how well Setia was doing at math ( So good, they don’t need to keep slips about it .) Or a sign of how badly they were doing. ( So badly , due to skipping class .) And their math textbook was the same as her own… 

Maybe they have some notes written in their math workbook? Cassie thought, as she looked towards their satchel. It was right there, on the table. With various composite books sticking out that Setia must’ve forgotten to drag out. 

So it wasn’t a hard decision. She grabbed her crutches and went over to where Setia’s satchel was, and tried to grab the composite books from inside. That way, she could read the labels and find the ‘math’ one. 

She looked over them- but didn’t see Math included. Instead, she found a composite book without a label. 

Strange…

That could’ve been their math book- maybe the label peeled off? So she cracked it open.

There wasn’t math inside. At least, not school math. 

There were various equations. Dates. Scraps from newspapers and what looks like online articles scrapbooked in. All spread out, some with names or places written beside them. The one that caught her attention most was Janet’s name- on the page. And the date her remains were ‘discovered’ by the police. 

‘Janet Faraday- 09/09/2035’

Cassie’s head spun.

“What are you doing?”

She jumped a bit, and nearly dropped that book on the floor. “I- I was looking for your math workbook. Sorry, I should have waited until you got back.”

“Yeah, you should’ve . Give me that back.” Setia demanded. 

Cassie turned to face them, and handed it back. 

Setia rolled their eyes, as they grabbed their book. “I think I forgot my math workbook at school. There wouldn’t have been much in it though- you’re not missing much…” they looked away from her, and Cassie saw an opening to talk about what she’d noticed. 

“You’ve been having some trouble with the classes recently, haven’t you?”

She’d been planning to use this as a jumping off point, if Setia was opening up to her. To talk about Janet, and how her death must have affected them. To reassure them that, even if they hadn’t really been friends in previous years, she was still happy to lend them an ear over this. 

If Setia was opening up to her.

…

They weren’t. 

Instead, they waved her off. “Don’t worry about my classes- you’ve been out of school for how long? Focus on yourself- I’ll be alright.”

At that point, they went over and started grabbing their textbooks and binders. “I’ve got to start heading home anyway- it's getting late. I’ll see you in homeroom.”

Cassie wasn’t sure what to say to that, as they scooped up their supplies and made their way out of the kitchen.

All she could do was wonder about that book, and realized- Setia probably hadn’t been working on a history assignment that day.

_________

She went to bed early, not long after dinner, and got thinking. 

They’d been trying to figure out who Janet’s killer was. Or, maybe trying to trace other missing people, to find a link?

That would make sense, to Cassie. She hadn’t paid a lot of attention to the news recently. But she remembered that news report she heard on the radio, about a boy going missing. How suspicious it had sounded.

If anything, she wanted to ask Setia about it. If they were trying to track down that monster, maybe they would also be able to track down Gregory? From what Tony had told her, it was likely he’d been working with that monster, or for it. After all, GGY had been using the animatronics to stalk Tony. Had been working with the white bunny lady. Who had been wearing her Vanni mask… they both had been operating out of the same place the monster came from. 

That couldn’t be a coincidence.

Maybe he still was working for it. 

Maybe he made it? If what Tony said about him being a hacker was true?

Maybe he had led her to the Pizzaplex, had lied to her about helping her escape…

Focus, Cassie!

There were so many unknowns, with Gregory. Too many. 

She knew he needed to be stopped. That this monster needed to be stopped, too. Plus, that bunny lady that Tony brought up. But she also knew it’d sound like a complete joke if she told the police what she knew- otherwise, she would’ve told them back at the beginning. 

They weren’t any more likely to believe her now. Even if she got Tony to back her up.

So… she had no real idea on how to stop Gregory, that rabbit lady, and the monster, from hurting more people.

Killing them. He's been killing them.

… But maybe Setia did. 

If Cassie was right, and they were trying to crack this case, anyway. 

But there was one problem with just asking Setia about it. 

One of the dates Cassie had seen was for her. ‘Cassiopeia Mathers? 08/11/2035’

They knew she’d been to the Pizzaplex. That that was where she’d been found. 

If she told Setia about what had happened to her… would they understand? Or would they blame her for Janet? 

Because… it had been her choices that released that monster. If she hadn’t, Janet would’ve still been here. 

These thoughts just made her feel rotten- I’m trying to be their friend- but if they knew the truth they’d hate my guts. 

With that, she came to two conclusions. 

They couldn’t ask Setia about what they had found out. 

And she couldn't keep trying to befriend them. It just wasn’t fair to them. 

Even if this meant losing out on knowing one of the people she’d had decent experiences with back in elementary school. 

________

She’d done plenty of studying yesterday- really trying to cram as much knowledge into her head as she could. And when she got tired of studying, she talked to Lawrence and Sionhan for a bit, before getting back to the grind.

Mom’s gonna be proud.

Now she felt much more confident about her chances. Despite her setbacks earlier this year, she was sure she’d at least pass the tests. 

But midterms weren’t the only thing coming up. It also wasn’t long before Hannah’s birthday. It was on the second of December, but Cassie wanted to plan ahead.

She wasn’t going to let her have a bad birthday, not like she had. If it was the last thing she could do.

Which was why she and her Mom were out at the mall on Sunday, after Mom got back from church. Like Mom had planned earlier, except to buy something else, Cassie thought. 

“So, what kind of things does your little friend like?” Mom asked her, while they sat down in a bustling mall, at a table. Mom was having a coffee, while they planned out exactly where to go. 

‘All the best, to make a game plan before going in’, Mom always said.

Problem one- Cassie didn’t know Hannah that well. She liked drawing. And she liked birds. That’s all she really had. 

In retrospect, maybe I should’ve asked Lawrence first? Cassie thought, before thinking again. “Can I ring a friend, to see if there’s anything special before we go in?” Cassie asked her Mom. 

Mom tilted her head at that. “Sure, that gives me time to finish my drink.”

Cassie nodded, and fished her phone out of her jeans pocket. The phone rang a few times, before Lawrence grabbed it. “Hello Cassie! How are you?”

“I’m great Lawrence. Hey, I’ve got something I need to ask you…”

She explained why she was ringing, and what she needed to know. While Lawrence listened, patiently. 

“Well, Cassie. There’s a lot of options! Hannah likes blocks- you know the ones that you can make patterns with? She also likes dolls- especially animal dolls and plushies.”

Cassie nodded, and took some mental notes. 

“... She’s also looking for some new pencils, for drawing at home. Her old coloring pencils are nearly out. Though, I’m buying her replacements… Was there anything else?”

“No, not really.” Cassie answered, before rethinking. “Actually- you and Chris will be there, huh? Do you know of anyone else?”

She could hear him humm into the line, thinking it over. “I don’t think so? Last year, it was just me and Chris. And her family and their friends, of course. It was a pretty big party- I don’t think Hannah invited them all though.”

… That just steeled Cassie's resolve. Especially because an idea had popped into her head. 

“Do you know what her favorite color is?”

“She likes most colors, but loves pink. Especially light pink.”

“That makes sense- thank you for helping me!” They said their goodbyes, and hung up. 

Mom asked her about it, between sips of her drink. “Any ideas?”

She nodded. “Yep! I could make her a journal. Or rather, buy a journal, then make a nice cover for it. I swear I saw a tutorial online…” she’d need to ask Mom if she could go on the internet later, to find that tutorial. Since she couldn’t quite remember what measurements she should use. “Anyway, I could use some fat quarters I have at home- and I might be able to embroider some birds on.”

“Well, that sounds like a nice gift idea. But wouldn’t it make more sense to just buy a journal with a nice cover already? You do have midterms- and plenty of studying still to do!” Mom said. 

She had a point about midterms… but Cassie shook her head. “I’ve been doing well with studying- I hope, anyway. I won’t let this distract me, her birthday’s after midterms, anyway. And I don’t think I’ll find what I’m looking for in stores. It has to be made.” because it did - the specific vision Cassie had for it, wouldn’t be able to be found elsewhere. 

Mom shrugged, and finished her coffee quickly. “Okay then- but I will be making sure you study before working on this project. 

She agreed, and Mom stood up. “In that case, did you want to go and look for a nice art journal?” Mom asked. Cassie nodded. “Okay. In that case, you can look for the journal, while I do some other shopping. Let's get going.” 

Cassie stood up, and followed her towards one of the anchor stores. 

________

It hadn’t taken her too long to find the right journal. She figured a composition notebook would work- they have plenty of pages, and weren’t expensive. (she was running out of money… and she wasn’t sure when she’d be able to earn more- most chores around the house she couldn’t do properly with crutches.)

She also managed to find a small 2035 calendar, for about fifty cents. It had bird pictures on it- and when Cassie flicked through, she found one that she could easily use as the base for her embroidery project. 

She only remembered after going to the checkout, to check that the notebook wasn’t lined, or gridded. Flinging it open and scanning through, while keeping an ear out for the line moving forward. 

On one hand- the book did have unlined pages. On the other hand- the book was about half-full of lined pages. 

She groaned, and was tempted to drag herself back to the stationary section, to swap for a completely unlined book. Until she thought about it- Hannah might like it like this? She could write down about what she draws on the lined pages?  

That was a possibility. It could really end up like a journal - or a scrapbook. There were many possibilities for it.

So Cassie stayed in line, keeping an eye out for the line moving while checking messages on her phone, and an ear out for cashiers calling out ‘Next please.’

It took a while, but eventually she was next. And it didn’t take long for her to be called up- “Next please!” except that voice sounded familiar. Though, she couldn’t place it until she put her phone away and looked up. 

“ Tony? I didn’t know you worked here.” She said, as she went up to his register.

He reached out for the journal, card, and calendar, as she gave it to him. “That’s okay- I didn’t know you shopped here, either.” He joked. “How’ve you been, Cassie?”

“I’ve been good, how about you?” She asked. 

“Alternating between working hard, and hardly working. In other words- about as good as it gets!” he joked. “What about you? Are midterms happening for you yet?”

She nodded, solemnly. “I’ve been studying hard for them- they’re next week. But it’s still a little scary! What are they like?”

He shrugged, while scanning her items. “They get less scary, the more of them you do. In the end, all you can do is your best.”

That… kind of made sense to her. Exams had been scary at first, when she started school. 

“Anyway, these will be four-fifty. Do you want to pay by cash, or card?” He asked, absentmindedly. With what Cassie could only call his ‘customer service voice’.

It was hard not to laugh a bit about it. “Cash, please.” she said, as she handed him the mix of coins and notes. 

It wasn’t visible but his palm felt like it had a scar on it. Like he'd tried to grab a knife blade with that hand.

“Of course- need a receipt?” he asked, taking her payment. 

She shook her head. And had a sudden thought- she may not be able to talk to Setia about Gregory and Janet’s death. 

But she could probably talk to Tony about it. After all, he’d told her himself, about how he’d been investigating Gregory when he was younger 

Though, even that had some points where it could go badly. 

Just as he was giving her a paper bag with her items, she asked- “Hey, can I talk to you more after work?”

He laughed a bit. “Of course- I’ll give you a ring once I’m off shift, okay?”

She nodded, and thanked him before leaving. She couldn’t hold up the line forever. Plus, she needed to go find Mom. 

________

When she got home, she got started on the project for Hannah. She didn’t have money to get anything more, so she’d have to make sure to get this right . 

First thing was pleading with Mom for access to her laptop, so she could get the tutorial. Then asking her to show her where Dad’s printer was now, so she could retrieve what she had printed off for it. (Turns out, it was upstairs in her old bedroom. It felt really weird going up there, seeing the mix of Gregory’s old items, and Dad’s old office stuff. )

Once she had it- on paper, and more permanent- she went back to her room to gather her supplies to her little red desk. 

Some various tones of pink fat quarters, pins, fabric crayons, and scissors. She managed to plan out the fabric according to the tutorial pretty easily- even cutting the material a little crooked, and pinning it together to give it an interesting pattern. Kind of like in the tutorial.

It didn’t take too long to get it figured out, and ready to be sewn together. It even looked like it would fit nicely over the book, while pinned together. 

Now for the hard part.

She’d embroidered this way before- but that didn’t make this section any less daunting. 

It meant using the light from the living room window (the brightest point in the house, at this time.) to help see the bird photo through the water soluble stabilizer, so she could trace it. 

It turned out… passable , for her. It looked like a hummingbird, at least. 

Afterwards, she took her new hummingbird, and the calender, back to her desk. Where she was able to stick the stabilizer onto the fabric- on what should end up being the front cover-then put the fabric into a spare embroidery hoop.

She’d only just got done with that part, when she heard her phone ring. 

“Hello? Tony?” she asked.

“Hey Cassie, sorry for getting back to you so late- how’ve you been? Since you left the shops, I mean.” he clarified, sounding a little sheepish. 

“I’ve been good. I’ve just been working on a project.”

“What kind of project?”

“A sewing one, for someone-I-knows birthday.”

“That sounds nice- did you want to send through a photo when it’s done, so I can see it?”

She agreed, then launched into more serious topics. The reason she’d wanted to talk to him in the first place. 

“Hey, I remember you talking about it, when we met at Ms Tyrian’s house. How you’d been investigating GGY when you were younger. Are you still looking into that kind of stuff?”

There was silence on the other end. And for a moment, Cassie wondered if the line had died. 

“Tony?”

“... I haven’t been recently. But I still have research, from before he attacked me. Why are you asking…?”

She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Well, it’s that. I think I have some information that could be useful, if you’re looking into this.”

All she could hear was shallow breaths, on the other end. And she got a bad feeling-

After all. He’d told her about what they’d asked of him. What they’d implied would happen if he didn’t heed their warning. 

‘But if you do win, you gotta be good and stop messing with us.’

And resuming investigating them would definitely count as ‘messing with them’.

“Okay. Look. Let’s not do this over the phone. Phones can be tapped. That library, near your school? How about we meet there tomorrow?” He whispered.

“Okay.” It felt like her mouth went dry. She hadn’t even considered that possibility.

“Okay. Good. I’ll see you after school then. Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?”

There wasn’t anything else major to talk about. But she did ask him a few things- just small talk-y things really. Like when he started work, and so on. 

Once they hung up, Cassie was left with some things to think about. The fear that Tony seemed to have, about looking into him again- it made her second guess herself. 

Curiosity killed the cat… would it also kill the kids?

She didn’t want to find out. 

But she knew she needed to talk about this with someone. And even if he was scared, Tony still seemed willing to listen. 

________

It was easy to get to the library after school- because Andy was going to do some work there, anyway. 

She carried Cassie’s bag on her back, and her crutches in her arms, while Cassie rolled along the footpath behind her. 

It’d been a hard, painful day for walking earlier- she’d hurt herself earlier in P.E. Bumping into something- she thought it was one of the bleacher seats- and leaving a large bruise that she could see near her right ankle, if she pulled up her leggings. Though, she couldn’t feel it. It worried her once she noticed it, and reported it to her teacher.

‘Look. It’s pretty unlikely you’ll experience autonomic dysreflexia- you have a t-12 incomplete injury, right? But you should let that ankle rest anyway. Especially since you can’t feel if it’s getting worse.’ that’s what Mr Winfried had told her, before sending her off early to the office.

With that, she’d been given an ice pack and swapped over to her wheelchair midway through the day.

It felt a little embarrassing to leave school like this- with her sister carrying most of her stuff. But she knew it wouldn't be forever- once they made it to the library, Andy could put her stuff into her car, and take out her Roxy supplies. And no one would have any reason to stare at her anymore. 

Well, they’d have less of a reason to stare.  

Looking on the bright side- the walk ( err, roll?) To the library from school was always a scenic one. With pretty houses, and nice trees lining the footpath. The footpath even looked new- there must’ve been a revitalisation here recently? Cassie thought. 

It made sense- considering how the library had looked refurbished too. 

Andy occasionally asked her some questions- about school and so on. But mostly, they just went in silence. 

Once they got there, Andy put the supplies she’d been carrying away, and took out her own supplies. “I think I can work on Roxy’s chestplate today. I’ve got enough filament anyway. We’re gonna be here a while.” Andy said, as she walked up the ramp into the library. 

Cassie followed, and knew what places to avoid so she wouldn’t get bogged down again. Only needing to cross one small section of carpet- and managing to get through it by herself. 

It made her feel… Well, glad. That she was getting better at this.

Now all she needed to do was find Tony. She knew he’d be in here- but didn’t know where he’d be exactly. All she could do was hope that he wasn’t up on the second floor. 

“Hey, I’m going to meet up with a friend for a bit.” Cassie said, as Andy got ready at one of the three-d printers. 

She didn’t even look up as she said “All good- catch you later.”

After she left the maker's space, she sent a text message asking where he was exactly- easier than really going looking for him. It didn’t take more than a minute before she got a response- that he was on the ground floor- but over near the elevator. 

‘It’s a quiet place, where no one will overhear us.’ he’d messaged back. 

So that was where she went.

________

He’d nestled himself into a nook over to the side of the bathroom- on the side of the fiction books, sitting down in the aisle that started from that wall. But he wasn’t reading anything. He had what looked like some notes in his hands. 

“Hey, Tony. It’s good to see you.” Cassie said quietly, as she went up to him. She felt weird looking down at him- and considered if they were going to be here for a while, whether she should sit on the floor too.

He looked up, and didn’t seem surprised to see her. He’d probably heard her wheels squeaking over the polished wood. “It’s good to see you too- sorry about having to cut you off last night. He is a good hacker, so I didn’t want to risk him tapping my phoneline.”

“That makes sense.” Because while tapping phones wasn’t hacking, it was kind of hacking-adjacent- anyone who knew how to do one could probably learn to do the other. “Is that why you chose a dark aisle, too?”

He laughed sheepishly, as he looked behind him. The aisle was empty. “I know this isn’t the best spot- I’d prefer to be upstairs. More sunlight, and there’s decent chairs. But that’s too open- anyone could’ve seen us and wondered what we were doing.”

To be honest, anyone who saw them upstairs probably would’ve thought they were doing homework together. Or that Tony was tutoring her. Anyone who saw them here, would probably guess something was up. But she wasn’t going to fight him on that. 

“I’m kind of glad we’re here actually- now’s not the best day for me to go upstairs.” Cassie admitted. She undid her belt, kicked up her footrests, and went to sit on the ground just in front of him. Being careful with her kafo brace, and of her right ankle. Earning a surprised look from him.

“It was a hard day at school- had to cut P.E short.” She admitted, as well. 

He reached out, and put one of his hands over hers. “You don’t need to justify yourself- you’re recovering in your own time, okay?”

She nodded, he pulled back, and she tried to go back to the subject they needed to talk about. “Anyway. I’ve been thinking- well no, it’s more like I saw something last week that had me putting pieces together-” she stopped herself, because she realized she wasn’t making much sense. Especially looking at Tony’s face. He just looked confused, if also curious. 

“Go on?”

She took a deep breath, and tried again. “One of my classmates is trying to figure out who killed Janet- at least, that’s what I think.” Tony’s face blanched. But she kept going. “I saw their workbook on Friday. It included the date that Janet’s body was found. As well as other dates, and other names. I think some were for other people who went missing recently- one of them was for ‘Lachlan Davidson’... and they had my name written down, too.”

Tony sucked a shallow breath through his teeth, as she continued. “I think they’re putting the pieces together- I know that that monster targeted me and Janet. If they think the other missing people are going missing from it too… maybe Gregory is helping it? Maybe the bunny lady is, too?”

At that, she waited. And gave him time to digest that idea. Because she had suspicions. But none of what she said was backed up with proof . 

Yet. 

Yet , because maybe she could use his research on GGY as more of a link, between Gregory, bunny lady, the monster, and Janet. 

When he did speak up, it wasn’t in the way she expected. 

“Cassie… maybe your classmate is behind this?”

It felt like she short circuited. 

“Just- think about it! They’re keeping track of when people ‘disappear’- including their names. Could it be… less of an investigation, and more like a diary? A record of their crimes, a trophy- something they can use to relive the event?”

Cassie didn’t want to even consider this.

“... But Setia was Janet’s best friend. They’ve been really messed up by their death- missing classes, and everything.”

Tony just gave her a blank look. “And I thought Greg was one of my friends. You know ‘best friend’ doesn’t mean much these days.”

He had a point. And she hated it.

But all in all- Setia just didn’t make sense as the answer to ‘who killed Janet .’ or even to ‘who tricked me into going to the Pizzaplex and letting out that monster? ’

Setia was smart- but hadn’t displayed any knowledge of hacking. During previous assignments, they hadn’t even been super computer literate- asking Janet to help them format an excel spreadsheet. Hacking- tech literacy- was a skill they’d need to hack the forum. 

And prior to Janet’s death, they hadn’t been acting weird. They’d just been… themself.

(But she hadn’t thought Gregory was acting weird, before he disappeared. Maybe my judgment isn’t so sound here… )

She considered it. Even if considering it made her feel like a poisonous slug was slowly climbing down her throat. And then she raised her counterargument. The one she’d asked him to meet her for to begin with- “even if Setia is part of this- I get the feeling Gregory has something to do with it too. He knows how to hack- the Fazfans forum had to shut down its private messaging system, because people were being lured to the pizzaplex. Setia’s never shown any skill for hacking- but GGY did, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, he did. He was capable of even hacking the animatronics.” He sighed, and rubbed a hand over his face. “Maybe they’re working together- but I seriously think this ‘Setia’ kid sounds suspicious. Don’t discount their potential involvement, just because you like them. That’s a great way to get blindsided.”

Her shoulders slumped. As much as it didn’t make sense for Setia to be the only suspect… they could easily slot into a team with Gregory. Where their skills could compliment his own. 

There was still a sticking point. “I don’t think Setia and Gregory ever met- they’re in two different grades. And have never been to the same school.”

Unfortunately, Tony had a good rebuttal to that. “The rabbit lady was a lady- probably an adult under her suit. And yet, she knew Greg well enough to work with him. The generational divide isn’t enough to stop them from teaming up- him and Setia could’ve met at the Pizzaplex when it was open.”

She sighed, and gave up. She didn’t have any way to defend Setia- and the more she listened, the more she felt like he was right. 

“Okay. Maybe you’re right. Maybe Setia is a murderer…” Cassie mumbled. Tony nodded. And Cassie continued. “Well, in that case… what do you know about GGY? Gregory is still out there. And he could be hurting people- killing them!”

“I know. I- look .” Tony slapped a hand on the papers, making a crinkly noise. “I need you to make me a deal. I can give you what I know- satisfy your curiosity. But you need to stop looking into this afterwards.”

“Wait, what?! ” Cassie squawked. Louder than she’d intended- Tony winced, and looked around frantically. “What do you mean by that?” She asked, in a whisper. Leaning in a bit closer to him. 

“I mean- you could get killed for sticking your nose into this stuff! Have you learnt nothing from what happened to me? From what happened to you? ”

She winced, and drew back. 

“You weren’t even looking into this- and still got targeted. Just because you were his friend. Because you could be easily manipulated.” He poked a finger at her chest. But didn’t make contact. “Don’t make your mother bury you.”

The logic didn’t add up. “Like you said- he targeted me anyway. I don’t think it matters what I do- if he- or Setia- or whoever- wants me gone, they know where I live.”

Tony stayed silent, looking away from her. So she kept going. “If we find out enough about them, maybe they can be arrested? If they’re arrested, no one will have to worry about them any more- they won’t be able to hurt anyone ever again.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “I just wanted to be an investigative journalist… you want to be the next Nancy Drew, clearly.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “Well, personally, I’d prefer to be racing at Roxy Racers, without crutches, braces, or a wheelchair. Neck and neck with my best friend on the track. Unfortunately, I can’t have that anymore.” she said, acidly.

He blushed a little, and looked away. “Maybe that was a little uncharitable. I guess it’s more like… you want justice.”

She nodded. “Who doesn’t?”

Tony sighed, and reluctantly handed over the notes in his hand. 

“These are my notes, from that dumb school project I was doing. Or rather, a copy of them- printed off, just for you.” He said with a small smile. “You can take them with you- but when you are done please shred them or otherwise destroy them . I don’t want anyone else seeing these.”

He still had that small smile, but it looked strained. When Cassie looked over the paper’s he’d handed her, it was a stapled booklet, on regular a4 paper. The front page just had ‘ The Mysterious GGY- by Boots, Mr. Rabbit, and Tarbell.’  

“... Ignore the nom de plumes. I know they’re a little cringey.” Tony said, sheepishly. “In my defense, I was twelve.”

Cassie thought his reaction to the ‘nom de plumes’ was a bit funnier than the nom de plumes themselves, to be honest. But she kept her face straight- this was still a serious situation, after all.

Flipping through, she saw it was multiple pages- and just from skimming, she could see it looked more like a fictional story, than an investigation.

She looked up at Tony quizzically, and he clarified. “It was a school project- meant for Mrs Soto’s class.”

Now she got it. Kind of. She’d been in Mrs Soto’s class last year- “You trickster , tricking her into thinking it was just a story.”

His smile grew wider, more real. “True- but my hands were tied! Anyway, check the last pages. They’re newer.” He said, quietly. 

She flipped past the ‘Mysterious GGY’- and came to raw notes that Tony must’ve used to inform his story. These notes weren’t typed, like the story before them- they were handwritten. Notes about people he talked to. Notes about Gregory’s behavior during that time, presumably written after the attack. About the attack- and the aftermath.

She didn't have time to do it justice right now- she looked back up at him, and closed the booklet. “I’ll have to read this more later, when I get home. It's been a while, and Andy could be done at any time.”

He nodded. “That makes sense- that’s why I’m giving it to you, to take. So you don’t have to read it all at once. Anyway, who’s Andy- are they your sibling?”

Cassie clarified- getting sidetracked talking about her sister, and what she was here to do. “... Once she’s done with building Roxy, I’ll be able to thank her for helping me out of the sinkhole- for saving my life.”

“Just as long as I never have to meet her again- she nearly caught me up at the Prize Counter. I’m not sure if I’m ready to forgive them, even if they were being hacked.

“That’s fair. I don’t know how to feel about Monty- he nearly drowned me!”

At that point, her phone buzzed. She fished it out of her pocket, and saw Andy had left her a text asking where she was.

“I’ve got to get going- Andy must be done with the three-d printer. But thank you for meeting up with me like this. And sorry, for bringing up old wounds.” Cassie said, using what she’d learnt at rehab to get back into her chair, without risking falling over sans crutches. She had to fold up the booklet a few times, and put it inside her pants pocket to take it though. 

Tony waved her off. “No need to apologize- I wouldn’t have met with you if I didn’t think it was a good idea. Though.” He stood up, and leaned in close to her. “Please don’t forget our deal- I know you’re worried about this, and you want justice. But it’s not for you to investigate. Okay?” She nearly objected- until he put a hand on her shoulder and continued. “How about I look into this, okay? You’ve given me a great lead… I’ll be the investigator on this one. Okay?”

It didn’t make sense. With how reluctant Tony was earlier. With how scared he’d been even to talk over the phone. 

“But- what about you? Gregory could kill you!” She exclaimed. 

He looked away. Then back at her. “Well, I’m older now. Hopefully wiser too. Maybe this time won’t be like the last time?” He grinned. It didn’t look like a grin. 

Tony must’ve seen her conflicted expression, because he sighed and tried again. “Look. I’m not gonna let a middle schooler risk their life for no reason. I’ll do this- if it means keeping you safe.”

And now she got it. And felt a shiver run down her back. 

But a high schooler isn’t much older than a middle schooler.

“Okay.”

She didn’t know how to feel about that. It just made her feel… empty? 

But he seemed relieved, at her agreement. “I’m glad you understand. You’ve got a good life, Cassie- and a sister who wants to take you home.” 

If she listened, she could hear Andy calling out her name nearby. Not too loudly… but most noise carries in the library.

“I’ll talk to you again soon- stay safe.” She told him, then put her footrests back down and started buckling her belt. 

“I will, don’t worry. Could you do me a favor though?” Cassie looked back up, from her stubborn buckle. “Stay away from that Setia kid, until they’re no longer a suspect.”

She nodded, said goodbye, then slowly reversed out of the aisle. She could see him walk the other way, turn the corner into the next aisle.

Then he was out of sight. 

________

She hadn’t been able to give his notes a good look that afternoon- because she’d knuckled down for midterms. Studying for it as soon as she was done with dinner.

Before that talk with Tony, she’d been considering studying with Setia again, for Tuesday evening. Even if she didn’t want to be their friend at that moment- being convinced if Setia found out what she known about Janet, they’d hate her forever. 

Well.

If they murdered Janet, alongside Gregory and that monster… Cassie definitely didn’t want to study with them!

So she didn’t. Instead, she spent Tuesday and Wednesday after school studying with non-suspected murderers- like Lawrence, and Hannah.

Heck, she wasn’t even enthused about sitting next to them in homeroom now- she didn’t move seats, because it’d look weird. But she didn’t strike up any extraneous conversations with them.

Not that they seemed too bothered by that.  

The first three days of midterms were over- with a much needed break for the home stretch, over the weekend. 

Now Cassie was being quiet in her room. Because Mom was in the house- and she’d lied that she was going to study in her room.

(In reality, she felt like if she studied right now, her head would explode.)

There were a few quiet things she could do in here. Like more work on the embroidery of the hummingbird. She’d been slowly picking away at that task during spare moments of time- and the bird was now half finished. 

It looked good so far. And Cassie was confident she could get the whole thing done shortly after Midterms.

However, she also had something else. That she’d been putting off until she could give it her full attention. 

She’d been meaning to read it after midterms. But now was actually a good time. Reading through the GGY notes would look like studying, if Mom poked her head in.

So she grabbed the notes, from where she’d hidden them in her dresser. And took it to her desk- thankfully just cleared enough to fit the booklet on top. 

She read through the story first- even if it was fictional, it would probably hold clues as to what GGY- Gregory- had been doing. 

And it did. Kind of . It was a story about GGY hacking into the animatronics, and into the various arcade games at the Pizzaplex, to get some insanely high scores. 

It was pretty well written, for a story by three different seventh graders… especially since it was the ‘first draft’, according to it’s intro page.

Cassie had a sneaking suspicion one person had dominated this ‘group project.’

Shaking her head slightly, she went to the second section. The handwritten notes about what Tony had found out about GGY. Reading through it, these notes included some details that weren’t in the story. 

Like the four ‘missing’ therapists. 

‘ There are four therapists that I know of. Mary Schneider, Raelynn Lawrence, Treena Welch, and Georgia Lowe. I know that GGY had something to do with Mary, Raelynn, and Treena’s ‘disappearances.’ and heavily suspect he had something to do with Georgia, too. Was he seeing therapists for some reason?

‘Mary’s body was eventually found- I saw on the news. She’d been mangled by machinery, they said. Her body was found, just before Georgia went missing.

‘He’d taken Mary, Raylynn, and Treena to the pizzaplex, using his playpass. A playpass that he’d modified to act more like a security badge.

‘Just like what he did to me. Except I lived. 

‘I don’t think he hid their corpses in the pizzaplex- at least, I know he hadn’t hid Mary’s there. Otherwise, the Pizzaplex would be implicated in her death. Right?’

… She didn’t have an answer to his rhetorical question.

‘At first I thought maybe he’d just sent Freddy out to stalk them and kill them. But there’s a service- still running, as a skeleton crew by the looks- the Funtime Service. They send out animatronics to birthday parties-’

Cassie couldn’t help shivering. She knew where this was going- and could only thank goodness she hadn’t ever used that service.

‘ -I think GGY wasn’t just hacking the Pizzaplex animatronics- but the ones at the Funtime Service, too. That they may have… disposed of these women… I have no idea where their bodies might be now. I don’t have enough evidence to take to the police, either. My notes are just hearsay- I don’t even have photos.

‘I remember seeing in the news- how there was a class-action lawsuit happening against Fazbear Entertainment. Because an entire cohort of workers had gone missing at the Pizzaplex. If’s possible that Fazbear Entertainment killed them all… I get the sneaking suspicion that GGY had something to do with it. If he had control of not just the Pizzaplex animatronics, but the Funtime Animatronics, then he had the ‘manpower’ to target many people at once- maybe when they were exiting the meeting? And it’d be easy to falsely implicate Fazbear Entertainment for their murders-’

She couldn’t keep reading. Her hands kept shaking, even when she tried to force them to stay steady. 

That was one of the most illuminating things for her in those notes… the rest detailed how Tony found that information, who he’d talked to, and even detailed some crimes he’d committed- like breaking and entering.

(I wouldn't have thought he had it in him.)

The notes were a lot disturbing to read, honestly. 

‘ ... you need to stop looking into this afterwards .’

She was tempted to break that deal she’d made with him. 

But not tempted enough- to want to deal with someone who knows how to send random animatronics after her.

Cassie liked to think she could be brave- sometimes. But she wasn’t that brave. The last thing she wanted to experience was getting murdered by Roxanne Wolf- or Circus Baby, or Bonnie…

(He’s not dead he’s not- )  

She was done with this. Unless something changed- unless she got more proof to take to the police. 

After dinner and studying, she was sitting in the living room with Mom. Working on her embroidery absentmindedly, while watching some boxing matches on tv.

Until it finished. And Mom switched to the news. 

The first thing they saw was a photo. A photo of a young looking boy. Pale skin. Messy brown hair, cherry-brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles. 

“Last Sunday, Kennedy Rogers, age five, disappeared from his family’s tent while they were camping at Zion National Park…”

…

She made a mistake with her embroidery, luckily one she could cover up. 

Her finger bled a bit, from where the needle nicked the tip. It was shallow, and rubbing it with her thumb made the blood go away. At least for a few seconds- before a tiny bead appeared again. 

She stuck her finger in her mouth instead- and hoped.

I hope he finds something soon.

********

Authors notes-

the tutorial for a journal cover is here- https://www.stitchedincolor.com/blog//2012/08/tutorial-journal-covers.html

Also if anyone sees me use the phrase ‘chest of drawers’, or any other not-quite american phrases in this work- please let me know. I’ve tried to use the right terms, but I only know about known-unknowns.

I thought reordering the chapters to have the Hannah-centric one happening first would fix the timeline… just pretend November has like 37 days instead of 30, okay? :p

(If i didn’t mention it, probably no one would notice. But I’d notice. And it drives me batty. But not batty enough to scrap and rewrite this chapter.)

Chapter title is from Pretty Friend by Frente.

[jerzwriter]

High Seas (1 / 2)

I am so catching up on fic requests this week! lol This one is for my bestie, sister from another mister, and soon-to-be NYC jail cell partner (lol nah, we'll be good!) @icecoffee90 based on this ask. I decided to make it a 2-parter. I hope you're OK with that. I hope you enjoy this!

Book: Open Heart (Post Series)

Characters: Tobias Carrick x F!MC, Ethan Ramsey

Category: Fun Fluff?

Words: 1,200

Summary: Casey and Tobias have been looking forward to their vacation plans, a cruise on the high seas with some old Hopkin's friends as well. But when work gets in the way, Casey has a suggestion. Can she sell it?

A/N: Part two will be up tomorrow - This is just some light-hearted fun and I hope you enjoy it. Participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge - I could make it stargazing or sunglasses? It's definitely a summer vacation - does that work Dani? lol? Thank you!

Casey walked into Tobias’s office sheepishly, without saying a word. She turned around and leaned against the locked door. Knowing what that typically meant, he broke into a lascivious grin, but Casey’s scrunched-up face and worried demeanor left him perplexed.   

“Babe...” she grimaced.

“Yes....” he simpered with a raised brow.

“No,” she corrected with a nervous giggle. “It’s not that... not this time, at least. I’m afraid I have some... news.”

His shoulders dropped as his eyes widened. “Oh, shit... you’re not pregnant, are you?”

“What? No!” she shot back incredulously. “Tobias, that happened once, and now every time I have news, you assume that’s it? Besides, I thought you wanted ten kids or something.”

“More like five, but Sammy is barely six months old. Sweetheart,” he smiled as he rose to embrace her, his lips meeting hers in a tender, delightful kiss to seal his wordless apology. “For the record, I would be delighted... but we said we wanted to space the Carrick Pack out a little more, that’s all.”

“Well,” she attempted to worm out of his embrace with a bashful smile that was the very opposite of his devious grin. This man was entirely too proud of the effect he had on her. “Once you hear my news, you’ll probably wish it was Carrick Bambino 2.0.”

His face grew serious as he leaned against his desk, and his wife collapsed into his visitor’s chair.

“Case... you’re OK, right? You’re not sick or something?”

“No, no...” she assured. “Nothing like that. I didn’t mean to frighten you. But remember that proposal I submitted to the governor’s office?”

“The one about expanding free healthcare to children in the state’s poorest communities? Sure, how could I forget? You put your heart and soul into that project – pregnant and all.”

“Well, it paid off... I got a call from the Lieutenant Governor, and well... they loved the proposal and asked if Naveen and I could put a presentation together for them. They’d like to make it happen.”

“Hon! That’s incredible!” He gasped, face glowing with pride. “What are you doing, scaring me like that? This is wonderful news... the best! Why would I be unhappy?”

“It’s... the timing,” she sighed. “The Governor and her healthcare committee only had two days available to meet with us.... both during the week we were supposed to be on our cruise.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, baby. I know how much we’ve been looking forward to it... but this project is so important and,” she stopped when she saw his face fall. “... and I supposed I can bring someone else up to speed and let them take the meeting. It’s just...”

“Oh, No!” he interrupted, taking her hand. “Baby girl, you worked your ass off on that proposal, and I’m so proud of you! No way are you handing all your hard work over to someone else at this stage. Besides, no one believes in it as much as you – and it’s too important. You have to be there. We’ll go on a cruise another time.”

Casey glanced at him with a playful smirk. “Did you put cancellation insurance on the trip like I told you to?”

The mischievous gleam in his eyes answered her before he did. “Have I told you how proud I am of you? And how absolutely beautiful you look today?”

“So, that’s a no on the insurance,” Casey laughed.

“I don’t care. We’ll lose the money. Or I’ll see if we can transfer the trip to someone else.”

“But it’s with your old Hopkins friends! I don’t want you to miss out, so I have the perfect solution. Ethan only declined so we could go together. But, if I can’t go, I can hold down the Diagnostic Team with Harper and Baz, and Ethan can go with you.”

“Uhm, no.”

“Uhm, yes. I already called the cruise line. They said we could transfer the ticket to his name. Plus, it would be nice for you to see your old friends together without your old ball and chain there.”

His lips pursed and he gave her with a reprimanding stare. “When have I ever referred to you as my ball and chain!”

“I’m teasing,” she reassured. “But come on, tell me it wouldn’t be fun for you and Ethan to go on a trip with your old med school friends? As much as I’ll miss you, it’s not such a terrible outcome.”

“It’s not terrible,” he groaned. “But I wanted a little romantic getaway with my wife, too. Ethan is no use to me there.”

“True. But you can cancel the romantic suite with the jacuzzi and change to a standard room, but go! Sammy and I will be fine, you get some friend time and will be back before you know it. All we need to do is get Ethan to agree. What do you say?”

“One condition. I get to Zoom in for your presentation. No way I’m going to miss watching my wife kicking ass.”

“Oh, but Hon,” she grinned, slipping into his arms and playfully toying with the lapels on his lab coat. “But then you’ll be all turned on and so far away... is that a good idea?”

“Sure is. Imagine how worked up we’ll be for the reunion when I get back,” he winked.

“So, then it’s a deal?”

“As long as Ethan’s on board, it’s a deal.”

~~~~~

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Ethan scowled.

Tobias turned to Casey. “See, what did I tell you?”

“Ethan, you can stop pretending you don’t like Tobias. You were our best man. You’re Sammy’s godfather. You practically live at our house on your days off....”

“That’s just to see Samantha,” he interrupted.

“You’re so full of shit!” Casey joked. “I know being curmudgeonly is your brand, but shut up and go! Are you afraid I’ll destroy the DT while you’re gone?”

“No,” Ethan insisted. “It’s not like I’m leaving Carrick in charge, for God’s sake.”

“Well, technically, you are,” Tobias teased. “She is Casey Carrick now, remember?”

“Yeah, the poor thing,” Ethan scowled. “But you know what I meant!”

“Come on,” Tobias cajoled. “It’s been a long time since you and I spent with the old crew. As much as I’d rather be with Casey than you, and, frankly, as much as they’d rather be with Casey than you... it’ll still be fun.”

Ethan’s expression softened as he stared into the distance. “We did have some fun times together in the past.”

“Sure as hell did,” Tobias agreed.

“And you don’t mind?” Ethan asked Casey.

“It was my idea! I’d love to be there, but this presentation is too important to me. Vivian promised she’ll help me with Sammy, and I’d be happy to know you two clowns are off having fun.”

“Sounds like you have it all worked out,” Ethan replied.

Tobias reached over and poked his friend in the arm. “So, is that a yes?”

“I may live to regret this, but fine. I’ll go.”

“Yey!!!” Casey clapped.

“See that,” Ethan smirked. “She’s already happy to get rid of you.”

“Shit!” Tobias laughed, “I’m shocked it took this long for that to happen.”

“Oh, God,” Casey rolled her eyes. “Just promise me you won’t push each other overboard.”

“No promises, babe. If he’s gone, one of us is up for a promotion.”

“Now, that’s premeditated.”

Casey shook her head. “I have a feeling I may live to regret this.”

Part 2

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Other tags in Reblog

[stop-saying-tootsie]

anyways figured i should give a life update bc im not sure i ever explained why exactly im in ireland and im hoping to use this app slightly more so let’s get to it!!

when i first created this account, i was 18, had just started college, and was so deep in the closet that i wasn’t even out to myself. i don’t want to dwell too much on those times because i was so truly unhappy with myself it’s a miracle i stuck it out, but i am obviously very grateful that i did :)

- i’m now 21, have had my name legally changed, had top surgery almost a year ago, been on testosterone for over 2 years, and am currently working on getting my gender marker changed (expediting it for. no reason in particular)

- my family calls me by my name! mostly! something i wouldn’t have ever ever dreamed of, and still feels surreal every time

- i’m just over a month shy of graduating and being a certified teacher, which also feels very strange considering i am in fact 17 in my head

- i passed my certification exams first try and actually did very well (thank fuck because it was about $400 worth of tests)

- to finish my degree, i’m teaching in ireland!! i’ve been here for a month now, working at a local primary school and traveling during my free time, and it is GRAND (i do get very homesick so i’m not sure moving abroad for a prolonged period of time will ever be in the cards for me but again for. no reason in particular i am still considering). i work with 4th class and every single kid tries to give me a high five in the hall its a traffic nightmare and the teachers hate me for it

- i saw glass animals in dublin and got barricade??? so drew and i are basically married

- i met a long time internet friend (nearly 7 years) in manchester last week and it was truly marvelous. he, his girlfriend, and i have all transitioned during that time, so it felt very profound to sit on their carpet and carve fruit and drink wine and realize how much we’ve overcome and how truly happy we are despite everything

- my niece turned 1 today and has brought so much joy to everyone’s lives (gutted i’m not there but i had a donut in her honor)

- got the ghosts brought to life book wahoo

- once i’m back in the states ill be moving home and close to family for the foreseeable future, and will get to chill until i start teaching in july-ish!! i look forward to feeling like a normal human briefly

i think that’s all i can think up for now! of course i’m worried about the state of my country and my future but right now i feel loved and important to the people i care about and that’s enough

hopefully it’s not a year before i actually post again, love u lot

[lurkingshan]

Minato’s Laundromat… it feels like a fever dream… why did they decide on this plot point?? i was honestly so shocked bc it felt like a joke

I don’t know why they decided to do this but I gotta be honest, anon, I hate it. 😭

For real though, if I may be overly earnest for a moment. I’m unhappy about this turn in the story for a few reasons:

Minato’s Laundromat has always been firmly grounded in mundane reality. The sudden amnesia trope feels absurdly out of place here and immediately broke the rules of its storytelling universe as I have come to understand them across two seasons.

The reason I was excited about this season is because it is going beyond the season 1 question of whether they would get together, and instead interrogating how these two would stay together. We have spent nine weeks in this second season watching them slowly come to understand each other better and find a way to meet each other’s needs, resulting in Minato finally making the small but meaningful gestures Shin has been begging for. That this trope is being deployed as a device to immediately reset that hard earned relationship development we’ve spent weeks building to is especially grating.

Hand in hand with that, Minato has been on a long, frustrating, often hard to watch journey to overcome his internalized homophobia and become a decent partner for Shin who can communicate his emotions and reciprocate his affections. He was getting there, and in this episode he finally seems to have had some kind of breakthrough, and now it feels like the narrative is punishing him for that. It sends a very strange message, and even as I recognize they may use the amnesia to push him even further into confidently declaring his devotion to Shin, I don’t want an artificial drama event used as a cheap device to accelerate his growth. I want to finish the painstaking journey we’ve been on with him this entire time.

The decision to immediately undercut any catharsis or satisfaction the audience might have gotten from Minato finally expressing his feelings properly is just plain mean, both to the characters and the audience. As @bengiyo has said, this season has been all tension and no release, and the moment they finally gave us a small bit of release, they immediately yanked it back and ratcheted up the tension tenfold. It doesn’t feel fun or satisfying as a viewer.

So yeah, I did not like it! I will be tuning in next week to see where they take this twist in the story and whether it feels worthwhile in the end, but for now? I’m one unhappy blogger.

[wisteria-html]

Are fathers usually terrible? I don't have many other people around me to compare to, so I thought I might pose it to others.

🐦

Hm. Ok.

The question I’m pondering is how honest to be on here. I’m a part of a whole story now, I have more eyes on me than I have in a while. Yes I used to be big on TikTok, but that was a character. A persona. This is just me: my opinions, my beliefs, my thoughts, regardless of the situation. Even now that I’m in the croakerverse, I want to be clear that I am still myself. This post is all me too, all of this is true.

Don’t read if you’re sensitive to abuse, nothing is explicit and he wasn’t awful, but I do talk about some more serious stuff.

My dad wasn’t great. He was shitty to my mom, he hit my sister a couple times, and I was JUST LIKE HIM. Not in that I was abusive, I wasn’t, but he saw me as a mini him. We’re very alike. We look alike, have similar work ethics, and we’ve always had similar interests.

When I was a kid he would read me Stephen King. As early as four or five years old. Scaring me was one of his favorite things in the world, I never saw him laugh harder. It got to the point where my mom was scared to walk around corners for fear he would jump out. He never hurt her physically, but he did love to see her scared.

When I was eleven years old I told him I wanted to end my life. I begged him not to tell my mom… and he didn’t. My mom was the one taking care of us, she made all the doctor’s appointments, and he hid it from her. Years later I learned he had started being suicidal at eleven too. I get it from him.

When I was in middle school we started running together. It took me years to call it physical abuse. He never touched me, but he would withhold water for miles. If I couldn’t make the pace he wanted he would stop talking to me. Once I got heat exhaustion because he wouldn’t let me stop running before we hit our goal, and then he left me on the side of the road half unconscious while he got the car. Once I threw up and he congratulated me for pushing myself so hard. Once I had to stop and he left me in the middle of the National Mall because “He wasn’t gonna stop his workout just because I was too weak to finish.” I used to fantasize about letting a car run over my foot or breaking my own leg because I knew it would be the only way it would end. When I told him I was done he barely spoke to me for a week. I was twelve years old, thirteen at most.

When my mom learned how bad things were for my sister and I, she ended things. She had been unhappy for a while and stayed for our benefit. I’m not going to get into my sister’s story, it’s not mine to tell, but know that she’s been completely no contact for years. I don’t know if she’ll ever speak to him again.

After they split I tried to go to therapy with my dad. I told him everything he did to hurt me, how seeing scary movies with him was awful because he would make fun of me for days over me jumping at a trailer to cover up how afraid he was of the movie itself. How I hated it and it wasn’t worth it. A year later he asked to take me to see a horror movie, and when I asked if he remembered why the answer was no he said “Oh yeah, you don’t like me making fun of you for being scared.” He never cared or tried to change, not really.

During COVID, he couldn’t come over anymore. I was free. I had been so stuck fawning for him that I never stopped to consider not seeing him. The second I couldn’t see him? Things got so much better so quickly.

We didn’t talk for about two years. Last year he came over to get something and I saw him. I realized he didn’t scare me anymore. I loved him but I didn’t see him as a father. I didn’t care what he thought. We started seeing movies, then musicals. We see each other once a month at most. It’s fun but also exhausting. I don’t like telling him about my life.

When I get married someday, he will be invited but he will not walk me down the aisle. We will not dance. I love him but I also hate him, sometimes.

My relationship with my dad is complicated. The fact that he’s in the military doesn’t help. I’m happy he’s gone and part of me mourns the father child relationship I wish we could’ve had. Seeing him makes really sad sometimes. I think I keep talking to him because I feel like I should, not because it makes me happy. It doesn’t make me unhappy, I just… don’t care. And I shouldn’t not care about my own father.

I don’t know if this answers your question. Honestly I might delete it tomorrow, I’m pretty exhausted and there’s a fair chance I’ll regret posting this. I’ve never told anyone but close friends and my therapist. But I hope this did something for you.

[anarchist-musings]

I’m so sick of the corporate charade. It’s the most insidiously toxic work culture that we’ve been forced to accept as totally normal and okay because no other kinds of jobs pay us enough to survive in this capitalist hellscape.

I have like 5 managers and they’re all organized in a hierarchical structure. It’s the exec at the very top (who I never, ever interact with, let alone work with) that makes the final decision on whether I get a raise and how much it’ll be.

They organize it like this so if you’re unhappy with your salary, you have absolutely nobody to complain to. If you talk to your immediate manager, they’ll just run their mouth off about how they totally agree with you but it’s ultimately the top dog’s decision in the end.

This kind of structure also makes it impossible to organize because everyone and their dog is either a middle manager or trying to become one, so they have absolutely no stake in rocking the boat.

I just got especially insenced about it this week because one of my many managers is pregnant and one of my other managers sent out an email asking us to send a congrats message and a “contribution” that they’ll put together and send to her. I’m just like… how bout fucking no. She already gets paid way more than me. Why the fuck should I have to give her money ever, at all. But of course the pressure to contribute is huge because whether or not these people like you has a direct impact on your goddamn livelihood.

So sick of this bullshit economic system.

[bisluthq]

https://www.tumblr.com/bisluthq/769334767003074560/yes-i-know-taylors-main-issue-wasnt-that-joe?source=share

I actually agree with the anon that it is a symptom of a much larger issue. But the issue in question is not about their relationship. The issue is how society works nowadays and the importance given to social media. And the hunger to live through other people's lifes, because ours suck. People nowadays seem to forget that there is actually a thing called real life, where you interact with people. Let's be honest here: the reason we want famous people to shout out their significant other and post cute Instagram photos and love captions is for our sake. Because it's so cute 😍 and omg I ship them 😍 and i don't have a boyfriend so help me believe love exists 😍

In reality, the person that should hear those things is your partner. And maybe their friends and family if they really love the public compliments. Posting it on social media is more fanservice to give people what they want that anything. Not everyone needs to do that. If I want to write a really romantic poem to someone I can do it and give it to her. Posting it for the whole world to read is not necessary. But for today's standards, if you don't do that kind of stuff on social media that means you are the coldest rock who hates your partner.

Actually what I observe is the couples who actually post more together and do all the happy circus are the ones that aren't at all that happy behind the scenes. Then they breakup and people are like omg but like how, they were literally just posting i love you to each other last week

I hear you and while I don’t disagree entirely, I don’t think it’s as deep necessarily. I don’t think people follow celebs purely because our own lives suck and I don’t think it’s something people started being interested in recently. People have, since the 1700s at least in the west, across their colonies, the Russian Empire and the Ottoman Empire - I don’t know about other places because I’m not as familiar with those histories - been interested in celebrities. A lot of the time these were the royals, but also poets/writers and their wives and mistresses and very much actors and actresses too who often wound up involved with the royals to some degree and many of whom wrote. I think it’s escapism. People are interested in pretty people who seem to have interesting and glamorous lives, not because they’re unhappy but because it’s interesting. With social media though, a lot MORE people have become famous. Now we’re interested in like influencers and shit too and I think it largely comes from the same sort of interested place.

I don’t think couples who post a lot are necessarily unhappy, I do think they like external validation for stuff though (which is okay) and I think it’s unrelated to whether or not they’re happy. It’s just a whole separate issue. Some people like having that out there, some people don’t. Whether or not they’re a good partner is another story though.

and like I say, in a weird way the internet made all of us capable of being little celebs in a manner that historically wasn’t possible lol. So we’re now interested in not only celebs (which as a society we’ve been interested in for a very long time), but in our friends and casual friends to a greater degree and to influencers who are more or less regular people but who share their lives with us.

some people like sharing a lot of content. Some people don’t. I’ve got like Instagram friends - obviously not close friends but I’m getting to why - who stun me when they suddenly post their wedding because I’ve not seen them share a partner before. I’ve got other Instagram friends who share so much about their lives that I feel like we ARE close friends even though I’ve like not hung out with them in years or in some cases only ever met them a few times. People curate their social media in accordance with what makes THEM happy and it’s not usually that deep. For celebs it’s a bit deeper because they talk to publicists about strategy and such but most people want it to reflect what they want to do and unless they have a really shitty team who bullies them then like they’ll help the person be authentic to who they are (posting a lot or a little as a result). Idk man. I just don’t think it’s got anything to do with anything.

In the Joe and Taylor example, had he been posting regularly I still wouldn’t have been shocked if she’d said she felt unloved. She talked about how he can be withdrawn and distant from Rep onwards. That’s who he is. He could’ve been that, and liked making social media content, and still been withdrawn and difficult to live with when the rose colored glasses had faded.

also Travis hasn’t yet posted Taylor. He doesn’t even follow her. He talks about her in his podcast, which is a thing he makes and enjoys making, and presumably she listens to all of it to be supportive and because he loves making his thing, but yeah. I don’t think she feels more loved because he makes a podcast. I think she feels more loved rn because he makes her feel like a priority.

also I will say not feeling like a priority is a common problem in longterm relationships. It takes work to make sure you don’t make the other person feel unimportant to you and sometimes idk maybe that person *has* become unimportant to you lol.

[deanstudies101]

4x17, It's a Terrible Life

Critical theory: Fate, destiny, and (de)constructed masculinities. Sexuality. Little outfits.

Discussion point/question(s): What do we think of this examination of their perspectives on their real lives / job satisfaction? [I didn’t even have to ask this one, we just discussed it.] 

Discussion: 

Obsessed with this. 

We had a discussion about the fact that the two named victims were Ian and Paul and whether that was a Vampire Diaries reference. We decided the timings do kinda line up and it is possible, but I guess we’ll never know. 

Kai doesn’t think Dean likes hunting. He likes saving people, because that’s how he thinks his life has worth… but is that the same as hunting? Iga disagrees. Here we see him liberated from shitty things like a crappy father and his upbringing, and he still found hunting, and he liked it. However, he was still hesitant to leave that life, much more so than Sam… or was he covering up his feelings until he had time to process them? He wanted to process it alone. [I would say Sam is generally more impulsive than Dean. And that was quite impulsive.] Sam kind of had an advantage here, though. He was still having the dreams, he literally has a physical connection via the demon blood, whereas Dean doesn’t have psychic powers, any physical connection, it’s just in his soul. It’s what he’s drawn to, what he’s destined to do. [How are we feeling about the concept of destiny, and the fact that this episode confirms it somewhat?] Dean had a happy life here, he was successful, he was vibing, doing his little juice cleanse. He was surface happy at least. He wasn’t depressed, but he wasn’t fulfilled. As soon as he finds hunting he quits his job the same day. Kai, also he likes project runway. [But we’ve just been told—so far it’s always been “they’re hunters because they were raised that way”, and now it’s “they’re hunters because they’re destined to be, there is something inherent about them that makes them hunters."] 

Could be argued that it’s reflex, it’s muscle memory. They must have had some deep memories. It’s not necessarily destiny, just his soul wants to be a hunter, that’s what he’s destined to do, that’s what deep down he wants. Kai thinks it’s almost the reverse. Whatever being put destiny in place made it so that Dean becomes a hunter, but his own free will doesn’t come into that—he’s been put on this path, and he resented it, but now he’s choosing it. Iga, this is just showing him that this is what he would chose if he had the option. Kai thinks he’s still doing it because he has to, not because he wants to, he’s drawn to it. Iga, “so you think Dean has no free will?” Kai, “Yeah.” Iga, “Damn.” Kai, “He’s trapped in the narrative.” 

Iga thinks Sam is trapped in the narrative/has no free will—he was very quick to come back to hunting—whereas Dean considers it, he takes some time to think about it. Sam doesn’t think as much about it.

Kai thinks neither of them have free will, it’s just Sam doesn’t have as much of a problem with the path he’s on. Dean is burnt out. 

This was a very smart move by the angels. They thought it was demons, tricksters. But it’s just the angels trying to prove to Dean it’s what he wants. [They want Dean back on task. And they did a damn good job.] The issue isn’t Dean’s destiny, Dean being a hunter, he just needs a holiday every now and then. And that’s from his upbringing, his trauma, his father, Sam pushing him into jobs. Iga, “Dean needs a restructuring. He doesn’t need to quit his job. Maybe a four day work week.” [That feels a little pointed :( ] [But it’s true. He does need a holiday. He deserves a holiday.] What mattered to him, what gave him pause, was the details. They money, the motels, the food. That’s what’s making him unhappy. He needs a home to come back to, a family, connections, comfort. He wants to feel safe enough to go on a juice cleanse. But he can’t go on a juice cleanse, because he doesn’t know when his next meal is gonna be. That’s how he doesn’t want to live. Iga’s hot take: it’s not the job, it’s the rest of it. The lack of stability. [We’ve talked before about how the other hunters live compared to how Dean and Sam live.] They have houses. They have somewhere to go back to and decompress. Society if they had a house. Dean’s burnout isn't to do with being a hunter, it’s to do with his life. The job would still be difficult, but it would help. He would feel selfish for taking the time out, but he needs it. He would feel better, but he can’t. He’s not a person, he’s an instrument. Instruments can’t get tired. [The dehumanisation is insane. And I hate to say it, it doesn’t get better. Or, not for a long time, and it’s up and down.] 

Sam didn’t have to break the phone, he could’ve just quit. [Displacement.] Interesting that Dean is the aggressive asshole. He just handed in his notice. [Sam went postal on a phone.] 

[What I would like to discuss is the fact that Dean’s gay. Queer. Like. Dean is bi in my heart we all know this. But that was a homosexual.] The bag. It’s not giving business man. It’s giving… [The outfits. THe hair.] The stripy shirt. The juice cleanse. [The car.] The rice milk. [The bitchy lil facial expressions.] 

The filter was interesting. Obsessed. The moment it lifts is hilarious. 

The workplace feels horrible, torturous and it’s… just a real workplace. 

The Ghostfacers have actual skills now, they do actual ghost hunting now. The Winchesters taught them stuff. 

[Their surnames in this—Smith and Wesson—are a reference to another gun manufacturer.] Huh. Fun.