#while me my grandma my mom and zoe talked about what we know

[xsweetcatastrophe]

You Broke Me First

Part 22

18+ minors DNI

Zoe tried to take her time on the stairs as she made her way down, but Cillian said he was going to kick the back of her knees and roll her down the stairs if she moved any slower. She considered it, thinking it's probably less painful then dealing with her mother.

"Your funeral," she mumbled to him. "remember, don't take anything she says to heart, she's rude and she doesn't even know it" she reminded him.

"would you relax? Do you know some of the people i worked with?" Cillian whispered back.

Zoe made her way to the kitchen where she found her mom by the island unpacking groceries. In the background, she could see Jen and her husband, John, sitting on the patio while Sophie was running around on the lawn.

"Look who decided to visit her mother!" Zoe's mom said, holding out her arms and making her way towards her. Zoe hugged her back, begrudgingly.

"Hey mom... you look great" Zoe said, pulling back and looking at her.

Zoe's mom always looked put together. She didn't own a single pair of sweatpants or a sweatshirt. Her blonde hair was blown out, curling slightly below her shoulders. She wore light blue linen pants and a white linen shirt with sandals and gold jewelry.

"And is this the man who's been keeping you away from me?" She said, turning to Cillian.

"No mom, I do that all on my own," Zoe said. "This is Cillian"

"Simone. Nice to meet you honey," Zoe's mom said, giving him a hug.

"Great to meet you too. Thanks so much for letting us stay and having me," Cillian replied.

"Oh, please. The more the merrier. I have this house and none of my kids visit me." She said, waving her hand around. "This one can't stand me so much she moved to the other side of the country for crying out loud!" She said, laughing. Cillian laughed back. Zoe looked between the two of them then shot Cillian a look. It'll be a cold day in hell before her mother and Cillian get along and form an alliance in front of her.

"Grandma!!!" Sophie said, running into the kitchen.

"Hi Angel," Zoe's mom said, leaning down to give her a hug. "But what did I tell you? Don't call me grandma. Now, can the almost birthday girl help me with the groceries?" She said, picking her up and placing her on the counter.

"Hey Ma," Jen said walking into the kitchen as well with John. John walked over to Cillian and shook his hand, keeping the introduction short and sweet, as it should be. John was always neutral and didn't get involved in any family drama. He knew the women in this family have stuff they need to talk through and he wasn't about to get in the middle of it. He would keep his distance and remove himself and leave the room if it started getting loud or an argument started ... and he would pray if they were to ever have a second child, it would be a boy.

"I think I'll do a pesto sauce tonight? Is that okay with everyone?" Zoe's mom announced. Everyone nodded their head.

"Zoe, why don't you go freshen up. You look tired," She continued.

Zoe's jaw tightened and her nostrils flared. "Thanks, mom. Maybe I will. Come on, Cill" She said, grabbing Cillian's arm and pulling him out of the room. She heard him stifle a laugh as they made it to the stairs.

They made it to the bedroom and she shoved him in and closed the door behind her.

"Don't you think for one second you're gonna gang up with her this weekend," She said, pointing her finger at him.

Cillian let out the laugh he was holding in. "You just gotta laugh, don't take it so seriously." He said.

"No I don't have to laugh. I wish it was sunday already and we were flying back," She said, flopping onto the bed.

"I'm sorry. How can I help?" Cillian said, sitting on the bed next to you.

"I don't know. But I think i'm gonna take a shower," She said, sitting up and heading towards the bathroom. "I'll just be a few minutes."

Cillian laid back on the bed and had every intention of shutting his eyes for a few minutes. Zoe had left the bathroom door opened so he heard her turn the water on. He opened one eye and could only see her shadow, she was too far into the bathroom off to the side for him to see her full figure.

But he DID see her throw her clothes onto the ground. Including her bra. Right in his eyesight.

Cillian lifted one eyebrow staring at her bra as he felt the blood rush to his cock. Something about seeing her bra on the floor, like the first night he ever stepped foot in her apartment, turned him on. He now heard her pull back the shower door and step inside. He sat up on his elbows and weighed his options. The bedroom door was closed... he got off the bed and made his way towards it, locking the door. He stepped to the window and looked into the yard, where he could see Zoe's mom, sister, brother in law and niece outside. He looked again towards the bathroom and smirked as he took his shirt off.

Zoe was in the shower letting the water run down her back, relaxing her muscles. She wonder how hot the water she could make it without giving her serious burns. The water was already pretty hot and the steam was thick in the bathroom. She could stay in here forever.

Suddenly she felt hands on her hips.

"What the -" She yelled, spinning around. Cillian quickly covered his mouth with his hand. She looked up at him, as the water bounced off of his now wet body, hair plastered to his forehead.

"Can you be quiet for me?" he said lowly. He could feel her smirk under his hand as she nodded.

"yea? You think so?" He replied, removing his hand and moving it down her jaw, neck, breast, stomach, landing right above where she wanted him the most. "I think I should test that theory" He said, diving into her folds.

Zoe sucked in a breath and bit her lip. He glared at her. "You know what biting that lip does to me," He said, kissing her roughly. She kissed him back, grabbing him and tangling her hands in his short hair. She took one hand and dragged it down to his cock, stroking it slowly. He groaned into her mouth.

"You have no idea what you do to me," He said, pulling away slightly from her lips. She smiled at him and leaned forward, kissing him again as she hooked her leg over her hip. Cillian grabbed it with his free hand and held it in place.

"We gotta make this quick, it's so hot in here I'm gonna pass out - how fucking hot do you have the fuckin' water in here?" Cillian said, breaking away to look at the faucet.

Zoe laughed and pulled his face towards him. "Are you gonna fuck me or are you gonna take the temperature?" she said, biting her lip.

Cillian's eyes went dark as he grabbed his cock and lined himself up with her, slowly pushing into her. Zoe threw her head back against the wall, feeling him stretch her out. He finally bottomed out and stayed there for a couple seconds, placing kisses on her neck and chest.

He finally started moving, a few slow strokes then faster, hitting just the right spot in Zoe to make her moan entirely too loud.

"Shhh" Cillian said, not slowing down. "What did I say? Do I need to cover your mouth?"

Before Zoe could even control it, she let out a moan. Cillian smiled.

"You would like that, don't you?" He said, hand coming back up to cover her mouth. "What my girl wants, my girl gets."

My girl.

Cillian knew just what to say to set her off.

"Please" she mumbled behind his hand.

"Please what?" He said, still fucking up into her. The angle was too perfect for both of them.

"Is my girl going to cum?" He asked.

there it is again; my girl.

Zoe felt her muscles tighten around him at him calling her his. Truth is, it did turn her on. Cillian groaned. "that's it, keep squeezing me like that," He said, fucking her harder as a hand slipped between her and rubbed her clit.

With the added pressure, Zoe couldn't hold back any longer. She squeezed her eyes shut as her orgasm hit her, with a muffled moan behind Cillian's hand.

"Fuck," Cillian moaned, thrusts now starting to falter. "You feel so good cumnming on my cock... going to fill you up... you feel so good baby... He said, chasing his release.

Zoe's hip fell from being hooked around his hip, and she tried to lift it but her legs felt like jello. With Cillian's now free hand, he held it against his hip as he came a groan, spilling inside of her. Forehead pressed against hers, breathing heavy as he came down from his high. He removed his hand from her mouth and placed both hands on her hips instead as he tried to get his breathing back to normal. She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder.

There was a couple minutes of complete silence while they held each other; only sounds were the shower water and their labored breathing filled the room. There was a lingering feeling Zoe felt, and it was eating at her inside. She wanted to express how happy she was with him, how safe and comfortable she felt... but it was too soon. She couldn't say that. And there's no way he could feel it either... right?

Cillian finally pulled away and looked at her, wiping her cheek with his thumb.

"You are so.. so perfect Zoe." He whispered. "... But these showers are too fucking hot" he added.

Zoe laughed. "Wanna take a cold shower with me then?"

"I'm gonna have to. I can't tell what's sweat and what's water at this point. I also might have to sit before I pass out"

"okay dramatic" Zoe said, laughing.

After Zoe and Cillian showered (for real this time) and got dressed, they made their way downstairs to the kitchen. Zoe's mom and Sophie were at the kitchen island, mixing the penne and pesto sauce together. Sophie was sitting on the island countertop with a wooden spoon mixing, and Zoe's mom was supervising.

"ZoZo, i picked-ed I picked the basil myself" Sophie said upon seeing her enter the room.

"You did??? Big girl cooking dinner for us!" She said, walking over and giving her a squeeze.

"Yea, her and mom went outside to pick the basil from the garden and then I got assigned the job of picking out all grass Sophie picked instead of basil... so, you're welcome everybody" Jen said, butting in. She grabbed a bottle of wine and bunch of glasses, offering Cillian one and pouring it for him.

"She did a great job, let's all go sit down," Zoe's mom said, bringing the big bowl to the table and placing it in the center. They all gathered around the table and took their seats. Zoe took the initiative to start serving people. She grabbed her mother's plate before her mom grabbed her wrist. "Not a lot, Zoe, I'm taking pilates classes. I can't have too many carbs."

Zoe stared at her. "Then why did you make so much?"

"Because you eat enough for all of us, and I knew you're not eating right over wherever the hell you are," She replied, waving her hand as if she couldn't be bothered.

"I what??!" Zoe exclaimed, setting the spoon down.

Cillian froze, Jen audibly sighed, John took a large gulp of his wine, and Sophie continued to bang her fork on the plate.

"What? What did I say? I'm your mother, I just hope you're eating enough. You used to eat 3 bowls of pasta when you were growing up for dinner. I just want to make sure you eat. Pardon me for caring," Her mom replied.

"You know mom, you have a funny way of showing you care," Zoe said, picking the spoon back up and started serving everyone.

"I served myself last to make sure everyone else got their servings, since, you know, I eat all the food apparently," Zoe said, finishing up her portion and sitting back down.

"Cillian, how's filming Peaky?" Jen said, trying to change the subject.

"What's Peaky?" Zoe's mom chimed in.

"It's a fucking good show, that's what it is. How long you keepin' the haircut?" John interjected.

CiIlian laughed. "For a couple more weeks, then I start the process of growing it out which is a pain,"

"I'm not a fan of your hair," Zoe's mom stated. Zoe shot a look at her mom. "Mom seriously?"

"Me neither, honestly" Cillian said, letting the comment roll off his back.

"My Husband used to love Netflix. I don't even know how to work the thing. I don't understand streaming. It's like cable, right?"

Zoe groaned. "Can this not be a IT consultation and just have it be dinner?"

"Does Esme ever come back with John's kids?" John asked.

"How often do you have to shave the sides?" Jen interjected, still stuck on the topic of the haircut.

"Peaky, Peaky, Peaky," Sophie said out loud to herself as she played with her pasta.

"But does the streaming have a TV guide? how do I know when shows are on? Do I have to pay for this?" Zoe's mom added.

"OKAY LETS PLAY THE QUIET GAME" Zoe yelled, hoping for peaceful rest of the dinner.

Zoe woke up and rolled over, feeling Cillian's arm draped over her. She looked at the time; 5am.

They had survived the rest of the dinner, and Cillian handed the interrogation - i mean, questions, perfectly. He was calm, patient, and even explained streaming vs cable to Zoe's mom. Will she retain the information? probably not, but let's see how calm and cool Cillian is the 45th time she asks how it works in a week span.

Zoe laid on her back, then turned her head to the window. She was wide awake, and she wanted to do something she hasn't done in a long time... not since the last time she was back home.

Not since her father died.

"Cillian," Zoe whispered, poking him in the side. He grunted, but eyes remained closed.

"Cillian, wake up," she said louder, pushing him harder. He groaned, and opened his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, get up, I'm taking you somewhere," Zoe said, pulling back the covers.

"What?" Cillian mumbled, confused.

"Get. Up. let's go, we don't have much time," She said, pulling on a hoodie.

Cillian sat up and stretched. "Where are we going? at 5am?" Cillian said, rubbing his hand through his hair.

"Just put on a hoodie and grab your shoes, let's go lets go!!!" Zoe said excitedly, grabbing a blanket from her closet.

"Please don't take me to that diner, it's 5am I reserve fried foods for at least 8am" Cillian groaned, getting out of bed and pulling a hoodie from his suitcase, and slipping his sneakers on.

The two of them made their way down the stairs, through the kitchen, and into the backyard. They walked to the far end, and unlocked the gate and made their way onto the beach. It wasn't pitch black, but it was still pretty dark.

Zoe took her shoes off and continued walking onto the sand. Cillian wasn't walking as fast as her as he was still waking up.

"Come on, hurry up!!" She yelled softly behind her.

"You know, this isn't what I had in mind when I said I liked waking up next to you. This is torture, I like sleep" Cillian replied, talking through a yawn. "Is this what it's going to be like back at home? You waking me up and dragging me somewhere? Is this some sort of initiation? Does Scout have to do this too-"

"You're talking too much for 5am," Zoe cut in, finally stopping and laying down the blanket. After smoothing it out, she sat down in the middle and left space for him next to her. Cillian plopped down next to her, laying down on his back while she stayed sitting up right. "Whoever said sleeping on the beach is romantic is a liar. Sand is uncomfortable," He said, adjusting.

"You've been awake for 10 minutes and you'e done nothing but complain, but sit up, it's happening!!" Zoe said, hitting his leg.

Confused, Cillian sat up and followed her gaze out to the ocean.

"Woahhhh...." Cillian said, staring out at the sky that was now painted an orange/purple color. In the distance, the sun starting to rise just at the horizon.

Cillian adjusted himself, and sat behind Zoe with his legs on either side of her. She leaned back into him and he wrapped his arms around her, placing his head on her shoulders. She leaned her head against his, not saying a word. She couldn't be closer to him and yet, she wanted to be. She didn't want an inch of her body untouched by him.

"Beautiful," Cillian said softly, right next to Zoe's ear.

Zoe never felt more comfortable sitting in silence with someone. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I used to do this with... my dad. He would do 48 hour shifts sometimes at the firehouse... he would come home around this time. He would wake me up, bundle me in his arms and walk me down to the beach and we would watch it together. I haven't done it in such a long time... not since he died."

"Keep doing it," Cillian said. "Don't be afraid to do things you used to do with him because you might get sad. Things like this keeps him alive. Talking about him, sharing stories with people... it makes you feel better. Because then you tell the funny stories and you laugh. And other people laugh with you. And then suddenly your day and other people's days are a little brighter because they laughed over something he did. that's how you keep a memory of someone alive," Cillian said, squeezing her tigher.

Zoe smiled, a teardrop quietly trailing down her cheek.

"This is my favorite place to be," Zoe said. "And I wanted to take you here. I wanted you to see it."

Cillian smiled. "I'd go anywhere with you. Thank you," He said, kissing her temple.

"I wish I could freeze time right here. I want to stay like this forever. Everything quiet. Everything good. Like a clean slate. But then once the sun is up life goes back to normal. It's these quick couple of minutes it's like watching everything reset and restart. God, I want to be this happy forever," Zoe said, leaning back further into Cillian and closing her eyes.

"You will be, babe. I promise."

Zoe chucked. "Yea, we'll see."

After about 15 minutes, the sun was up and people were staring to join them on the beach. Many of them going for a morning run, some fishing, and some just walking.

"We should head back," Cillian said, stretching. Zoe groaned. "I don't wannaaaaa" she whined, laying back onto the sand.

"We have a birthday party to attend. the social event of the year, and I have no clue what I'm wearing," Cillian joked, standing up and holding out his hand her. Zoe took it and stood up, leaning into him and giving him a kiss.

"Ugh, fine. Let's go" She groaned, hand in and started the walk back, hand in hand with him.

"Come on, we'll be alright," He said, squeezing her hand.

Zoe took in her surroundings as she walked home with him. If you would of told her a year ago she'd be walking home from watching the sunrise on the beach with Cillian Murphy, something she doesn't do with ANYONE, she would never believe you. And, for the first time in years, she felt a lot calmer about being home. She felt safe... with him next to her. She felt like she could get through anything with him by her side. That's all she wanted, was to be next to him. All of these new feelings she felt - all the good ones - were because of him.

"yea..." She replied to him, smiling. "Maybe we will. We'll be alright."

tags: @lau219 @shopgirl6us @borntodiemp3

[ealouis]

7/27 vent pt 1

[radishaur]

hi can I also request a Fire Lord Zuko x reader based on a scene from Mulan where she asked Shang “would you like to stay for dinner?” and then her grandmother shouted “would you like to stay forever?” except the grandmother is Uncle Iroh in this story and Zuko is the one who asked her the question (I have the link for this scene from the Mulan movie and I can send it to you via message if you don’t know which scene i’m talking about) Thank you!

OMG I would love to. Mulan is still one of my favorite Disney movies of all time. I’m so happy I got this request. I hope that I do it some justice!

In order for this to make sense I’m going to explain what happens previously to this scene in the fanfic. Basically, Y/N did what Mulan did, taking her father’s place in the war, except it’s taking his spot on Zuko’s ship. Zuko finds out etc, plot goes on as normal for the show, and then when Y/N returns home after helping defeat the Fire Lord, Zuko comes to find her.

(Also, I hope you don’t mind the small bisexual Zuko theme I threw in there. Because honestly Zuko gives off major bi vibes on his own in my opinion and so did Li Shang. He liked Mulan way before he found out he was actually a she.)

- Zoe

•••

Stay For Dinner (Zuko x Reader)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Part: 1/1

Summary: See Request

•••

Reader’s POV:

The cherry blossoms flittered in the quiet breeze that past by. I simply enjoyed the feeling of being under the tree with my father again after 3 long years. I knew he was probably furious with me, but I didn’t regret my decision.

“I’m sorry, father. I know you must be mad,” I said quietly, refusing to look at him.

He chuckled slightly which caused me to glance cautiously over at him. He smiled and took my hand in his.

“I’m not mad. In fact, I’m incredibly proud of you,” he said, his eyes filled with the love only a father could have.

“Y-You’re not?” I asked hesitantly.

“I was mad at first, but then I realized that you only did what you thought was right and stood up for what you believe in. You fulfilled your destiny and helped being peace to the Fire Nation. I just missed you dearly while you were gone,” he assured me, pulling me into a hug on the bench.

I hugged him back and allowed a smile to break out on my face.

“I missed you too,” I said softly.

•••

Zuko’s POV:

The carriage was quiet as we finally pulled up to the house. I grabbed the helmet off the seat next to me as I gathered all my courage. I looked up and saw the Gaang’s eye’s on me.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Katara assured me.

“Yea, she’s totally in love with you!” Sokka exclaimed, clapping his hand against my shoulder.

“I can feel your heart rate increasing by the second,” Toph teased before adding, “Don’t be so nervous.”

“Just be honest with her about your feelings,” Aang said with his signature smile.

I rolled my eyes and told them all to wait out here before coming to greet their friend. I wanted a moment alone with her to apologize and tell her how I felt.

I gripped the helmet tightly in my hands as I approached the house. It had a quiet beauty to it that I enjoyed as I slowly entered the courtyard. I saw two ladies bickering by an opening in the wall and cautiously approached them.

“Great. She brings home a sword. If you ask me, she should have brought home a man!” the older lady scoffed.

As if on cue, I cleared my throat to catch their attention.

“Excuse me. Does Y/N L/N live here?” I asked nervously.

Both women stared at me in shock before pointing through the opening. I thanked them as I walked towards where they had pointed.

“Woo! Sign me up for the next war,” I heard the older lady say.

I ignored her words as I scanned the area. There was a beautiful cherry blossom tree on top of a small hill. Under it stood who I knew from Fire Nation politics growing up to be Y/N’s father. I approached him as he noticed my presence.

“General, I-“ I began, only to see her walk out from behind him.

I was caught off guard by her sudden appearance and stumbled over my words.

“Y-Y/N!” I exclaimed in surprise.

She looked equally as shocked to see me. She stood beside her father and looked up at me expectantly, certainly waiting for an explanation as to what I was doing here.

“Uhhhh, you forgot your helmet!” I explained, holding it out to her before shaking my head and saying, “Uh w-well it’s actually...your helmet. I mean-”

I was cut off by Y/N stepping forward and lightly grabbing the helmet from my hands. She smiled up at me and it caused a swarm of butterflies to flutter in my stomach.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” she asked politely.

“Would you like to stay forever?” I heard her grandma call out.

She laughed and shook her head, shooting her grandma an amused look before looking back up at me. I blushed and smiled sheepishly.

“Dinner would be great,” I answered.

“Great, I-“ she began before getting cut off.

“Did you tell her already?” Aang called out.

I turned around to see Aang and the rest of them all standing through the wall’s opening. My face went red immediately and I furiously signaled for them to cut it out.

“Oh, we’re too early then. Sorry,” Aang said innocently.

“You guys!” she exclaimed happily, running over and giving them each a hug.

She turned around and looked at her family who were watching on in a mix of shock and amusement. Her father walked to her mother’s side as she smiled.

“I guess I should introduce everyone. Mom, Dad, Grandma, these are my friends I was telling you about,” she said, turning to start introducing us, “This is Aang, he’s the Avatar. This is Katara and Sokka, the Southern Water Tribe siblings. This is Toph, the greatest earthbender of all time. And this-“

“We know who he is,” your father interrupted.

She giggled slightly, realizing that they definitely knew who I was already.

“Right,” she said, sending a pleasant smile my way.

I waved awkwardly at her family, causing Sokka to snicker at my embarrassment. I shot him a glare as I walked down to introduce myself properly. I bowed in front of her family and they did the same.

“Prince Zuko,” I said politely, looking at the three of them with a smile.

“The future Fire Lord. It is an honor to have you at our home,” her father said before turning to Aang and bowing, “You as well, Avatar Aang.”

The Gaang went inside with Y/N’s family to help with dinner while I stayed behind with her. She brought me to sit next to her on the bench.

“So, what was it that you had to tell me?” she asked.

I took a deep breath before turning to face her. I grabbed her hand hesitantly and looked up to meet her gaze. Her E/C eyes were brimming with life as she looked at me.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you this for quite some time, but I...well at first I thought you were a man. Which was weird. And then I found out that you were actually a woman and I was really confused. B-But anyway,” I stuttered, realizing I was getting off topic.

Y/N squeezed my hand lightly as she held back a giggle. I felt my cheeks color slightly before continuing.

“I really like you. I mean like real genuine feelings. Even before I knew who you really were,” I explained, my heart racing as the fear of rejections grew.

“Wait, you liked me when I was a man? A-And you still like me? Like actual girl me?” she asked curiously.

My red cheeks grew hot as I grimaced, expecting her to criticize me as I nodded. Great. Not only was I coming out to her but I was also confessing my feelings.

I was shocked when I felt her lips pressed against mine. I let my free hand come up to her cheek as she knotted her own in my hair. I didn’t stop kissing her until I was out of breath. I rested my forehead on hers and smiled.

“So, you’re not weirded out or anything? You still like me?” I asked quietly.

“I don’t care at all. I like you for you, Zuko,” she mumbled against my lips.

She kissed me once more and I pulled her closer to me in a hug as she did. After so long, I was finally able to be with her.

“We’d better get inside before my father wonders what’s taking so long,” she said, a teasing smile on her face.

I stood up and held my hand out for her to take. She smiled at me and I pressed as kiss into her hand as she took mine. She held my hand as I began walking towards the house to help with dinner. Her warm hand in mine assured me that everything would be just fine.

[eury--dice]

glitter and tree branches

happy (belated) holidehs, @singtomeinstead​! thank you so much for your wonderful prompts and your even more wonderful dedication to this beautiful @sincerely-us gift exchange. hope your 2021 is off to a good start <3

(ao3 link in the notes!)

It all starts in Ellison Park.

Maybe that is the one thing, across any universe, that stays the same - that cannot change. No matter how you slice their story, it all starts in Ellison Park. Whether that beginning is a fall from a tree, a single form illuminated against the endless expanse of pink morning sky, or -

This.

It all starts in Ellison Park, 2006, when four families tangentially decide a trip to the park is the perfect spring activity, bundle up their five-year-olds and head off.

The Murphy’s arrive early. Larry guides the car over gravel until stopping, Connor and Zoe’s cheers from the backseat audible to everyone outside. Larry and Cynthia share a tight grin over their excitement, eyes pulled taut from lack of sleep.

“Ice cream!” Zoe shouts, eyes catching on the closed Dell’s lemonade cart just outside the gate. Connor is already chanting “le-mon-ade,” albeit much quieter than his sister. Cynthia raises a hand to massage over her eyes.

“It’s 11 am,” Larry points out. “No ice cream yet, sweetheart.”

“No!” They wail in perfect synchrony, only to promptly forget about sweets as soon as they’re unbuckled from the car and tearing off to the park. Cynthia sighs, gesturing for Larry to follow them while she gets what they need for the day.

Six-year-old Evan Hansen is decidedly a morning person. He has been a morning person since the day of his birth, and he will be one for the rest of his life. So while kids his age nod off against their parent’s shoulders on park benches and in their booster seats, he presses his nose against the window of the car and lets his breath fog it up even though he knows his father will scold him for the messiness later. As soon as they step into the park Evan’s vision tunnels into everything around him, sheer joy taking over as he pulls his hand from his mother’s and takes off towards the nearest tree.

“Evan!” she yelps, momentarily distracted from her argument with Mark. Since Evan normally never darts away from her, she’s caught off guard by his sudden energy, her heart rate skyrocketing with Mark’s words intangible in her ears. But Evan pays her no heed; he just runs, his parent’s arguing fading into the background for the first time he can remember. He stops at one of the trees, laying a palm against it and closing his eyes. Through his fingertips, it’s like he is rooted to the ground; like he himself is steady, consistent, and ready to provide comfort.

Heidi stops in her tracks once she can see that he’s safe, turning to Mark with an “are you seeing this?” expression, but he staunchly refuses to return her gaze.

Jared Kleinman is distinctly not a morning person, much to his friend’s dismay. Their parents always joked about it when they were little more than babies sharing naps in the Kleinman’s living room; Evan fussing at the first sign of light while Jared took more than a fair bit of commotion to so much as stir. So the Kleinman’s amble into the park a little after the Hansen’s, a still sleepy Jared leaning between his moms like a tiny labored soldier. He perks up on hearing Heidi’s voice, attuned to trouble as always, but his mom tightens her grip on his shoulder before he can run forward.

“Plenty of time for that,” she said in an undertone. “I don’t want you bonking your head because you’re sleepy.”

“I won’t,” Jared insists, offended at the mere notion he could mess something up.

His mother studies his eyes for a moment before relenting. “All right. Go see your friend.”

Jared takes off at once, a direct beeline to Evan - so direct that he doesn’t see the child-shaped obstacle in his path, immediately bonking heads and falling back onto his butt on the pavement, two glasses clattering noises filling his ears. “Oh my god,” he hears his other mom groan.

“You should be more careful,” a voice says, little-kid saccharine but mature beyond its years. “You’re Jared, right?”

“Alana! Are you okay?” a man calls at the same time Jared’s mom calls, “I told you!”

Jared hadn’t expected to see Alana Beck from his kindergarten class there, but he did all the same.

“Are you okay?” She says before he can respond. “My head hurts a bit. Does yours?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jared says. “A bit.” He reaches blindly for the first pair of glasses he can vaguely see, but when he puts them on his vision explodes and contorts.

“Are these yours?” they say at the same time, so Jared guesses she must have picked up his. They swap, and Jared frowns at a long scratch in his right lense before putting them back on.

“That’s why you need to look where you’re going,” Alana says, noting his frown. “My grandma says people get hurt when they’re not aware of their surroundings.”

“I guess.” Jared feels a little stunned into silence, even as their parents come over to check them. But finally, he manages to say “Do you want to come play with me and Evan?”

Alana scrunches up her nose, her glasses following. “Evan Hansen?”

“Yeah.”

She thinks on it for a moment, then throws a look to someone who must be her younger sister. “Okay,” she says, and that’s that.

The three unite by Evan’s tree, though Evan is a squirrel so he climbs nearly all the way up while Jared and Alana watch. Alana talks enough for all three of them, jabbering on about her family and what she misses from school now that they’re older, and that seems to ease Evan’s discomfort around a new person. He’s content to climb while they carry the conversation.

All three of their heads turn at the sound of a sudden splash followed by the shouts of two dismayed children. Jared laughs reflexively at the sight of horror on their nearly-identical faces, freckles elongated with their widening mouths. Evan drops down nimbly from the tree almost at once.

“Dad!” the boy calls, hands flying to his short curls to tug, and after a moment they recognize him as another classmate - Connor Murphy, in a different section, known to dominate the monkey bars at recess. “Why’d you throw it in the lake?”

“Emergency landing,” a man with graying hair replies, a little ways off from where Evan’s parents had settled. “Sorry, Con.”

While a few of their parents chuckle, neither of the kids appears sated; in fact, both look close to tears. The three by the tree exchange a look.

“Should we?” Alana says, and Evan nods, Jared already setting off towards the lake.

“What was it?” he asks loudly, once they near the two who lean over the surface of the lake longingly.

Zoe, who he only knew through Connor’s sharing time about his family, shot him a watery glare. “A airplane,” she bites out.

“An airplane,” Alana corrects, though she quiets when she’s on the receiving end of Zoe’s glare.

“We don’t have an airplane,” Evan says, looking between Alana and Jared for confirmation. “But, um…you can play with us?”

The two stare at each other for a beat, still working back tears, before they sigh.

“Not even one airplane?” Connor asks.

“Not even one.”

“My sister might have one,” Alana puts in. “I can ask?”

Connor eyes them warily for a beat before sighing again. “Fine. Zoe?”

“I guess so,” she says, voice small.

Friends acquired…apparently.

***

Most of the time, Zoe wishes she and Connor are real twins.

They feel enough like it - given that they almost always just played with each other - and even looked enough like it, if random people in the supermarket’s judgment could be trusted. People sometimes said they were Irish twins, which Zoe never quite understood, even after Cynthia sat her on the couch and explained the concept to her. Being Irish twins is fine and all, even though only their dad was even a little Irish (thanks, Murphy surname). But it isn’t as good as being a real twin, sharing the birthday she so desperately wants, sharing the grade above her own.

Instead, she’s stuck, out of the loop and behind. Alana comes over in the lunchroom on the days where she can, seemingly only willing to break the rules that keep her separated from everyone else due to grade. Zoe gets quite used to the sight of Alana beelining across the cafeteria, her star-patterned lunchbox unzipped and held to her chest as she weaves around students and faculty alike with a grace that Zoe assumes comes from dance. And she gets used to Alana parking herself right across from her, unzipping a small ziplock bag of baby carrots around the surprised looks of elementary school underclassmen, and saying something along the lines of “did Mrs. Gould teach you about magnets today?” And Zoe takes the offered baby carrot, puts away the felt-tip pen she’s been doodling with, and smiles.

She drags the other three over one day, though Connor’s lips set in annoyance over having to babysit his little sister and Evan’s set in something that looks closer to anxiety, casting anxious glances over to the faculty presiding over the lunchroom. Jared simply throws her an amused smile, squeezing between her and her friend from class and cutting Zoe off with a loud “Howdy!” before she can apologize for his behavior. Evan takes the unoccupied space on her right, his fingers messing with the clasp of his lunchbox. His eyes jump across the faculty members even as Alana and Connor sit across from her. She’s so used to seeing both of them across from her that it takes a moment for her to remember how different they usually are. Alana only ever looks like this, separated by a grainy plastic table and fluorescent lights, but normally she sees Connor under their warm kitchen lights and the honey-colored wood of their kitchen table.

“You don’t have to come over here,” she says quietly, words muffled into the collar of her sweater.

Alana just smiles and launches their normal lunch routine, this time with the added chatter from Connor and Jared, before Evan’s face shifts and Zoe lifts her eyes to see a faculty member appear just behind Alana.

“Aren’t you all at the wrong table?” They say, and the five scatter as quickly as they can, hoping to avoid docked recess as punishment. On the playground, Evan bites the corner of his nail nervously and Connor refuses to look in Zoe’s direction, staring instead towards the faculty hovering by the fences.

So much for trying to spend time together.

Out of school, though - out of school is equal for everyone, regardless of grade. No time to share, no privacy for their conversations, no good locations for their games.

“We should have a secret hiding spot,” Alana declares later that same day. Even from her position hunched under the bunk bed she shares with her younger sister, her voice carries such a sure tone that no one could even disagree.

“Should we all join you?” Jared quips. Connor responds by smacking him lightly on the shoulder.

“Not in my house,” Alana says, and for some reason, Zoe expects an eye roll or something of the sort, but she’s Alana so of course there’s only confidence and surety. “Do you really want my dads hearing everything?”

“We don’t have secrets,” Evan points out from his spot on the floor between Jared and Zoe. His sleeve brushes against Zoe’s when he fidgets, his hands moving his shoulders.

“We could,” Jared says. “How else are we going to steal all the Jell-O from the cafeteria?”

“I think you’re the only person who actually likes that Jell-o,” Zoe says, before immediately regretting it. The words slip through her teeth, liketh thad dell-o, rounded and off compared to all of her friends. Evan’s arm brushes against hers again.

“Of all the criminal plots, Jared,” Connor agrees.

“It’s gross,” Evan adds in an undertone, and Zoe is pretty sure she’s the only one who can hear it.

“But it would be a secret!”

“We’re not going to do that,” Alana says; words getting caught in a sigh. “But wouldn’t it be nice to talk without-”

As if on queue, her younger sister bursts into the room, catapulting herself onto the top bunk with a frightening speed. Evan falls into Jared as she hurtles over them, and Connor jumps practically a foot in the air.

With a comical precision, almost like something actually out of a comic in the paper that Larry loved to hand them on Sunday’s so they could “learn to read a newspaper,” they turn to look at Alana.

“Like I said,” she says, assuming her teacher voice.

“…Well, where?” Jared finally replies. “Our houses don’t work too well.”

“Outside?” Evan suggests hopefully. “Maybe the park?”

“It’s too cold, and our parents can’t always drive us there,” Alana says. “But maybe…hm…

At once, Connor and Zoe’s heads swivel towards each other.

“We have a place,” Connor says slowly, reading understanding on Zoe’s face. “Or…we will.”

Larry has passions that ebb and flow just like Cynthia, and for once Zoe is certain she and her brother are thinking of the same thing; the influx of wood he’d been purchasing recently, the power tools they heard whenever he was off work, the constant questions over whether they wanted to help.

A week later, the five stand in the Murphy’s backyard. Cynthia and Larry observe at a distance, their faces careful as they watch the kid’s reactions but obvious joy in the lines of Larry’s tiny smile.

“Oh my God,” Jared breathes. “Is it real?”

“No, dummy,” Connor says, voice filled with a pompousness that Zoe hates. “We bought a treehouse decal and spent all night getting it up there just to play tricks on you.”

“Don’t be mean, Connor,” Zoe says with the snobbiness she knows he hates. He sticks his tongue out at her in return.

Evan steps forward first, laying his palm against the tree trunk and staring up with a reverence Zoe never expected. He smiles gently, the light brushing his cheeks like burnished bronze, and Zoe looks away with a smile similar to her father’s.

“Well, let’s go,” Connor says, and Evan must take his words as invitation, because he forgoes the ladder and chooses instead to scale the tree limbs until worming his way in through the “window” of the treehouse. Zoe heard something like a fond laugh behind her, most likely her mother’s doing, before she raced off to the tree herself. She did opt for the ladder, however. Connor follows Evan’s dramatics, and Alana and Jared are close on Zoe’s heels.

“Woah,” she hears Alana breathe, and, well. Woah was right.

The treehouse isn’t very large, but to a bunch of elementary students it certainly feels like it. The smell of fresh pine assaults her nose, dust still floating around and tickling her eyelashes. The late fall light streams in through the slats and windows, leaving a gold-washed tint around the treehouse and all of her friends.

Connor wanders over to a small platform, and she follows, letting her other friends scatter about the room, chattering idly about the treehouse. Zoe leans her head on Connor’s shoulder, but just as she does Connor nudges Zoe with his elbow. Uncaring to her yelp, he asks “Do you have the thread in your room?”

“Thread?” She repeats, as it takes her brain a moment to catch up. “Ohh. Yeah. I think so.”

“Want to go grab it?”

“Why?”

He motions to his wrist and then to the group as a whole.

“Whyyyy me?” She says, the y drawing out into a whine in a true younger sibling move.

All the same, she’s on her way back up the treehouse with a tub of bracelet thread tucked under her arm five minutes later. Maneuvering up the ladder with it tucked under her arm proved to be a bit of a challenge, but nothing Zoe Murphy can’t handle. She does throw it through the window before her, though, which (by Connor’s horrified yelp) isn’t the brightest move. When she reenters, Connor is already gathering up thread and shaking dust out of it.

“Oh, yes,” Jared says, surging forward and grabbing a green and purple thread from Connor’s hands. He sits heavily on the ground, immediately beginning a complicated braid without any prompting. He looks up at their surprised faces a moment later. “What? I learned at camp this summer.”

“Did you learn, Evan?” Alana asks, likely remembering they went to the same camp.

Evan looks away, one hand reaching to pick at an imperfection in the wooden wall. He shrugs. “‘M not very good,” he says, and Zoe can’t help but remember the snatches of conversation she remembers overhearing accidentally from her parents - she had to drive down and couldn’t handle it and maybe talking to the school counselor came to mind.

She crosses to him without thinking, grabbing his hand. “I’ll teach you,” she blurts without thinking. Connor hands her her favorite colors without prompting, and Zoe begins a tri-color braid that’s probably more complicated than Evan needs, but he catches on easily enough after a few minutes, twisting the blue and purple and pink together into something beautiful.

They pass their first hours in the treehouse like that, singularly focused like only little kids can be, and when Zoe’s parents bring up pizza and Sprite they pause only to admire their fine work. Several bracelets adorn each of their wrists, each twisted by someone else and infused with why Jared jokingly called the power of love. And the sun sets on them all together, smearing grease across their faces and throwing loose bits of thread across their haven in the sky, and Zoe smiles.

***

It was nearing dinnertime, far too cold and far too quiet to be in a treehouse.

Connor and Zoe took to hanging around the treehouse even when their friends weren’t there, much preferring it to their former hiding places within the house. As the winter wore on and the days grew shorter, so did Murphy tempers, and cabin fever mixed in only made enclosed spaces more liable to combust. So, with the treehouse available, Zoe tended to grab Connor and the ukelele she’d just begun learning to play and sneaking out the sliding door into their backyard. That particular evening, the layer of fluffy snow that had just fallen masked their escape and allowed them entrance to the treehouse and cushioned any residual noise left from the kitchen. They still were bundled up, however, their parkas and hats pulled tight. Both had forgone gloves, however; Zoe felt her fingers stiffen and slip on her ukelele strings, while Connor seemed unperturbed by the cold while he sketched in his brand-new sketchbook. Save for her muffled ukelele noises and the faint rustling of small creatures in the snow and Connor’s pencil etching against paper, all was still.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to bring string instruments into the cold,” Connor said, breaking the silence. Zoe responded by strumming an e minor chord more aggressively.

They fell back into their rhythm, and Connor started to hum along to her strumming just as the pinks and purples broke through gray winter sky.

“We have a project,” a voice declared. startling both of them out of their individual reveries. Alana’s head popped up in the treehouse window, a giant pom-pom hat perched precariously over the intricate braided bun Zoe could remember seeing at school that day.

“Jesus Christ, Alana,” Connor said, sounding very much like a kid who was trying his hardest to get a handle on cussing and sounding cool. “How did you get here?”

Alana blinked, righting the large box she held in her hands. “Your parents said you were here.”

Connor stilled abruptly, while Zoe’s foot started bouncing. “You talked to them?”

“Yeah,” she said, and as if she knew their next question - likely because she did, from years of experience - “They seemed like they were calming down.”

“Good,” Zoe said quietly.

Impervious to the Murphy siblings’ shifted expressions, Alana dropped the metal box to the floor and followed it, dropping to the frosty pine boards like there was nothing else she’d rather do. “Anyway, we’re making a time capsule!”

“We are?” Zoe said, feeling amusement creeping into the edges of her voice.

“Yes. You’ll thank me in ten years.”

Zoe and Connor shared a look. Connor cut off the awkward silence that suddenly descended. “The ground is frozen. How are we going to bury it?”

Alana grinned over the lid. “My dads were talking about the thaw later this week.”

“No snow?” added a new voice. Evan popped up barely a moment later, likely having taken a wild path up the tree rather than using the ladder like anyone else, even when ice coated to every nook and cranny of the bark. “Already?”

“Apparently,” Zoe replied.

“Won’t it get all covered in mud?” Jared added, and Zoe spun her head around to look at Alana, fixing her with a sharp look.

“Did you invite everyone over to our house?”

Alana shrugged. “This is important. And there isn’t that much mud if you dig deep enough, Jared.”

“Again - why?” Connor interrupted.

“Because she says so, and it’s a kick-ass idea,” Jared said.

“Didn’t expect you to latch onto sentimentality, Kleinman,” Zoe muttered, startling a laugh out of him.

Alana pulled a binder free from the backpack she’d slung to the ground. “C’mon - what do you want to add?”

“Cheerios,” Jared said at once, earning a scowl out of Alana.

“If you’re not going to take this seriously, Jared-”

“He’ll shut up,” Evan rushed to cut him off. “So not food items?”

“More sentimental, I think,” Connor said.

“Exactly.”

Under Alana’s direction, they did just that. After a successful thaw later in the week Zoe took a shovel from the garage and helped them dig and re-bury dirt in the Murphy’s backyard, marked by a small stake Connor painted with acrylics from their mom’s craft supply.

“Now we wait,” Alana said.

***

Somewhere along the line, things get… tense.

Zoe reads the self-help books and watches the videos her teachers play on VHS tapes during their “health” classes. They all describe the same thing, a switch flipping with no warning once elementary school draws to a close and sixth grade begins. Admittedly, she watches them a year later than everyone else, forever cursed to be a year behind. But she knows it’s coming all the same - fault lines crackling out through the earth and darting between their feet, setting them all adrift on different paths, thunder drowning out their words where there used to be laughter.

Nothing could have prepared her for the actual occurrence, though.

The treehouse really is their de facto hangout spot, given the Murphy’s lasé-faire attitude towards where their children were and the complete privacy it afforded. With their newly-acquired Jazz Band extracurricular, Zoe and Jared always arrive late, normally to the sight of Evan and Alana reading and Connor drawing or some other combination of their group’s preferred activities. But when they climb the ladder to the treehouse that day, the air is…stilted, like Zoe has grown to expect inside the house. That kind of expectant anger, like you know something is going to go wrong but aren’t sure what it is yet.

Evan sits, his eyes darting between Alana and Connor and over to Jared and Zoe as they walk in like he can sense a disaster brewing. Jared flounces over to Connor, sprawling, earning himself a glare.

“Can I help you, Kleinman?”

He nods to the sketchbook in Connor’s hands. “Might want to clean up those lines.”

It only gets worse from there - cutting barbs thrown this way and that, all ready to strike and hit. Nothing too bad, at least not until Connor says get the fuck out of my house and Jared says at least I have other people who will take me and Alana says honestly can’t you two even try to act mature and Zoe hears herself say at least we’re not miserable all the time before she realizes that’s - patently false. And one by one, they storm away, hopping down with practiced agility they no longer have reason to use.

And there Zoe sits. Shutting down, like she always does.

***

Connor felt like he was suffocating.

Everything was aggressively there-every word spoken grating his ears, every shadow a little too dark and every light a little too bright, every glance so heavy it weighed on his chest. He felt uneven and on edge, like one loud noise would send him spiraling off of a cliff and bursting into tears.

“Zoe,” he’d said, coming up behind her as she stood at the counter. Maybe if he’d looked he would have seen how her shoulders tensed as soon as she heard his voice. Maybe if he’d listened he would’ve heard how Zoe’s breath hitched and how she quickly ran a hand over her face. Maybe if he’d paid attention he would’ve noticed how her hands clenched around her mug and she steeled herself. Maybe the glint of pain and fear and loneliness nestled deep within her eyes before she put her shields up as she turned around would’ve stood out to him. But he couldn’t even handle analyzing himself, and there was no hope for understanding Zoe.

“What?” She said, and even in his funk he noticed how her words appeared differently than normal. Maybe, if he’d taken a moment to think, he would have identified the source-fatigue, cutting through each letter. There was none of the venom they’d grown used to hurling at each other and pretending it didn’t burn once it touched skin. She sounded tired.

He rubbed the edge of his sweatshirt sleeve with us thumb, trying to pull an excuse out of nowhere. In reality, he just needed something to anchor him to Earth, but he couldn’t say that to her. “Could you paint my nails?” He bit out, risking cutting his gaze up to her face. Her eyes had widened slightly since he last looked at her, eyebrows lifted silently with them. She pulled her bottom lip between her front teeth, and she looked down and away, foot tapping some unfamiliar rhythm against the tiled floor. Silence hung between them, dark and heavy, nearly drowning out the tap tap taptap tap of her foot. He looked back up towards her, not quite meeting her eyes, perhaps a bit more expectancy in his gaze than he would have liked.

She shook her head slightly, ring finger tapping against the side of her mug. “Why?” She said, almost too quietly for him to hear.

“Why am I asking…?”

“Yeah,” She said, same fatigue in her voice. “Why are you asking me? When this is the first time you’ve talked to me in…what, four months without being forced to?”

Connor shrugged a little, taken aback by this reaction. A soft, incredulous laugh built in Zoe’s throat.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, voice choked. “I don’t understand. You’ve broken down my door twice. I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. Why would you want me to…”

“I don’t know,” Connor said, voice uneven. Zoe shook her head again.

She stared evenly at him, and maybe if he’d been paying better attention he would have noticed the thin sheen of tears in her eyes as he raised his eyes to meet hers. “What color?”

“What?”

“Nail polish. If I painted your nails. What color would it be?”

Connor resumed rubbing his sleeve. “Black.”

She bit her lip again, the edges of her mouth curling into a bitter smile, words sounding just as bitter. “Damn. I’m out of black.”

The edge of Connor’s mouth twitched even as he felt something sink inside of him. “I see,” he said, a touch harder than the previous words had been.

Zoe shrugged, hand still wrapped around her mug, as she pushed her hip against the side of the counter to launch herself away from it. “That’s that, I guess.”

“I guess so,” Connor responded, voice hollow.

Maybe, if he’d looked up instead of locking his gaze on the floor, he’d have seen the tense hold of Zoe’s shoulders, the moment of faltering before she continued walking.

“I guess so,” she repeated faintly, all edges gone form her voice and tiredness abundant.

Connor squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them, she was completely gone from the kitchen. He gazed around for a moment, letting the view of the kitchen wash around him.

Oh, how the mighty fall.

***

Zoe is desperately glad she and Connor are only Irish twins.

Distance - distance is what she needs more than ever. She’d hated it, that chasm between her and everyone else, but of course she couldn’t have known just how wide that chasm could get. Would get, with time and urging and their circle falling apart under the right amount of pressure.

The right amount of pressure, she thinks, poised to flee on her kitchen chair, leg bouncing and heart coiled, for Connor to come home. He does, of course, sullen and tired, but in front of her eyes all the same. It’s only been a year since they reached critical mass in the treehouse, but the shift in all of them came quickly and without mercy. Alana buries herself in more work than Zoe had ever thought possible, always hurrying away whenever Zoe tries to get a word in edgewise. Jared just darts his eyes around like a caged animal, calculations churning behind his eyes as though searching for his best way forward. Evan she still sees somewhat regularly, making sure that her parents still drive him home and letting him crash on their couch when Heidi works too late, but she’s seen him retreat into himself too often to think he’s okay. And Connor…

“What are you doing up?” he whispers, the sound traveling across their kitchen table.

“Waiting for you,” she responds in a similar hiss, snapping her laptop shut.

“You should’ve just gone to bed, Mom’s gonna be pissed if she sees the li-”

“When she sees her son walk through the door at-” she lifts her phone dramatically, searching for the little time symbol. “1:12 in the morning?”

“Well she won’t see it if you just go to sleep-”

“What are you even doing?” she says in a normal tone, though she recoils and presses a hand over her mouth when Connor’s eyes widen in warning. She and Connor freeze with their hands stifling their breathing, trying to hear any shifts from their parents upstairs with their identical eyes wide. After a beat of nothing but the house shifting in the wind, she lowers her hands, swiping up her laptop with the one closest to the table. “You don’t need to be out this late, Con.”

His eyes flash over to her, then back up to the ceiling. “You don’t need to stay up for me.”

“Oh, sure, I’ll just stop worrying, I’ll just go to bed and dream sweet dreams when you’re doing hell knows what-”

“I didn’t ask you to fucking worry about me!” He cuts out. “I don’t need your pity, Zoe!”

She balts, shakes her head, feels her braids sliding against the material of her jazz band sweatshirt. “Pity?” she repeats.

Connor holds his jaw, looking away.

“Pity,” she says, then laughs a single time, too loud, but she’s past the point of caring. “I don’t know where you got pity from in the last fourteen years, Connor, but none of it is coming from me, that’s for sure.” She brushed past him. “Fine. You don’t deserve my worry anyway. I’ll tell mom in the morning if you’re so insistent.”

Connor’s footsteps hurry after her, until his fingers wrap around her wrist. She jerks it away as soon as he makes contact, “Don’t. Please.”

“You want me to stop worrying?” she says lowly, dangerously. “Fine. Then I’ll make sure you can’t do anything that worries me. See how you fucking like that.”

It was like a switch flipped in Connor, like as soon as their group fell apart so did he, growing more liable to shut down and ramp up at once. But he just leaves her grasping at straws always, never able to say anything right.

Middle school bleeds into high school, the chasm and pressure growing between them, small disagreements exploding into screams and something valuable shattering. Doors they’d never closed before close with racorous clangs, and Zoe grows tired of sleeping outside of them and waiting for him to open them up.

You don’t need to worry about me, he’d said, and she can’t ever stop, really, but she can ignore him until the worry clawed at her a little less urgently.

Try as she might, she couldn’t just forget all those years, especially when she saw reminders of them all around school - flashes of Jared’s shirts, an edge of Alana’s backpack, a flicker of Evan’s eyes. She still goes to the treehouse, sometimes, but mostly she keeps to her room, her guitar, the things she knows.

Her phone buzzes one night, and when she sees Evan Hansen flash across her screen she picks it up without a moment’s thought.

“Hello?”

“Zoe?” Evan says, voice breathy in her ear.

There’s a beat. “Yeah,” she finally says. “You okay?”

“I’m - yeah, um, I’m fine, it’s all - uh, my mom is pulling a night shift.”

“Oh?” She says, barely a hum.

“Yeah. She - look, this is, um, really dumb, I know, but can I - can I stay at yours? Tonight? I know it’s been, um, less than ideal, I can just-”

“Yeah,” she says, again without thinking. She squeezes her eyes shut, forces enthusiasm into her voice. “Yeah. ‘Course, Ev. I’ll - you need me to pick you up?”

“What? Um - no, I’m - I’m at the park, actually, walking is…fine.”

Her eyebrows pull closer together. “It’s late.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Really.”

Ten minutes later, Evan is on their front porch. Cynthia greets him with a warm smile, and Zoe leans against the doorway of the guest room while he sets himself up.

“Are you okay, Evan?” She hears herself ask.

His head jerks up quickly, locking eyes with her. “I-I’m fine.”

Zoe shakes her head, letting out a but of air through her nose. “What’s up, then?”

His hands still over his backpack, and he looks just past her head to the hallway. “I couldn’t be alone in that house.”

She hesitates for a moment, nods, looks to the corner of the room. “I get it.”

“Do you?”

Her eyes snap back over to him. “What?”

“Do you - have you been alone, Zoe, through all of this?”

She snorts. “Good as.”

“But never actually-”

“Loneliness isn’t always distance,” she spits out. “But if it was you’d be all set, given how much you run away from all of us.”

Time slows to a crawl; Evan lets his hands fall to his sides, eyes wide and searching on hers.

“I’m,” she begins, the word getting stuck in her throat. She looks towards her feet. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, but before he can say anything she says “I’ll drive you in tomorrow” and is gone, set off down the hallway.

The next morning she gets to her car early, knowing, somehow, he’ll climb in with enough time to get there. And he does so wordlessly.

Somewhere, on the way to school, he murmurs, “I’m sorry for pulling away.”

She taps her index finger against the wheel, looking out towards the road rather than him. The scene is desolate, still early-morning and deserted with the yellowing pools of light from streetlights that have yet to switch off. “Yeah, me too.”

Every day, he swings by her house - a long walk, making his day longer, but he’s always been an early bird - to get a ride to school. Connor joins them occasionally, but mostly he arrives by his own means that Zoe isn’t too interested in learning. He talks to Jared, little by little, and she sees Connor and Alana in the library and Jared and Alana with their heads bowed together at lunch. She finds a picture of them in the treehouse and texts it to them as a group, and things feel a little closer to okay.

After high school, things start to calm down, like an inflamed cut that needs to be soothed. She and Connor stand in each other’s doorways until they have the courage to walk inside, and their newly-reinstated group chat keeps a steady flow of bad memes and musical theater jokes. It’s easier to breathe when she’s at school, easier to move and be. She’s used to being alone in a house full of people; being alone in a city of lonely people is close enough that the transition is almost nothing.

She misses everyone, though. Evan texts her pictures of the trees back home and around the community college, and Connor snaps Jared and Alana when they’re around. She’s the only one who left, this time around. Removed by physical distance rather than a measly year.

She gets home for winter break halfway through December, and an unusually warm one at that. Connor follows her up to her room, watching her unpack likely half in an attempt to give her some privacy from their parents.

“You seen Evan yet?” He asks at some point, once he’s grown bored of watching her fold clothes.

“No, not yet,” she replies with saccharine sweetness.

“You should,” he mocks in a similar tone of voice.

“I will.”

Their ridiculous miming comes to a halt when she withdraws a rattling bag from her backpack and throws it onto her bed. Connor dives forward, grabbing at it. “Is this-did you just throw nail polish?” He demands.

She looks him dead in the eye and does the same with her other bag.

“Dishonor on you,” he mutters, already unzipping it and rifliging through the colors with a clink each time. “Want me to do your nails? They’re looking…” he trails off, eyes dipping to her unpainted and bitten nails, worn down by her guitar strings.

“I could say the same to you,” she says. “Stones and glass houses, dear brother.”

“Point taken.”

They take the time to paint each other’s nails after dinner, sitting on their living room couch. Connor opts for a dark blue instead of his gala black, and chooses gold glitter for the upcoming holidays for Zoe.

“Please don’t get nail polish on the couch, Zoe,” her mother says as she passes by to go to the kitchen, and she and Connor lock eyes. He rolls his; she smiles tightly.

“You’d think she say it to me, given that I live here,” Connor whispers.

Her phone bzzs in her pocket, and instinctively she reaches for it, noting the way the golden glitter glints against the denim of her jeans.

Evan Hansen: gonna leave mom’s for a walk, you tied up?

She feels the corners of her lips twitch involuntarily. Yes, please. Ready in 10?

“I’m gonna take a walk,” she announces loudly enough her parents should be able to hear it from the next room. “It’s just Evan,” she adds in an undertone to Connor. “Want to come along?”

“Nope. Have fun, though, I guess.”

“So enthusiastic.”

Evan is waiting outside, bundled up in a scarf and parka. His eyes pinch at the edges like they always do when he’s tired; she surges forward and slides her arms around his neck, colliding with him softly so he lets out an oomph. She feels a kiss pressed to the top of her head a moment later.

“Hey,” she says, muffled into his coat. “You’re overdressed.”

“You’re underdressed.”

“Fleece is never wrong.”

“…I suppose you’re right?” And then, with some trepidation, “oh no. Not again.”

“I’m always right,” she says lightly, throwing him a smile so he knows it’s a joke. She reaches for his hand, tugging him forward lightly. “Heidi‘s doing well?”

“Well as always, yeah. Your family?”

“All…fine,” she says. “Just, y’know…stressed.”

“Mhm,” Evan hums, and she can tell he’s trying to say something, so she just squeezes his hand lightly and falls silent.

“Dad wanted me to go h–to Colorado,” Evan blurts. “For Christmas.”

She pauses a little at that, tugging his hand closer. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” He swallows gently, watching the sky with a ferocity she can barely remember him having. She sees the stars shine in his deep brown eyes, though they seem a little too starry to be reflection alone. He blinks rapidly. “Mom encouraged me,” he adds, “but I–Zoe, I couldn’t.”

“I don’t blame you,” she says, letting out a jet of breath. “I wouldn’t be able to either.” She lets her eyes drift upward and pulls him a little bit closer to her, wrapping her free hand around his arm. “Can’t,” she amends, all breath.

“He still doesn’t care,” Evan says, almost to himself. “He knows what I fucking celebrate, and he still doesn’t–care.”

“Yeah, well, he’s a dick,” Zoe says before immediately wishing she could take it back. That kind of bluntness helps her and Connor, but never Evan.

But Evan surprises her all the same. “You’re not wrong.”

A laugh bursts from her chest, and after a moment Evan joins her, albeit hesitantly. “Like I said,” she repeats, “never am.”

Evan’s ghand remains chilly in hers, despite his best attempts to keep warm with his jacket; she brings his hand over to hold it in both of hers, wincing a little as his cold fingers meet hers.

“How are you so cold all the time?” she murmurs, massaging over his knuckles with one hand.

“How is it for you?” He asks suddenly, his brain taking him in a whole new direction. Zoe isn’t phased by the topic change.

“It’s…like it always is,” she admits, her voice low. She pulls Evan’s hands closer to her heart, trying to convince herself it’s just to warm him up. “Better with Con, I guess. But it’s still…” she swallows roughly. “I feel like I can’t…breathe, sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Evan says quietly. “It can be hard.” He frees his hand, only to wrap it around her shoulders. She steals his other hand as soon as they get situated in a good walking pace.

Almost nothing about Evan is calm, but he’s calming all the same. He’s all Zoe can think of as they turn in front of Ellison State Park.

Evan stills, and Zoe keeps walking forward for a moment, accidentally tugging at their conjoined hands. She looks back at him immediately, tone filling with concern. “Everything okay?”

“Is that…” he mutters, before surging forward and pulling her rather than the other way around. “Alana! Jared!” He calls, uncharacteristically loud. And sure enough, in the distance, she can see Alana and Jared leaned over something just inside the bronzed gates of Ellison Park.

“Evan!” Jared calls, only to immediately get shushed by an old couple taking a walk around the park.

They hurry across the street, waving wildly to the single car that seems perplexed by their crossing, and Alana passes something to Jared before pulling them both into a too-tight hug that reminds Zoe of her mother.

When they pull away, she ruffles Zoe’s hair like she’s a little kid again. “There’s our city girl.”

“You should’ve joined me!” Zoe protests, already moving over to Jared to hug him.

Jared looks like he might shy away for a second, but he relents only a second later, a hug almost as tight as Alana’s. Zoe’s pulled away by a pressure at her leg, something soft poking through the tears and a panting noise. When she looks down, the downy face of a dog stares back up at her, tail wagging and tongue hanging out. Without thinking, she drops to the ground, offering him a hand as she balances on one knee. He nearly knocks her over a moment later when he bounds forward to lick her cheek and request pets. She looks back up at the obvious joy on Alana’s face.

“You adopted a dog??” She asks, remembering the powerpoint Alana made in middle school trying to convince her parents.

“Yes! We just got him this weekend and he’s already the best boy.”

The golden glint of a collar tag catches her eye. “Archibald? Well, aren’t you just a joy, Archie!”

“He doesn’t like Archie” Alana says a bit curtly, mid-coaxing the dog back towards her. She flips a few braids that had escaped her ponytail over her shoulder just in time for the dog to make a grab for them. She grins down at him before looking back up towards Zoe. “Is Connor around? I haven’t seen him in a bit.”

“Yeah,” Zoe says. “Here, I can…” She pulls out her phone to tell Connor to join them, making a silly face when the dog makes a u-turn to lick her cheek.

Connor Murphy: are you and hansen bein gross

Zoe: alana and jared are here dork

Connor: with archibald?

Zoe: how. how did you know this

Connor: lana and i have a snap streak of 150k. keep up

Zoe: side note do you know why she named her dog after an elderly british man

Zoe: and won’t let me call him archie

Connor: says archie’s a dumb name and she “thinks its refined”

Zoe: lmao k

“Connor should be by soon,” she relays, smiling back down at the dog. He takes a particular liking to her; she can’t quite get used to it. “You’re a good baby, aren’t you?”

Something occurs to her all of the sudden, and she pulls her phone back out.

Zoe: WAIT are you still by the house

Connor: just leaving why

Zoe: …yknow that old time capsule?

Connor: are you going to ask me to dig it up in mid december while you’re hanging out with our old friends so i can bring it to the park

Zoe: yes

Connor: you were put on this earth to test me

Connor: be there in 15

“He’s bringing something,” she adds, and ignores their curious looks in favor of the dog.

When Connor’s shape finally appears, it’s carrying a bag rather than a box. “It was shot,” he explains in an undertone once he gets close enough for Zoe to hear. He reaches out a hand and lands a spare pat to Archibald’s head. “Had to improvise.”

“Hey, Connor!” Alana says, almost too cheery. Connor raises a hand, plopping the bag in the middle of their circle but out of Archibald’s reach.

“We don’t want your weird sex stuff, Connor,” Jared says, and Zoe shoots him a glare.

“It’s the time capsule, actually, but thanks for the input,” Connor says before Zoe can speak.

A beat passes, no noise but Archibald’s panting.

“Oh,” Alana says after a moment. “Your parents let you keep that?”

“They didn’t know,” Zoe and Connor deadpan at the same time. Jared stifles something that sounds like a cough but is probably closer to a laugh.

Zoe looks at Evan and reaches out to lace their fingers together again. He looks around the group, studying each person’s face. “Should we…”

Jared reaches forward and overturns the bag.

Glitter is the first thing Zoe sees; she hears Evan hiss “shit” as it explodes everywhere over the grass. It’s green, which makes that portion of grass look unnaturally healthy and shiny. Jared looks up; some had reached his glasses lenses, as he was the one to set the glitter loose.

“Alright,” he says. “Who put the glitter in?”

Alana grimaces and holds Archibald back from the pile of glitter. “I’m pretty sure that was you, Jared.”

“…Oh.”

Zoe leans forward, picking through the cacophony of items and silently handing them out. A few purple, pink, and blue friendship bracelets find their way throughout the group, and Connor even puts one on to a joke from Zoe about stealing the bi colors. Jared reclaims a few of the Connor has to make a quick grab for a few sheets of paper in the wind that turn out to be filled with his sketches. Zoe picks up a purple ukulele pick, feeling it slide between her calloused fingertips. She hands Evan an outdated pamphlet from Ellison State Park about their rangers program to Jared’s exclamation of “That’s what you put in??” and throws a few ballet ribbons and a small journal in Alana’s direction.

Jared’s makes her pause, and he takes advantage of the lull to surge forward and snatch the object from her hands. The silicone abides easily. “So that’s where I put my iPod!”

“Why did we let you do this?” Zoe says. “Why did your parents?”

“I’m gonna be honest,” Jared admits, examining it for quality. He looks up and around their assembled group. “I forgot about it immediately after burying it.”

Alana laughs first, and then she sets everyone else off, a group of college-age kids giggling over a pile of glitter and their childhood treasures in the park where everything began. Evan falls into Zoe’s side, unable to curb his laughter; she buries her own in the top of his head, his curls tickling her cheeks and making her laughs worse. And as they get dirty looks from everyone around them, the night only feels like another beginning.

[mickmarstookmyheart]

Trust

Pairing: Mick Mars X Reader Type: angst and then fluff

Summary: You and Mick have been together since Doc hired you as an assistant. 2 years passed and currently you were on tour where Mick had some problem with a groupie.

Gif belongs to @snowluthor​

Mötley Crüe has ready given a thousand shows since the start of the tour. They always had a good time playing on stage, though even better behind backstage. Drugs, alcohol, and groupies. However Mick was never the type of person who cheated on his girlfriend or did any drugs. Sometimes when his back was messing with him, he drank a bit more alcohol than he did generally. You just hung up a phone call to arrange with the press to give some interviews. You knew they hated it, but need some more promotion, and since Doc told you you just did your job. You were walking down the hallway to tell this good news to them.

"Vinnie, what do you think about this one?" Nikki was eyeing one of the groupies.

"She is not an object, bass player." Mick murmured, not liking the way they were treating other girls. They were groupies but they were human after all.

"What is it, old man?" Vince was grinning while a blond chick sat in his lap.

"Don't you want a girl to yourself?"

"I have (Y/N), remember?" Mick glared at him and turned his look away when a girl stood in front of him.

"But she is not here, is she?" The girl asked sitting beside him, whispering in his ear.

"She is. Just working."

"Is she doesn't know about this..." She started to massage Mick's thighs. "Then it won't hurt her, right?!"

"Get off." Mick huffed and stood up, heading towards the door. The chick blocked his way and put her hands on his shoulders.

"Are you deaf?" Mick snapped.

"Hey, why don't you leave him alone? There are enough places for all of you, girls." Vince tried to help Mick getaway.

"I will get you whether you like it or not." The groupie cupped Mick's face and kissed him on the lips. Just at the same moment you opened the door and watched the whole scene. The girl turned to see you and smiled from the victory.

"You bitch." Mick cursed and realized you were standing in the door. "(Y/N), it's not what it looks like. I promise." "I hope it worth it." You said walking away from the room. Mick was trying to catch up but you were too fast. "(Y/N), stop! Let me explain, please."

"There is nothing to be explained. I saw what I saw, Mick." You spit. "Tell Doc, I quit." You felt tears running down your cheeks as you were now running. Mick just stood there, not knowing what he could do. He felt his heart breaking from not seeing you again.

"What did she say, Mick?" Tommy asked him, fearing what happened.

"She is gone."

Four years later

"Stop collecting necessary things in the basket, little miss!" You scolded your daughter while doing the shopping. She just giggled watching you. You huffed putting back one of the chocolates when you noticed she ran away. Damn, this child. You started to search for her when you noticed her nagging a guy in one of the alleys.

"I'm so sorry if she bothered you, sir." You said glaring down at your child. "Zoe Alice Smith, how many times do I have to say that no running away in the shop?" You bent down and looked at her with a strict look. "I'm sorry, mummy. I just saw this man whose face is on the living rooms' wall." She said while you picking her up. You gulped and finally took a look at the man.

"(Y/N)?" Mick asked happily. He was glad to see you which you couldn't say about yourself.

"Hey, Mick." You mumbled. "Zoe, go find granny alright?" She nodded and after you put her down she ran away hopefully to her grandma.

"You are a mom, now." Mick was surprised seeing you with a child. He hoped you two would have one, one day.

"Yeah, I'm a mommy." You smiled seeing her with your mother-in-law safe and sound. "So, what are you doing here?" You asked him crossing your arms in front of your chest. Then you saw Mick with that chick, you promised yourself that you won't ever meet him again. You moved out of your shared apartment and even from the state. You found yourself a job where you met your husband and later you had Zoe. You were not that angry at him now, just disappointed.

"Just grabbing some food for the night. You know, those bastards still can't do it for themselves." He joked making you smile. You really missed Vince and the Terror Twins. They always managed to lighten up your day even if you were completely desperate.

"I can imagine. Sorry again if she nagged you."

"No need to apologize." He smiled.

"So, I think I should go. She must be troubling again. Bye." You waved but Mick grabbed your wrist.

"Can we meet sometime?" He asked still holding your hand. You sighed knowing he wouldn't let you go until you say something.

"Mick, I have Zoe and my husband. I barely have time for myself. I have work to do at home. I just can't." You didn't want to mess up with your boyfriend. He was quite a jealous type so if he would see you with Mick, even if it was just only would be a talk. Well, he would be angry.

"Please, just talk." He was now literally begging you.

"Damn it. Alright." You gave up and pulled back your hand from his light grip. "Here is my number." You said while taking one of your company's business card.

"Look at you. You had your own company. I'm impressed." Mick was gazing at the card you gave him. "Then see you soon."

"Sure." You murmured and headed back to your daughter. You wanted to meet him, tho you were quite afraid about your husband, John's reaction to the meeting. Well, why should he know about it?

When you arrived home, you put all the groceries you bought. Zoe was sitting on the counter helping you handing the goods. She was holding two oranges in front of her eyes and she had a banana in her mouth. You giggled taking two apples as she did with the oranges. When she saw you, she giggled and started to throw some nuts from the basket beside her.

"This means war, little miss." You said with a threatening voice. You took one of the cutting boards as a shield and a kitchen spoon like a sword and poked gently her belly. She dramatically laid back on the counter giggling.

"I'm dead, oh my." You adored your little drama queen. She was giggling more when she saw his dad with a white towel in his hand.

"I surrender. I came to offer peace. No more harm." He was yelling loudly. "We won't accept it!" You yelled back giving your Zoe a spoon to "defend" herself from the fight.

"Oh, really? In this case, I think I will have to beat you." He rolled up his sleeve and knotted the towel on his head if he was a ninja. He started to run towards you and picked up both Zoe and you heading to the couch. You all were happy.

Mick was laying on his couch drinking a beer. He was watching the TV and was thinking about you. The days you two were happy together, the hotels and all the new countries you discovered during the tours. And then his mind was on the moment you disappeared from his sight on the day you split. He cursed himself since then. Tommy and Vince were asking him constantly if they could help to explain to you the things which truly happened, but he said no. He knew that you were too stubborn to even listen to them. The tour continued as the parties. Mick barely attended one or two, he usually just stayed in his hotel room. He laid with some groupies, after all, he was a man and he had needs, but he was so drunk he didn't remember them. He was gazing at the phone on the table beside him and decided to call you. At first, he was hesitating not wanting to bother you and your family but then he changed his mind and dialed the number you gave him.

"Is this (Y/N)?" Mick asked on the phone.

"No, it's her husband. Who is this exactly?" John was frustrated. Why a guy was calling his wife? He didn't like it.

"It's... I'm one of her colleagues. I'm Mick M.. Mick Lee." He facepalmed not believing he said Lee was his surname. Mick wasn't sure if he should tell the truth so he lied. "Can you please hand her? There are a few things which we have to discuss the project..we are doing." Mick hoped the man on the other side of the phone would believe him. John narrowed his eyes then he called for you.

"Some Mick Lee is looking for you. He said it's about your project." You tried your best not to laugh at the name.

"Thanks. Can you please go and watch over Zoe? She has some drawing problems." You hoped he will be truly dealing with her and not paying on the conversation you will have.

"Of course. Love you." He said placing a kiss on your forehead. Mick just rolled his eyes and sighed. After John got out of sight, you smiled.

"Hello, Mick Lee." You giggled.

"Hi, (Y/N)." He smiled hearing your voice.

"So why did you call?"

"To discuss where we will meet. You didn't forget it, did you?"

"No, just teasing. So there is a café in the building I have the center of my company. We could meet there if it's good."

"It's perfect. And how are you?" Mick hoped you would at least talk a bit.

"Good. But I have to go. See you tomorrow." You hung up the phone and laid on the wall with your back. You closed your eyes and was thinking about what you will say to your husband. John was a good guy and you loved him with your whole heart but he could be quite overbearing sometimes.

The next day

You told John that you would have an urgent conference meeting and that you wouldn't be at home. He believed it since you were the CEO so it was almost a weekly routine. When you parked your car you said hello to the guard. From the outside, you could see Mick sitting in one of the booths. You entered the café and made your way to him. There was hardly anyone in the facility so no fangirls could ruin this meeting.

"Good morning, Mick. Sorry for being late, I had to drop Zoe to her grandma." You apologized. Mick stood up and helped you take off your coat.

"No problem. So how are you." He asked before the waiter approached your table.

"Good morning, Mrs. Smith and Sir."

"Hello, Richard." You looked up at him and was smiling on his face he made at Mick. "I would like the usual, please."

"Sure, miss. And you, sir?" He asked Mick.

"Black coffee. No sugar, no milk. Thanks." After Richard left Mick looked puzzled. "Why is he was looking at me like that?" He asked you.

"Cause he likes rock music so I assume you looked familiar to him." Mick hummed playing with his sunglasses on the table. "And I think he isn't used to seeing me with a company or other else than John."

"Your husband, I guess?"

"Yes." You answered not understanding why he was so concerned about him. You were supposed to stay single after you two broke up or what?

"Sounded like a cool guy." You raised one of your eyebrows. "Anyway, thank you for lying to him. He would be more suspicious now if you had told him the truth."

"So he knows you worked with us?"

"I had to tell him." You looked at him thinking back to those days. You missed the constant travels and concerts. "Cause he is a fan of you. He likes Mötley Crüe to the moon and back." Mick raised on his eyebrows and snickered.

"Well, that's awkward," Mick said.

"Don't make it even worse, please. I'm aware of it." You hid your face in your palms. You liked the way he made you laugh and being yourself. Whenever you were hanging out with John you had to be the strict and boss woman he fell in love with. He rarely saw your real side. The goofy and rocker self. Yesterday was one of the days you showed it to him. Richard broke the silence by handing out the coffees you ordered. He still had his on Mick.

"I'm sorry, sir but you are not...?" He asked rubbing the back of his head.

"Richard!" You snapped.

"It's okay, (Y/N). Well, I am."

"What, boss lady? He is Mick freaking Mars! You didn't him?" He was fangirling, well rather fanboying.

"I'm aware of who I'm talking to, you know."

"Can you please sign it, please?" Richard was holding his hat and Mick signed it happily. So much for no fangirl bothering us.

"Okay, Richard. Now you can fuck off. Thank you."

"Sure, miss. And thank you, Mr. Mars." You were glaring at Mick who was still smiling.

"What? He is a fan." He asked. You weren't angry because Richard asked for an autograph, but the fact he might tell about Mick to John. And you didn't want that.

"By the way, you already know almost everything about me. Now, I would like to about you." You took a sip from your cappuccino and were looking at Mick curiously.

"I would like to ask first." You sighed knowing he would somehow change the topic.

"What?"

"Why Zoe told in the shop that I'm on the wall?"

"I have already told you that. John is also a Crüehead."

"So I guess he attends concerts, too? With you?"

"He indeed attends. But not with me. I...I haven't been able to go to a concert since...since we broke up." You took the cup down on the table and felt your face burn. "After every concert when he talks about you and the guys, my heart just breaks, you know. I desperately wanted to be there with him, since your music was truly amazing. But I couldn't see you, the way those chicks looking at you from the crowd during the concerts after what happened. After what you did with one of them." You snapped, you felt the anger took over.

"What I did? You still don't know what happened right? Why would you know." He said loudly.

"Why, what happened?"

"That chick kissed me yes. But I had already refused her many times before telling her that I had you. Even Vince tried to help me but that bitch kissed. And you opened the door and then you already know what happened after." You were looking down feeling ashamed. "That's what I wanted to explain but you didn't even listen." Your hands were shaking and felt guilty. If you had listened to Mick, you would have been still together. Maybe have Zoe with him. It was your dream, but you had to face the truth.

"I'm sorry, Mick. I truly do. It was just so obvious to me. I couldn't imagine other reasonable reasons for you kissing that chick."

"Well, we can't change the past." He leaned closer and put his hand on yours on the table. "But we still figure it out, now. Together." Your heart skipped a beat feeling his touch.

"Do you have any ideas about what you are asking?" You snapped feeling the tears in your eyes. "You ask me to leave my husband, my daughter, my family. I just-just can't." You stood up and left the table. Mick didn't make the same mistake he did years ago. He didn't follow you then and maybe if he had been more persistent then he would have you now.

"I know all of that. I'm aware it's a lot to ask." You were shaking from the thing happening around you and from the cold. You were standing next to your car.

"You are talking about him, your husband if you wouldn't like him. For the fuck's sake, I'm sure you don't love him. I can see it."

"Don't fucking tell me who I love and not. You don't know anything about my present self. I'm a mother and I can't tear apart my family. I can't ruin her life. And I do like John. I also can't leave my job. I struggled a lot to get there where I am now." You sniffed. Mick stood closer.

"Shh. It's okay. Just calm down. I don't like seeing you cry." He said before cupping your face and kissing you. You gasped and didn't kiss him back at first. When you kissed him back later, he hummed surprising that you kissed him back. You almost melted in his hug. You were still in love with him, even if you didn't want to admit it.

"(Y/N)?" You heard your husband. The blood froze in your veins. You glanced at him and you could see him holding a bouquet of roses in front of you. Shit.

Next part!

tags: @leatherandheels

[nisaadventures]

I’m turning 30 in 10 days... yikes.

The last year of my life has sucked... lol. Okay, it wasn’t all bad. I’m exaggerating... but I’m also not. I know there were plenty of nice moments in the last year... but when I think about the last year of my life, its just full of so many firsts... awful firsts... 

First time celebrating their birthdays without them...

First holiday season without them... anyone else miss mom’s turkey? Most people don’t like traditional thanksgiving dinner because the turkey is more often dry... mom’s was never dry... Okay the key people.. Don’t actually cook your stuffing in the turkey. Its just going to suck all the juice life out of your bird... I mean come on. Trick #1 stuff the turkey with fresh cut oranges and yes, you can leave the skin on... #2 do majority of the oven time in an oven bag to keep the moisture in. #3 cook breasts down. Its the part thats usually most dry, so duh... keep it in the juicy, buttery goodness of the pan. I never made the entire meal, I usually just helped mom with everything. These are just some things I’ve taken away in my observations. 

Halloween trip to Disneyland without them... Disney is always a good time, but I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t feel heavy in some way... and that is saying something because Disneyland is my happy place lol. 

Looking forward to 2020... Hoping that it had so much better in store for us. 

Dear lord... what a joke. 

Going to Hawaii for our “family trip” without them...

A pandemic without them... I mean yes, I’m thankful they aren’t out there with COVID on the rise... I’m glad they’re not stuck at home because COVID. Mom and Michael are both too much of busy bees to be cooped up in the house for too long. 

Not going to lie... picking up where they left has been hard. All of moms plants... The dogs.. Taking care of the backyard, where Michael usually would. Mom would definitely do too much at once. She’d be out in the yard planting something and pulling out something else in her damn UGG boots! wth mom?! Those are expensive! lol. “Oh its fine.. I’ll wash them.” Omg lol. Either that, or she’d be over here trying to move heavy a$$ pots by herself and I’d have to stop her before she hurt her back. Ayiyi. 

Keanu and Aria’s birthdays without them... seeing my babies sad and missing their grandma, grandpa, and aunties has been hard. It will be out of nowhere sometimes... and all the nights of Aria waking up in the middle of the night crying. I feel you baby girl... I get it. I miss them too... Its okay to be sad... Mantras... 

You were her little rays of sunshine. Grandpa and grandma loved you SOOOO much. 

Mom would babysit the kids on Saturday mornings, while Kuya, Vaness, and I went to workout. They’d go get breakfast, pancakes and eggs, at UJs. She’d take them to Target, the dollar store, Walmart, etc. just so they could look and maybe get something to play with together. She always crafted with them. 

Living in this house... especially with COVID... has been hard. I miss just sitting at the dinner table, eating sho mi, and talking about work. Mom and Michael getting all worked up over some crazy manager, or something going down with the union.. yup, that’s where I get it from... advocacy and leadership skills FTW.  One thing they could always talk about for HOURS was work lol. 

I remember when I was a little girl, Mom would let me play in the bathtub until I was all wrinkled. She would let me bring all my toys into the tub. At one point I even had a care bear doll that she, for some reason, let me take in the bath lol. She’d throw it in the dryer for me after I was done. 

I remember going to the grocery store with mom and leaving with two full a$$ grocery carts because we had a full house at all times. I mean it was Kuya, my cousin Jojo, my brother Derric, my cousin John, Bubba, my cousin Jay, me and whoever else was over the house lol. When Kuya was in high school, it was all of his buddies partying at our house and crashing on the floor in the living room, dining room, and all the couches. She was the #1 host for sure.

“Are you hungry? Did you eat yet?” 

Thats love. 

All of Kuya’s high school friends called her Mom. My friends called her Mama Fern. She loved that. 

I remember playing hide n go seek in the dark in our tiny town house.. Later in the bigger house on Glenbriar... where mom actually tripped and broke her arm... But she laughed so hard she peed her pants, so she was a good sport? lol. Needless to say, we sort of stopped playing after that.

I remember making dim sum with mom for the first time. Such a hot mess, flour and food everywhere, but so fun. We definitely didn’t do that again until there were more adults around to help lol. Mom knew how to run through a kitchen like a tornado. Hot mess! but the best cook. 

Mom was always careful. She always wanted to make sure we were safe, that I was safe. I couldn’t go outside unless one of the boys was with me. When I would swim she would get nervous, even though I learned how to swim at a young age thanks to Kuya. One day, we were having a bbq, lots of family over, I was playing in the jacuzzi (drawing on the wall of the jacuzzi with a piece of chlorine... don’t play with chemicals kids lol) and she thought I was drowning? So she jumps her a$$ in there fully clothed and yanks my a$$ out. I was shocked as hell, so I naturally started crying hella hard and complaining about the fact that she scratched me when she yanked me up out of the water lol.

Keep in mind that that was not the first time one of the twins jumped into the pool fully clothed to “save” someone hahaha. 

 Speaking of fully clothed in the pool... The time auntie tripped and fell slo-mo style (that questionable, are you going to catch your balance, speed) into the pool LOL. Mom was dead laughing at her. Most hilarious video. 

Those twins lol. 

Jeeze.. speaking of the twins. They had this crazy connection. Tell me why when mom got sick with suspected viral meningitis and had to be hospitalized... Auntie straight up followed her right into the ICU with viral meningitis... 

Who remembers their 50th birthday? Talk about doing it BIG. So much fun. All the performances. Lani was there... KMA performances and kuya and John getting down for Maglalatik. Who doesn’t like seeing some half naked, buff dudes, bang coconuts together? haha. The twins getting down with their hula performance. Cute!

I remember when Mom and pops were going through their divorce and she would text me after midnight. I was going to Sac State and of course I was team NO sleep at the time. I would be in the AIRC studying. I’d comfort as best as I could from a distance... and then come home on weekends to be there with her when I could. 

She found her footing again. Started going to the gym with Kuya more... Started running all the time... all of her half marathons and finally she did the Nike Women’s Marathon. 

Hiking Half Dome with her. What.a.badass. 

That is really how I see her. She was so badass. When she was my age she had my 9 year old Kuya and I was on the way... She was working and supporting us and then eventually decided to make a better life for us, and went back to school... NURSING SCHOOL. wth. I can’t even imagine doing that right now, but reminding myself of where she has been and how much she PUT IN WORK... That keeps me grounded in the fact that we are responsible for our lives. If you want something, you have to work for it. You can’t just hope for better... you make better happen. 

I guess its that reminder... her strength... her and Michael’s love and hard work... That keeps me going. 

Being mindful... being thankful... acknowledging my own strength... 

But with that said... August has been increasingly hard. I don’t like to think about my birthday. I don’t even want to plan anything. They’re not here... I can’t celebrate with all my loved ones and friends. Thank you COVID... 

We’re just getting closer and closer to the anniversary? Nah.. lets not call it that... anniversary sounds like something nice... something to celebrate... This is NOT that. The day your loved ones are taken is not something to celebrate... I mean honestly, if I had to pinpoint the worst day of my life, that was it.... When I think about that day I can’t breathe. Terrible memories... so many sleepless nights. I’ve come so far. Its still hard, but I’ve come a long way. 

Anyway... this post is sort of random and nostalgic. Things I hold onto. Things that make me happy cry... Things that weigh heavy on my heart. 

Here’s my playlist for grief... reminders of them... collected over the last year:

Aloha for now -Kaleo Vai & Passion 

One day at a time -Jennifer Chung

In the end - Gabe Bondoc, Melissa Polinar, Passion

Round and around -Kolohe Kai

Fade Away -Rebelution

Alive -The Green

New Day -Kimie’

Angels above me -Stick Figure

Memories -Maroon 5

Wish you pain -Andy Grammer

100 -Katchafire

Everyday life -Coldplay

Out of the darkness -Isla vista worship, Bre Reed

Amen -Andra Day

Grateful -13 Crowns feat. Poo Bear

Rainbow Connection -Gwen Stefani

Be okay -ZOE worship 

With you -Eryn Allen Kane

Dont worry -Mesto feat. Aloe Blacc

Just livin’ -Sensi trails, Kbong

Remember me -Miguel, Natalia Lafourcade

Even more -Major

Let it be -Xav A.

Give Thanks -Iya terra, Stick figure

Mr. Sun -Sammy Johnson

Rest easy -Thrive, Nico of Tribal Theory

Sunny Days- Allen Stone

Today’s a new day -Common Kings

Mother’s Love -Jonah Jaxon, Micah G

The bones -Maren Morris, Hozier

Give you blue -Allen Stone

And we remain -Johnnyswim

Yellow -Kina Grannis

Streetcar -Daniel Caesar

Meant to be -Bebe Rexha, Florida georgia line

All you need to know -Gryffin, slander, Calle Lehmann

Like I’m gonna lose you -Jasmine Thompson

[maree-ff]

Waiting Game

CAMILA

Buttoning my pants up I called for the girls to meet me in my bathroom. The sound of their feet dashing through the house is refreshing. We finally moved back home after a long awaited renovation. The baby’s nursery is complete for the most part minus the miniscule details. 

“Nenas? Come here now, por favor?!” I said again. As I began to straighten my hair I felt the nausea kick in. I counted in my head and took deep and slow breaths to remain at ease. I’ve noticed that when I start to feel sick, I’ll panic and the sickness would hit me so much harder. “Oh baby..you’re giving your mama a hard time but it’s okay.” 

Taking one final minute to push back this nausea I met Zoe and Kenja’s curious eyes. 

“Are you okay?” The both asked in unison. 

“I’m fine. Are you two ready? We have to pick up grandma before we hit the road.” Picking up the straightener I zipped through my hair as the girls busied themselves in here. 

“Yes mom we are. What time do we-”

Kenja’s pants caught my eye and I instantly recalled the rules for visitors of the prison. “Mierda,” I exhaled. 

“Mom, what is it?” Zoe chimes in. 

Cupping my mouth in frustration I began to think of something else for her to wear. “You have to change mami, we can’t wear white remember? It’s one of the few colors we are not allowed to wear.” 

“What? Aw man. Do I have to? Pero me encantan estos pantalones!” Kenja freaked out and stormed off to her bedroom. Zoe and I stared at one another probably thinking exactly what I am. 

“She’ll change her pants. I think she’s nervous to see dad today.” Zo encouraged me to finish my hair which I need to. 

“Nervioso! Por que?” With one ear listening to Zoe tell me why her sister is nervous about today’s visit I used the other to zero in on everything else. From what I’m hearing, Ev gets really scared before we go into the prison and when we get home she cries in the bathtub. I’m going to assume that she’s sad about papi not being home alongside not knowing when he will come home. That’s a talk I need to have to Kenja alone to get the full story. 

“How did daddy get into trouble?” Zoe’s question took me by total surprise. 

“Um..” I’m conflicted on what to say. I don’t feel that it’s my place to speak on Andre’s conviction. I want for him to talk to our daughters about why he’s not home. In the same token these are my kids too and they deserve the honest truth. “What has papi told you so far?” 

Zoe fumbled through my makeup drawer, pulling out various lip pencils. “Nothing. Well he said he was betrayed but I don’t know what the means.” 

“Well baby that is a conversation I want you and Kenny to have with your daddy. Ahora, it won’t be easy for him because he feels bad for putting you two through this. The separation is hard for all of us little lady, it really is. I’m doing the best that I can for you girls and this baby in my belly. However, there are days when l want to lay around the house because I’m tired or overwhelmed pero I can’t. You have to talk to daddy about why and how he was betrayed. But ask him gently and with caution.” I spoke truthfully. 

Zoe toyed around in my belongings while I finished getting ready for this drive to visit Andre. Since my mother has been glued to my hip today, I’m having Divya come with me to the prison instead. I can see that  my mom needs a break and I know Divya would love to see her son. After about another the four of us finally made it into the car where traffic began to pick up steadily. 

“Are you doing alright? We can switch places if necessary. It’s alright sweetie, this drive won’t bother me.” Divya softly intervened in my thoughts. I turned to her and declined kindly.

“No mama, I’m alright. The focus is helping me clear my head.” Sighing, I pushed my bangs aside and glanced briefly in the rearview mirror. As usual the girls entertained one another with their toys and books. 

“I understand that. I know you girls are beyond thrilled to be back home as opposed to the apartment. Although, it was a really cozy place. Quaint too.” Divya added. 

“It was great for the being I have no complaints but I am so happy to be home. Verdad nenas?” Carefully reaching behind I playfully attacked my girls. 

“Yeah, super happy.” They joyously giggled at once. 

Hearing their laugh settled my deepest, inner nerves. I refocused on my drive drumming up some talking points with my beloved. 

“How are you doing? Your mother fills me in on the days we don’t speak. She also tells me how you feel afraid to open up because of Andre and I’s relationship.” Divya is literally in my mind. She’s damn good. 

“I just get nervous that I’ll overstep the boundaries and say something that comes across hurtful. I keep telling myself that I don’t resent Dre and that I’m not angry but there are days when I feel downright upset and disappointed. Not directly at him but at the nature of this messy situation. My love has never wavered and I stand by that. I’m just at a loss with compartmentalizing my feelings about all of this.” Taking a beat I veered in front of me, suddenly wanting to go back home and cry myself to sleep. 

“What if I say something and Andre misreads? Or worse? The last thing I want is for us to be divided. Especially in front of the girls. And with this new baby on the way...yeah we have to be civil, on the same page, and united at all times..” I threw in. 

“Aw sweet pea you just have to be honest with him the same way you always have been. I know for a fact Andre wouldn’t put either of you in any sort of uncomfortable position by any means. He can only do so much and get so upset. I’m not saying he deliberately asked to be this predicament but he knew the consequences of stepping back into those shoes.” Divya pointed out. 

“Yeah…” I dragged out. “He was well aware of the consequences but he also opened that door. He welcomed that margin of error for whatever reason he decided to try and put an end to this mierda. Thank you for coming with us today, I needed a break from my mom.” I shamelessly said. 

Divya snickered at my remark refuting how much she understands. She and I discussed the renovations I had done to the house, the baby and my plans for the remainder of my pregnancy, and the legalities of Andre’s stint. I can’t tell if it’s becoming more or less difficult to talk about prison time and being a solo parent. I would say the latter but then I’d be lying. In light of all of this my children remain a source of constant joy and motivation for me. Every move and sacrifice I make is the bettering of my kids.

[rollzerox]

Omg Mal’s fic said that Zoe hadn’t had a make over so that means she probably hasn’t had one since JinAe. You two seem to be tag teaming the Jinae stories so can you write Jeaha giving morgan a make over?

Sure thing anon!  Sorry this took me a while I’ve been kind of busy ^^; Just remember Morgan is @zenoobsessed ‘s ok everyone! This takes place a month after the one shot she did where Morgan cursed Jae-ha

How did she get talked into this? Morgan groaned as she was sitting in the chair, little Ryokuryuu Lina sitting in her lap making sure she couldn’t teleport away. It was just one slip up…. One little mention that she hadn’t had a makeover since Jin-ae and…

 “Oh come on Morgan dear, you’ll look stunning when I’m done.” The former Ryokuryuu, Jae-ha hummed as he placed his comb in his teeth to hold together while brushing his fingers through the mage’s rat’s nest of hair. It was worse than Yona’s who often grumbled about unruly hair but Jae-ha insisted on wanting to this, after all he was utterly grateful this woman had saved his life a month ago by cursing him. In fact he had found out a lot about Morgan in that time, thanks to Zeno and Morgan’s own slip ups.

 “So tell me more about this beautiful past life of mine.” Jae-ha hummed, taking the comb out of his mouth and working on her hair. “You said I was the queen and your adoptive daughter but what else? Zeno mentioned the first Ryokuryuu was my brother.”

 “You were a mess.” Morgan chuckled, playing with Lina’s pigtails. “Always getting into trouble. And swung your axe around at anyone that ticked you off, took three grown men to hold you down since you’d get kidnapped every other week and most times by the time we went to rescue you, you already broke out and beat your kidnappers head’s in.”

 Lina giggled. “Daddy sounds like he was silly as a girl!”

 “You once walked in on an important meeting Hiryuu had with the nobles, sat on his lap and gave him a hickey right there.” Morgan snickered. “I thought Abi was going to have a heart attack.”

 Jae-ha started laughing at that one. “Oh my, I so could see myself doing that to Yona dear. And I guess I couldn’t be a damsel in distress.”

 “You got a little carried away and nicked me once with it, you wouldn’t stop apologizing over it.” Morgan shrugged, unconsciously rubbing at her shoulder.

 Jae-ha frowned for a moment. “Oh I’m sorry dear, I’m sure I didn’t mean-“ he was cut off as Morgan placed a finger over his lips.

 “I literally had a lifetime of you apologizing so don’t start.” She rolled her eyes.

 The former Green Dragon smirked. “Mmmm I must have been cute apologizing for it.”

 That made Morgan laugh. “You were adorable. Hiryuu couldn’t ever stay mad or frustrated at you.”

 “The little miss still can’t get mad at her husband for long, even when he does stupid things.” Zeno said in passing, coming into the room of the inn they were staying in. “But then Hiryuu didn’t even get mad that time the queen and Shu-ten broke his crown.”

 “Wait what?” Jae-ha snorted. “You gotta tell me this Zeno!”

 Morgan groaned. “You stole all of Shu-ten’s beer and he decided to use the crown like a flipping frisbee throwing it at you.”

 Lina giggled. “Uncle Zeno said before Ryokuryuu loooove to drink a lot!”

 “Wasn’t my fault he didn’t hide it well.” Morgan shrugged. “But he totally thought I helped you find it with magic when really anyone could have found that easily it was a bad hiding spot.”

 “Well he should have hidden it from his lovely sister better.” Jae-ha hummed, then stopped brushing at Morgan’s hair for a moment to think about what he just said when he saw the look on Zeno’s face. “Please don’t tell me I said that to him.”

 The Ouryuu nodded. “You did and Shu-ten tried to hit you as you ran off with Lady Zoe.”

 Morgan smiled at the memory. “Hm, he was always leaving someone on the roof of the castle. He had such a bad attitude.”

 “Zeno seems to recall you two didn’t help.” Zeno replied rather deadpan.

 “Jin-ae only got worse because he kept calling Hiryuu a dumbass and she didn’t like that.” Morgan shrugged.

 “Well of course I wouldn't just stand by with a brother calling my lovely husband an idiot.” Jae-ha chuckled. “I imagine he only got away with that being a dragon and the queen's brother?”

 Morgan nodded. “Hiryuu was pretty easygoing anyway. Forgave people easily and understood they made mistakes. About that time was when a lot of unrest and distrust for mages started surfacing. He really drew people to him and having a mage like me in his court and serving beside him, well. That eased tensions a little…. Until I answered that damn letter…” she looked down, suddenly going silent.

 “Auntie….?” Lina looked up at her worried, the little girl had gotten so attached to the mage since she saved Jae-ha so Lina had come to start calling her auntie lately.

 Jae-ha twisted his mouth, Morgan didn’t like to talk much about her darker parts of her past and he didn’t press… After all he was similar in that sense so the group didn’t press her or ask too many questions how or why she lost her core when they met, just that Yona insisted they help her find it especially after Morgan saved Jae-ha’s life. That’s why they were traveling to Awa to take a ship out to Morgan’s home country in hopes of finding said orb. He did know from Zeno there was a mage war after Hiryuu’s time and that Morgan could have been part of that, but the Yellow Dragon didn’t know all the details. “Well that’s all in the past, all we can do is move forward yes?” he hummed, still combing through her hair. “Now stay still as I make my finishing touches please.”

 Morgan sighed, clutching Lina a bit tight now as she did stay still and stopped fidgeting as he continued to work on her. Jae-ha hummed a tune as he finished her hair, putting a clip in to hold it in place and stepping back to admire his handiwork. “I didn’t stay stiff as a board dear, really you didn’t have to take it to heart.” He chuckled. “All done, you can let Lina go now.”

 Morgan just gave him a weak smile. “Just playing.” She released the little Ryokuryuu, petting her on the head. “So how do I look? Ridiculous right?”

 Jae-ha snorted. “Whatever makes you say that?”

 “Because as Jin-ae that’s exactly what you’d do, luckily you don’t have access to poofy dresses or else I’d be poured into one.” Morgan rolled her eyes.

 “You could teach me how to get one here with magic.” Jae-ha hummed, his mischievous grin showing.

 “Nope, I am so saving that lesson until I have to show you.” Morgan snickered, getting up onto her feet. “Because otherwise who knows what you’ll teleport to your side.”

 “Oh? Maybe I’ll just tickle your mark until you scream.” Jae-ha grinned, brushing her hair to the side and focusing his hand right on that curse mark of hers, concentrating a tickle spell there that made her yelp, teleporting behind Lina and holding onto the little Ryokuryuu.

 “Lina protect me from your daddy!” Morgan whined, still giggling from the tickle spell. She shook her head, laughing also at the fact Jae-ha used that old threat that Jin-ae used constantly when she wanted something or was trying to make Morgan sleep.

 Lina giggled as she was held by the mage. “I’ll protect you auntie! I’m a dragon warrior after all!”

 Jae-ha laughed. “Oohhh really? Look treasure! Grandma Yoon has rice balls!” he pointed off in a random direction.

 “Oh? Zeno’s hungry!” Zeno looked up immediately.

 “Silly daddy I won’t fall for that!” Lina stuck her tongue out at him.

 Morgan’s stomach though growled reminding her she was reminded she hadn’t eaten in several days. “Maybe we should go check anyway huh Lina? We can go together.”

 Yona right then had come running up. “Are you guys done? Lunch is ready!”

 “Ooohhh just in time my darling.” Jae-ha hummed, picking up his wife and twirling around with her before laying a kiss on her lips. He had gotten twice as affectionate with Yona if that was even possible after getting new life in him. Thanking everyday for more time with his family since Morgan came into their lives. “Mmm maybe I should give you a makeover next as we plan the next baby…” he hummed as he put her down, rubbing her stomach that only had a small bump as of now.

 “Later.” Yona bopped his nose before pulling away to come over to Morgan. “Sorry if he got carried away.”

 “It’s ok, no worse than how he was as Jin-ae.” Morgan chuckled.

 “Mommy I found this pretty flower out here in the woods earlier!” Lina cheered, holding up a snapdragon flower and smiled wide. “Auntie said this flower you used to call daddy back when you were Hiryuu!”

 “Oh? Yona giggled. “That looks like a dragon flower, isn’t it?”

 “Antirrhinum.” Morgan answered with a nod. “Lord Hiryuu had a thing with giving people nicknames after flowers. Mine was Amaryllis.”

 “Such a beautiful nickname, you should use it sometime, princess of my heart.” Jae-ha purred into Yona’s ear from behind, sending a shudder through her body as she blushed.

 “My memories are jumbled enough as it is.” Morgan made a face. “God you two are so like Jin and Hiryuu it’s scary, I mean it makes sense but seriously.”

 “Well then maybe I should start calling you mom then!” Jae-ha purred, offering a hand to Morgan as they were heading back to their campfire. “Since you did adopt me in that past life you said.”

 Morgan snorted. “You only called me mother whenever you wanted something or when you were in trouble.”

 “More reason to make up for it!” Jae-ha hummed. “Besides I welcome it, never got the chance to call anyone that before.”

 That made Morgan wilt, she had some idea about Jae-ha’s past but hearing about it made her heart ache. “… If you want to, just don’t be surprised if I start calling you Jin-ae then, sexy trouble.”

 Jae-ha winked at her. “I more than welcome it, maybe we can get into some trouble together~”

[junietuesday]

OKAY I AM BACK FROM DEAR EVAN HANSEN

IT WAS INCREDIBLE!! STEPHEN CHRISTOPHER ANTHONY WAS ON TODAY (JULY 11 MATINEE) AND HE WAS SO GOOD OMG. THE ENTIRE CAST WAS SUPER AWESOME, I ESPECIALLY LOVED ZOE (MAGGIE MCKENNA) AND HER VOICE, IT WAS SO PRETTY. I WROTE DOWN EVERYTHING I COULD REMEMBER:

Act 1

In Sincerely Me it looked kinda like Jared was trying to find like any excuse to touch Evan, it was adorable, like he was draping his arm around Evan’s shoulders whenever he could and pushing his shoulders into Evan’s while he squatted down to write some emails, and then when he jumped into the dancing at the end he was slightly behind Evan and Connor onstage like he was trying to shove himself in and failing, and I also loved that Evan was mimicking Connor’s movements to show that he was really “Connor”

Before Anybody Have A Map:

Heidi: *growly-enthusiastic* Seize the day!

Evan: *same tone* I guess!

Before For Forever:

Evan: we went to the...apples. The apple place

Cynthia: ...the orchard?

In Disappear it was like Jared was trying to hide how enthusiastic he was to join the Connor Project and his “sarcastic” “well, shit!” when Alana said “you can be secretary or treasurer, sorry, co-president is taken” was like he actually was a little disappointed, and also before that he was like “soon this whole thing with Connor will be done with when there’s some third-degree tsunami we have to raise money for!” like he’s excited for when everything goes back to normal and he can be Evan’s only friend

Before Requiem Cynthia told Zoe “we’re all grieving in our own way, I know you truly miss him deep down” and Zoe opened her mouth angrily like she was gonna deny it then just shook her head and looked away and rolled her eyes

Zoe is no way straight with the way she was sitting on that couch in Requiem

During the climax of You Will Be Found with the projections of Evan’s speech all over, Heidi was wandering around the stage looking up at the videos confusedly, while Evan went up to Cynthia and hugged her for the longest time

Before Sincerely Me Jared was talking about how the secret email account and not talking to each other in school was the formula for gay lovers and I was like “you’d know about that huh”

I really loved the staging in Waving Through a Window where Evan’s classmates line up in a row and then every time he steps in front of them trying to get their attention, they flip and look away, by the end Evan is looking almost desperate

In Sincerely Me during the chorus Connor punched Evan’s shoulders on each side like really hard, then later Evan punched Connor back trying to like awkwardly mimic him but it was super weak like Connor barely even reacted

Before If I Could Tell Her the part where the music was already playing in the soundtrack passed by without anything from the band so I got scared they like, forgot to play or something but I guess they start the music later than they do in the recording

Zoe was like a ton more cynical than I thought she’d be, I really love it though it works well

When Jared Alana and Evan propose the Connor Project to the Murphys, after Evan invites Zoe and the jazz band to do something for the presentation and Cynthia says “oh Evan this is wonderful” while Zoe watches and Evan looks nervous under her gaze, Jared says pointedly, “no sweat! right, Evan?” and Evan stutters out an affirmative

There was so much startled laughter when Alana said “you broke your arm? oh my grandma broke her hip. the doctors said that was the beginning of the end. she died”

Evan takes Jared’s advice to nod and confirm super literally, during the scene before For Forever he nods super forced and fake-enthusiastically and says “mhm” or “yeah” again, super forced

Before Requiem (or maybe For Forever idk):

Cynthia: why was Connor embarrassed of you?

Evan: well, I mean, I think he didn’t want people to know he was friends with a—

Zoe: Nerd?

Evan: I was gonna say “loser” but that works too—better than works actually—

In If I Could Tell Her Zoe’s “no, nevermind, I don’t really care” was a lot more trying to sound aloof than in the recording, she’s pretending she’s just like “whatever” and pulls it off a lot better than Laura Dreyfuss’s Zoe

And then after If I Could Tell Her when Evan tells Jared about trying to kiss her on her brother’s bed, Jared’s like “oh she’ll hate you forever might as well just give up on her now” in a way that really came off to me as “yes now that she’s out of the picture maybe I have a chance?”

Act 2:

At one point—I think it was a bit before Good For You?—with projections of Evan’s letters all over the stage, there were bolded words “maybe better disappeared”

I CRIED DURING SO BIG/SO SMALL AND HEIDI AND EVAN ARGUING BEFORE GOOD FOR YOU AND LOOK I DIDN’T EXPECT THEIR SCENES TO HIT ME SO HARD BUT THEY DID

EVAN WAS LITERALLY SOBBING THE FIRST LYRICS OF WORDS FAIL AND I AM NOT OKAY, HIS ENTIRE WORDS FAIL PERFORMANCE WAS SO RAW AND PAINFUL HELP

Before Words Fail Cynthia was like brokenly “no, no, no” when Evan said Connor didn’t write the letters

Before Only Us Zoe said “let’s have a kegger” and Evan repeated it in a sillier voice and then they went back and forth a couple more times then they started doing this little leg-bouncy dance that holy shit kinda echoed the Sincerely Me leg bouncing

Zoe was perched on the arm of the couch really weirdly during the scene where the Murphys and Hansens meet and drink wine, again, totally not straight

Zoe went to hold Evan’s hands during Only Us, Evan really quickly wiped his hand on his jeans before holding her hands back

The part where Evan and Jared fought was really painful, when Jared said “fuck you, Evan! Asshole!” and ran off, and I’m also still not over how he was the only one to talk about “someone” hurting “whoever” in the third person during Good For You

Alana!!! Deserved!!! Better!!! She was practically crying during Good For You and those scenes where she tells Evan that the emails don’t line up, she didn’t even get a proper resolution, not even in the book (at least in the book Jared did)

When recording a video for the Connor Project, Alana was speaking clearly and well while Evan was just rambling really fast, sometimes he’d just echo what Alana said but quicker and quieter, for the closing sentence they started to say it together, Alana and Evan visibly—painfully—trying to match each other’s speed and tone, before Alana finally gave up and took over

As the play went on Evan started dressing like Connor, he was wearing Connor’s sweater by the end until he changed back for the finale

Jared looked so hurt when Zoe came up and kissed Evan on the cheek while Jared was talking about how much of a ~better life~ Evan was having now that Connor was dead, Jared was like “yeah. you’re really helping the Murphys” like he was trying hard not to sound like he cared *cough* KLEINSEN ALL THE WAY

In Only Us when Evan was saying “I love you” the first part was still facing the audience, then for the rest of the “I love you”s he turned to Zoe and got closer and closer to her, directing them at her instead of just saying “Connor didn’t know how to say this”

The Sincerely Me reprise was great, so like Jared and Connor were dancing together and Connor was saying “let’s have the Insanely Cool Jared Kleinman join this rad friendship!” and then just record scratch, freeze frame, Evan snaps “you can’t just make stuff up” and Jared looks into the camera like in the Office, and then when Jared like, what was it, invited Evan to his house or something idk, Evan was like “I can’t, I’m busy I have important things to do”, Jared’s visibly hurt when he says “oh yeah Connor’s the only important thing now”

During So Big/So Small, halfway through Evan just latches onto his mom and cries while she sings, I am not okay

Before Only Us Zoe’s like “can we talk” and Evan goes panicky “please don’t break up with me!” and then Zoe half-laughs “I’m not breaking up with you”, Evan awkwardly really slowly leans forward to touch Zoe’s hands and sighs in relief, “thank you”, Zoe mimicks him, “you’re welcome”, Evan looks kinda mortified

The You Will Be Found reprise literally felt like a panic attack/sensory overload it was intense and I loved it, also there was a loud whooshing sound before it cut to the Murphy’s living room and I literally jumped lmao

Evan was pretty much sobbing during the part where Connor said “did you fall? Or did you let go?”, I was almost in tears too

When Evan spit out “he didn’t write it!” even though I knew what was gonna happen I still gasped inside, and then afterward Zoe whispered “how could you do this?” in a total 180 from her earlier tougher cynical attitude

When Alana shares the “suicide note”, she’s beside Evan on the other side of the stage, the note pops up all over the projections and recordings start reposting and sharing it, Evan is literally brokenly begging “don’t show anyone, take it down, please”

[hellimagines]

18 Months (Part Six) -- Michael Langdon

Masterlist

Summary: You abandon your coven in favor of Michael, as the two of you officially begin your journey together.

Warnings: the killing of a goat

Pairing: Michael Langdon x fem!reader

Word Count: 6,000+

A/N: This wasn’t as angsty as I was hoping it’d be, but it’s still got a bit of hurt.

18 Months Masterlist

“(Y/N), what is it?” Michael questioned again, keeping his voice as gentle as possible. You continued to stare at him, trying to formulate a response in your head.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whispered, looking into his blue eyes with a mixture of hurt and confusion. “I would’ve understood, I would’ve… I would’ve…” you fumbled, finally looking away from Michael. You didn’t know what you would’ve done if Michael had told you the truth about him, but it would’ve been better than finding out through your mom.

“Tell you what?” he asked, resting his arm on top of the couch. Michael knew that you were now aware of who -of what- he was, but he wanted to hear you say it. He wanted the words to come tumbling out of your mouth while you looked at him.

“Antichrist. You’re the Antichrist, and you didn’t tell me,” you clarified, standing up quickly. “Why didn’t you-”

“You really believe I could’ve just told you that I’m the spawn of Satan himself?” Michael scoffed, standing up as well. “And how might’ve I started off that conversation? ‘Hello, I’m Michael, I’m the Antichrist, let’s be friends’?”

“I don’t see why not!” You threw your arms out in frustration, turning your back on Michael. “I don’t like you because of your powers, or because you’re -no- were, the Alpha. I don’t like you because we have a hot and cold dynamic and some psychic bullshit. I like you because you’re you. Whether you’re the Antichrist, a warlock, the Alpha, or just a normal guy, doesn’t matter to me, Michael. It never has, and it never will. You should’ve trusted me, the same way I’ve trusted you.” Your voice cracked near the end of your rant, and you could feel your nose begin to burn with hot tears, as a wave of emotion washed over you. You couldn’t tell if you were sad, angry, or somewhere in between, but you were definitely hurt.

Michael stepped forward so that his chest was pressed to your back, and placed his hands on your hips. He dropped his head, his forehead coming to rest on your shoulder, as he took a shaky breath. “I didn’t know how. I’ve never had someone like you in my life before, and I didn’t want to ruin it. Ruin us. Nobody treats me the way you do, (Y/N), they don’t have the courage. In the past month we’ve known each other, I’ve felt as though I’ve known you my entire life. Since the dawn of creation. I’ve never felt this way before, and I couldn’t risk it.” Michael’s voice was quiet against your shoulder, and you had to slow your breathing in order to hear him better. Every so often, a wet drop would hit your shoulder, before slowly sliding down your collarbone. Michael was crying, because of you.

“I told you I wouldn’t leave. I promised, that no matter what happened, I’d stay by your side,” you whispered, reaching up to run a hand through his tousled hair. Michael sniffled, his grip tightening on your hips. “I need you to trust me, Michael. I’m not one of your followers, I’m not apart of the council, I’m not someone from your past. I’m your friend, and friend’s don’t lie. I’m not going anywhere, but we have to sort this out.” You turned in his arms, grabbing ahold of his face and forcing him to look at you. Michael’s eyes were bloodshot, tears continuing to stream down his face in a steady line. “Talk to me. For real, this time.”

“B-but, Cordelia… she told you to go home,” Michael said, reaching up to hold onto your hands. He looked so vulnerable, that you could hardly believe you were cupping the face of the Antichrist.

“That’s not important right now. Mallory is becoming the new Supreme, supposedly, but that’s not something I want to celebrate. I’m focused on you, Michael, not her, and not my mom. The coven can wait. Now come on.” Grabbing onto his hand, you brought Michael back to the couch and sat him down beside you. “I’m listening.”

Michael stared at you, his eyes wide with shock. You could tell he was processing your loyalty and all you had said, so you sat patiently, still holding onto his hands. “I was born in 2012,” Michael began, the suddenness startling you slightly, “in Los Angeles. My mom, my real mom, was Vivien Harmon. The man who raped and impregnated her, creating me, was Tate Langdon, a dead, teenage ghost. Things kind of get messy with that because even though Tate is my father, he’s… not. The house I was born in, where they all lived, was home to evil. That evil was inside Tate and is my true father. It’s not worth the headache trying to explain further on that.” You nodded in understanding, running a soothing finger over Michael’s knuckles.

“After I was born, my grandmother, Constance Langdon, took me and raised me for three years. That’s when I killed the babysitter and the priest. Somehow, I grew overnight- literally. I looked ten physically, but after that night, I looked about fifteen, maybe sixteen. A short while after that, my grandma… she uh, she killed herself,” Michael’s voice grew softer, his gaze downcasted as he remembered everything that happened to him. “I moved back into the house I was born in, where a man, Ben, helped raised me for a short while. But then, Ms.Mead showed up, along with two other cardinals. They were from the Church of Satan, and they were the ones who told me who I was. Who I was meant to be. Ms.Mead raised me after that, and she became my one true ally… until you. Throughout time, I learned of my power, and what I could do. The warlocks found me after the butcher incident and helped my powers grow. I still don’t know all I’m capable of, but I’ve become stronger than I ever used to be.” Michael finished his story with a hefty sigh, finally lifting his gaze to look at you. “I’ve hurt people, I know that. But you, you I would never hurt. I could never hurt you, (Y/N) Goode.”

“I know, Michael. You’re the Antichrist, so what? That doesn’t have to define you. If you wanna be evil, then be evil. If you wanna be good, then be good. But don’t let anybody tell you what you need to be- make that choice on your own,” you said, holding onto his hands tightly.

“Will you stay with me, regardless of my choice?” Michael asked, letting go of one of your hands so he could place the palm of his hand against your cheek. You hesitated, searching his eyes for anything that might lead you astray.

“Yes.”

The next morning, you sat by yourself in the bathroom. The shower was on, steam filling the room, but you had no intention of getting in it. You just needed a moment to think- alone. You had abandoned your mother, your best friend, your mentor, your home, your coven, for Michael. And you still had no idea what the hell you were doing. You had your phone clutched in your hand, thumb pressed against the ‘on’ button, as you waited for it to come back to life. You had to talk to your mom, you had to explain to her what had happened, and why you wouldn’t be coming back. The home screen of your phone glowed in your face, and with shaky fingers, you unlocked it. Instantly, floods of texts and missed calls blew up your phone. You stared at the neverending flashing notifications with wide eyes, until finally, they stopped.

You read through each of the texts, varying from Madison, to Zoe, to Queenie, and even Mallory. Cordelia and Myrtle had called you many times, leaving voicemails each time. Even two of the warlocks, Behold and John Henry Moore, had tried to contact you. Each voicemail and text held the same context: Michael was a horrible person, he had killed people, he was going to kill you as well, he was being groomed to take of the world, and so forth. You deleted each message with an angry swipe until finally, your phone was void of last night’s events. Quickly, you typed in your mom’s contact name and called her.

“(Y/N) Goode! Where in the hell are you!” It only took a second for Cordelia to answer the phone, her angry voice coming through instantly.

“Somewhere. I’m not coming home, mom. I’m not leaving him.”

“Like hell. We have Michael’s allies in our custody, and they will be burnt at the stake at noon. (Y/N)... please, don’t do this to me. Come home, and this will all be forgotten.”

“Burnt? You’re burning them alive? Mom, you can’t!”

“I am. Don’t join his side, (Y/N), you’ll get hurt.”

“Michael wouldn’t let anything hurt me.”

“You sound like a stubborn child in middle school for Christ’s sake! Now is not the time for rebellion, young lady. The world is in danger because of that boy, and I refuse to watch my daughter burn.”

“Then close your eyes.”

You ended the call immediately afterward, your breathing quick and shallow. You could never go back. You knew that now, after that call, that you could never go back home. You had given up everything for Michael, but you could only hope that it was the right choice.  

After shutting off the shower and splashing some cold water on your face, you exited the bathroom. Michael was sat on your shared bed with his elbows digging into his bare thighs, and his hands gripping his hair. He was naked except for a pair of black boxer-shorts, and you could see each ripple of muscle, pudge of flesh, and mark of imperfection. Michael’s shoulders shook as he sat on the bed, his knuckles a bright white from gripping his hair so hard.

“Michael? Michael, what’s the matter?” you asked, pocketing your phone and coming to stand in front of him. Michael lifted his head to look at you, and you were shocked to see the amount of anger in his eyes. “What happened?”

“My Ms.Mead… she called,” Michael hissed, his voice cracking with the amount of anger lacing his words. “She told me what they’re going to do to her. What your coven is going to do.” Michael suddenly stood up, forcing you to stumble back so you wouldn’t knock heads. “They’re going to kill her, (Y/N)! They’ll burn her alive, and it’s all my fault,” he croaked, staring down at you.

“No, no it’s not, Michael. We can fix this, handsome. I know where they do the burnings, we can go and we can stop it from happening,” you said quickly. “They’re going to do it at noon, so we have to leave now.”

“You’d go against your coven like that?” he whispered, his eyebrows furrowing. “Why?”

“Because, Michael. Just… just because, alright? Trust me.” Michael nodded and grabbed onto the back of your head, tugging you close. He kissed the top of your hair, and held you against him for a moment, before letting you go.

“Let’s go.”

Michael’s movements were slow and sluggish as he walked up to each pole. Bodies, burned and charred, had been tied to each pole, before crippling to the floor once the flames had consumed them. Each pole he walked up to, he’d touch the charred bodies with a shaky hand. His eyes would flash for a split-second before he was startling backward and moving to the next one. Until finally, he walked up to the third pole.

You stood a few feet in front of Cordelia, watching the scene teary-eyed. You could feel Michael’s hurt, with the amount of heat coursing through your body, it was unmistakable. After Michael touched the third body, he was tripping backward, and practically into your arms. A strangled cry fell from his lips as he threw his arms and his head back, and you were forced to wrap your arms around his waist to keep him from totally collapsing.

Slowly, you lowered him to the ground, making sure to keep his hands as far away from his hair as possible. From what you’ve seen the past week, Michael had a tendency of grabbing at his hair when emotions hit him, causing him migraines. You looked up at Cordelia with betrayal, letting Michael grip your hands so tightly, you thought they’d break. Tears ran down his face as Michael sobbed in your arms, your body burning so hot, you had no idea if it was from Michael or your own anger.

“It’s over,” Cordelia suddenly spoke, catching Michael’s attention. “We know who you are. Your allies are all dead. You failed.” She stood above the two of you, holding her umbrella to block her from the New Orleans sun.

“I’ve already proven to you I can defy death. I’ll just bring her back,” Michael sniffled, staring up at Cordelia with red eyes. “And when I do, my Ms.Mead will stand by me as we watch you burn.” Your heart tugged at Michael’s words, while you looked between Michael and Cordelia.

“You can certainly go to Hell, but you won’t find her there.” Michael looked up in shock, releasing your hands.

“What have you done?” the blond choked.

“Her soul is hidden by a spell only I can break,” your mother explained, causing Michael to let out another cry. “You’re alone.”

“No, he’s not,” you said instantly, holding Michael protectively. Even though you could never do anything to hurt your mom, you wouldn’t let her do anything to hurt him, either. “He has me.”

“(Y/N), now is not the time. Stand up,” she gritted, holding out her hand. She turned her attention to Michael, her hand still outstretched. “You don’t need to take this path, the one your father has laid out for you. You can write your own destiny, you can still turn away. There’s still humanity in you, I see it. If you come with me, I can help you find it.” Michael looked up at Cordelia with puffy eyes, lips, and a sniffling nose. Slowly, he turned his gaze from her, to you, for the first time.

“Remember what I said,” you whispered, running your hands through his hair carefully.

Michael looked back at Cordelia and broke himself out of your hold. He reached up, slowly grabbing onto Cordelia’s hand, and let her pull him to his feet. You stood up quickly as well, standing just to the side of the two of them. Once Michael was standing, his grip on Cordelia’s hand tightened, and he was yanking her forward. Instinctively you reached out to stop him, but halted once you saw he wasn’t going to hurt her.

“Someway,” he began, voice seething, “somehow, I will bring her back. And when I do, I will destroy you all.” You stared at Michael in shock, guilt, and worry. Your mom looked at him with wide eyes, fear slowly seeping into her orbs. Once he had gotten his point across, Michael released her. He looked over at you, a silent plea that you understood, before turning on his heel and stalking away.

“(Y/F/N) (Y/M/N), don’t you dare,” Cordelia growled, looking over at you with a dangerous glare. Michael continued walking, and you knew that you had a split second to decide.

“I have to. You don’t understand, mom… there’s something between us that you don’t understand,” you whimpered, slowly backing up.

“You’re a young adult, I don’t think you understand. If you go after him, you will never come back to my coven. To your home. This is it, (Y/N),” your mother warned.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered, before you were running after Michael, and clasping onto his hand. Your heart ached with all you had just left behind, and it took everything in you not to cry. You needed to be strong for Michael- he just lost everything, too, but unlike you, he didn’t have a choice. You had no right to cry, not when someone else was hurting more than you. So with an angry swipe under your eyes, you held your high, willing your heart to slow its panic.

“You didn’t have to,” he said quietly, his voice weak despite his previous warning to your mom.

“I did, Michael. Don’t make me regret it.”

A few days later, you found yourself trudging through the woods alongside Michael. The sun was beginning to set, its golden hues streaming through the trees. The grass and dirt around you was dry and itching at your ankles as you walked. You ducked under branches and fallen trees, and climbed over logs and rocks. You weren’t expecting to be going on a hike days after abandoning your coven, but thankfully you were in your typical attire of combat boots, black jeans, and a tank-top. You and Michael hadn’t been able to eat or drink anything since you stepped into the woods late last night. You had walked -and hitchhiked- from Louisiana to California in roughly four days, but Michael still hadn’t told you why, and you were growing irritable.

“We’re almost there,” Michael grunted, helping you duck under another tree.

“Where the fuck is ‘there’, Michael? Narnia?” you huffed.

“Lose the attitude, little fox.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you snapped, walking ahead of him. Michael didn’t let you get three steps, before he was snatching your hand and tugging you back.

“Nu-uh. I’m leading the way,” he ordered, moving to walk in front of you. He kept ahold of your hand, making sure you didn’t go anywhere. Pine cones littered the forest floor, and as you walked, Michael reached up to loosen his tie.

“Just take it off,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he mocked, looking over his shoulder to stick his tongue out at you. You let out an indignant noise at the immature action, narrowing your eyes.

Finally, after another half-hour or so, the two of you came to a clearing atop a hill. Trees encircled the area, with the sun casting the ground in a warm yellow. Michael dropped your hand in favor of picking up a rock, and you watched as he began to draw a messy circle in the dirt.

“What the actual fuck.”

“We’re not going any further!” he shouted into the air, standing up with a heavy sigh. “Father, tell me what to do, and I’ll do it!” Michael looked around for a moment, before bending back down. “We’re not leaving this circle until you tell me. They’re all gone- the warlocks, my Ms.Mead…” he said, drawing a line down the side of the circle. “Burned alive at the stake, by the witches. All I have left is (Y/N). Tell us what to do!” he shouted, drawing a horizontal line to cross the other one. He added one more until an ‘A’ was drawn in the circle. “You tell us what to do, or let us die here.”

“Excuse me?” you gawked, staring at him with wide eyes as he dropped to his knees.

Michael held out his hand to you, “come, fox.” You hesitated, before sighing and grabbing his hand. You let him pull you into the circle and down to your knees in front of him. “Trust me,” he whispered, running his fingers over your cheek.

“You know I do, handsome.”

You didn’t know you’d be trusting Michael for four days, without food or water, trapped in a dirt-drawn circle. As the days went by, you found yourself growing weaker. Michael seemed to be growing more insane, and combined, the two of you weren’t doing so well. Thankfully, you had each other, and you could only imagine Michael out here on his own. You were both covered in dirt and mud, and countless bruises and scratches caused by petty, three-minute fights.

Now, four days after you arrived at the clearing, you were at your lowest point. Michael was on his knees, his dress pants dirtied to the max. You had your head in his lap, allowing him to bend over you and cradle you close, ignoring his desperate pleas and mumbles for his father. But suddenly, Michael straightened up and turned to look at something behind him. You paid him no mind, continuing to run one hand up and down his leg while the other drew mindless shapes in the dirt.

“N-no, I’m, I’m on a m-mission,” Michael suddenly spoke, causing you to look up at him. He stayed quiet for a minute, before talking again. “I need to talk to my father,” he said, pointing to himself.

“Babe, who the fuck are you talking to?” you groaned, pushing yourself into a sitting position. You rubbed at your face, smearing more dirt into your skin and injuries.

“The children,” he whispered. “Leave me alone,” he whimpered, throwing his hand out. He wasn’t talking to you, that much you could tell, but you weren’t aware of who he was talking to. “You’re not real. None of this is re-real,” he whimpered, shaking his head.

“Michael, it’s okay,” you said, trying your best to comfort him.

“No… no, I failed. I’m lost, I don’t understand my purpose,” he spoke, looking up to a tree in front of him.

“Michael, listen to me-“

“Liar!” he suddenly shouted, startling a scream out of you. He shot up and ran towards the edge of the circle, shooting his arm out and squeezing his hand around the air. However, a moment later, he was crying out in shock and stumbling backward, tripping over you. He fell to the floor, and you had no choice but to kick him for the pain he caused your shoulder.

“Watch where you’re going! Hallucinate in your own space!” you shouted down at him, rubbing at your shoulder. Michael fell to his back, his arms spreading out around his head. “Jesus Christ, we have to stop this,” you whispered to yourself. Michael sat up suddenly and turned around, the two of you coming face-to-face with a black goat. “Oh.”

“Are you my father?” he questioned, tilting his head.

“Michael, no.” Before you had time to react, Michael was rearing back with a knife in his hand. Where he got the knife, you weren’t sure, but as he plunged it into the goat’s abdomen, you couldn’t help your sudden shout- “Bro!”

Michael began ripping the goat's horns from its head, throwing each one to the side. Watching the blood spurt out of the side of the goat’s head, suddenly forced all the stress from the past week to come hurling out of your throat. You clutched your stomach as you vomited onto the earth, while Michael stared down at the goat with a crazed look in his eyes. You whimpered as nothing but dirt, blood, and stomach acid came up, ripping through your esophagus on its way.

“What do you fucking want from me?” Michael shouted at the sky once again, throwing his arms out.

“To fucking leave!” you shouted back at him, only to cough up another glob of blood. Michael turned around to look at you, his eyes suddenly clearing.

“(Y/N)?” he whispered, as though he was seeing you for the first time in days. “(Y/N), what happened, are you okay?” he said hurriedly, rushing to your side. Despite the blood that covered his face and his clothes, Michael didn’t hesitate to bundle you up in his arms, pulling you close.

“I’m sick, Michael, and so are you. We need to leave. We have to. We need to find a town, and figure out what we’re going to do. Satan can’t help us anymore, it’s up to us,” you cried, reaching up to roughly grab at his face. “Please, babe.”

“Okay. Let’s go to California, I know an old congregation Ms.Mead used to tell me about,” he complied easily, nodding hastily. “It should only take us a day, maybe less.”

“Okay,” you croaked, slowly pushing yourself to your feet. Michael held onto you, letting you drape an arm over his shoulder.

“Can you walk?” he asked, even as the two of you began taking a couple of steps. You nodded weakly, despite the black spots swimming in and out of your vision. “No, you can’t.”

“Fuck you, I’m walking aren’t I?” you snapped, pulling your arm away from him. You took a few defiant steps, determined to walk on your own, until your knees were suddenly buckling below you. Before you hit the ground, Michael was catching you, and slowly lowering the two of you to the ground.

“Stop being so fucking stubborn,” he scolded, checking you for any dangerous injuries, despite his catch.

“Suck my fucking ass.”

“Get on my back, you brat,” Michael growled, trying to maneuver your body to do as he wished.

“Stop that, I’ll do it myself,” you huffed, swatting at his hands. With a heavy puff of air, you moved onto his back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and legs around his waist. “You’re just as weak as I am, is this such a good idea?”

“I’m the Antichrist. I don’t fucking do weak.” Michael stood up once you were situated, staggering to his feet. “Alright. Let’s go,” he nodded, before making his way through the forest with you secured on his back.

As Michael said, a day later, the two of you were walking down a dirty alley in the midst of California. After you had left the woods, you had made your way to the closest gas station, and thanks to Michael, you went undetected by the cashier. With Michael and yourself covered in blood, injuries, and dirt, you doubted an interaction would’ve gone over well. You managed to pocket a few snack items and water bottles while the cashier was under Michael’s watchful gaze, making sure to stay out of sight of any security cameras. It gave the two of you enough fuel to make it to the congregation Michael spoke of, albeit late and dirty.

You limped down the alley, hand-in-hand with Michael, your lungs adjusting to the dirty air. You came to a stop in front of a man guarding a door. “You lost?” he questioned, eyeing the two of you with great suspicion. Michael laughed weakly, looking down at you with a lazy smile as he shrugged his arms. The man nodded and opened up the door for the two of you. You looked up at Michael, but he was already limping towards it, tugging you along with him. You both made your way down a set of iron stairs, following the sounds of chanting.

“People,” the faint echo of a woman called out to you, “listen the fuck up. Just because we have a president that’s a total douchenozzle, and global warming is getting worse, doesn’t mean you can sit on your lazy asses, and throw out a few ‘Hail Satan’s’.” As you rounded a corner, you came to an opening. Inside were rows of pews, red walls, and a woman walking along the front of the room. “You think the end-times are just gonna show up like a goddamn herpes sore? I’m so tired of preaching to the choir.” The two of you slowly walked into the room, Michael intently listening to the woman speak. “What don’t you get? You know the drill,” she sighed. “The Antichrist is going to come walking in here on a wave of sin, and all we have here is a weak piss dribble!”

“Does that make me the sin?” you whispered quietly into Michael’s ear, causing his lips to twitch into a brief grin.

Michael tugged on your hand, pulling you into the back pew with him. There was one other woman sat there, but she didn’t pay the two of you any mind. The woman up front continued to complain and rant about the lack of sin in the room, but you didn’t listen very closely. It felt so good to finally sit down on something other than the ground. You sunk into the pew gratefully, immediately resting your head on Michael’s shoulder. Michael continued to listen intently, however, absentmindedly wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You dozed in and out of wakefulness for the next couple minutes, until Michael’s voice startled you back into the present.

“We don’t have any money right now,” Michael grumbled, tucking you further into his chest. You grunted at the movement, pushing against him so you could see who he was talking to. When you looked up, you were surprised to see tear tracks on his face.

“Or any food by the looks of it… when was the last time you two ate?” the lady who sat beside you asked, handing over a bowl of money to the pew in front.

“What’s it to you?” Michael snapped, looking over your head with a blank face. You hit him lightly, scowling at his sudden attitude.

“Just trying to help out some fellow believers,” she sighed. “You know, after the service, I could fix the two of you something. My place is only a couple blocks from here.”

“That’s actually really kind of you,” Michael sniffled, loosening his hold on you once he determined she wasn’t a threat.

“We’d appreciate that,” you agreed, smiling at the woman as you straightened up. “Thank you.”

After the service, the kind lady did as she promised, driving you and Michael to her home. She brought the two of you inside and into her dining room, before going to fix the two of you something to eat. You sat beside Michael at the table, anxiously bouncing your leg as you looked around the room. Michael’s hand came to grip your knee, stilling your movements and causing you to look up at him.

“Relax, fox. You know I won’t let anything happen to you,” he smiled, shaking his head a little.

“I know, I know. Just everything that’s happened…” you sighed, running your hands over your face and tugging at your hair. “I haven’t processed any of it. We’ve been on our own for over a week, stranded in the woods for almost six days, and now we’re in a strangers house. So much has happened, and I don’t know what to do,” you breathed, looking at him while chewing on your bottom lip. Michael opened his mouth, with the intent of reassuring you, but then the lady was coming back into the room with an armful of food. She placed down a board of bread and handed you each a bowl of soup.

“Thank you,” you smiled, twisting the spoon in the bowl nervously.

“What are your names?” she asked, slowly sitting herself down across from Michael, as he instantly began devouring his bowl. You took your time, knowing your stomach was already sensitive, and that eating too much would make you even sicker than you already were.

“Michael,” he spoke immediately, shoveling another spoonful into his mouth. “That’s (Y/N).” He nodded in your direction, keeping an eye on you until you had taken a bite of your soup.

“You must’ve been starving,” she said, referencing Michael’s hasty eating. She looked over at you, tilting her head slightly. “Is something the matter?”

“N-no… Just don’t want an upset stomach,” you said sheepishly, taking another bite to appease Michael and the lady. She nodded in understanding, giving you a gentle smile, before turning back to Michael. He was opening up more than you, so you were grateful for the change in focus.

“I see a lot of kids like you come into our church, off the five stars on Yelp, and the free doughnut at check-in.” You almost choked on your soup at how accurately she had guessed the last week you had spent with Michael. “They all have the same look you do. Scared… searching. Questioning what the hell this all means.” She vaguely gestured around the room, before lighting a cigarette between her fingers. “So, what’s your story? How did two lovebirds like you end up all alone, and at our beloved Satan’s doorstep?”

“Oh no, we’re not-”

“My father abandoned me,” Michael began, interrupting your correction. You scowled over at him, harshly kicking his ankle under the table. “And my mother tried to kill me,” he scoffed, squeezing your knee tightly in retaliation of your kick. The lady looked to you for your story, and you couldn’t contain your sigh.

“Disowned by my mom.” Was all you said, before staring down at the full bowl of soup in front of you.

“Humanity… is shit. This world is a twisted black hole of sin and chaos. And that’s why Satanism is the future,” she smiled, nodding at the two of you. “We are the fastest growing religion in the world, so we need people like you -bright, eager, the next generation- to help spread the word of Lucifer. ‘Cause here’s the beautiful secret, babes; once you embrace, that at our core, we are degenerate, rotten beings -every last one of us-, you’ll be free. Satanism, is about giving in to your urges, embracing sin, your true nature. I sold my soul to the devil, and he gave me everything I ever wanted.” Michael looked up sharply at her confession, his grip falling lax on your knee.

“You sold your soul?” you asked, looking at her curiously.

“Did you sign a contract in blood?” Michael snickered, shaking his head.

“I made a deal in a Black Mass, as one does. Through prayer, and by prayer, I mean killing people- it works! You’re standing in the proof. I offered up my soul, and he gave me r this. Riches beyond compare!” she chuckled darkly, before quickly standing up and walking into the living room. She listed off everything she had been granted, smiling as Michael stood to follow her. You twisted in your chair, watching the two of them closely.

“...On Friday nights, I get Ryan Reynolds,” she finished, waltzing back to join you at the table. You stared at Michael, and how his shoulders visibly sunk at her words.

“So that’s all it is, then… Satan is carnal pleasure,” he grumbled, trudging over to sit back beside you. You patted his thigh reassuringly, smiling to yourself when he rested his hand on yours.

“Oh no,” she laughed, shaking her head. “We’ve got a greater purpose. We are moving towards the beginning of the end. Our Saviour is coming. The spawn of Satan will rise, and lead us off the cliff and into the end-times!” she declared, raising her hand as she spoke. “We just have to make things terrible enough for him to rise. We, are the fetid, rancid, contaminated soil, from which he will bloom. And then plunge us in eternal darkness, so that we can walk with Satan in eternal hellfire.” By the end of her rant, she was panting and staring at the two of you with a gleam in her eyes.

“Oh boy,” you whispered under your breath, rubbing at your temple.

Michael stared at her with a raised eyebrow, his expression filled with boredom. “I hate to break it to you… but you’re waiting in vain.” You winced at Michael’s words, already figuring out your escape plan in your mind. Michael reached for another slice of bread, only for the board to be swiped away. As the lady stood up, you handed Michael your bowl, though you were sure there wasn’t going to be any more time to eat.

“What’re you talking about,” she growled, glaring down at the both of you.

“I’m the one you’re waiting for,” Michael sighed, his voice coming out in a mocking matter. You heard the unmistakable sound of a knife leaving the cutting block, and the lady’s enraged voice echo around the room.

“How dare you blaspheme!” she yelled, rushing towards Michael. She grabbed onto his hair, and tilting his head to the side- but before she could hold up the knife, you were gripping onto her arms and yanking her away.

“Well, before you kill me, dear believer, see me,” Michael huffed, tilting his head even further to the side. You released her hand not holding the knife, watching her eyes widened in shock. Her hand shot out and moved Michael’s hair to the side. A scar, in the unmistakable shape of 666, laid right behind Michael’s ear.

“Hey, why haven’t I seen that before?” you pouted, fully releasing the lady as she stumbled back with a gasp.

“Not now, (Y/N).”

“Hail Satan! Our savior has risen!” the woman chanted, falling to her knees while you sank back into your chair, and held onto Michael’s hand.

Michael Langdon 18 Months Taglist (OPEN): @omg-luv4lyfe-universe @hesvoid34 @winchesterbloodxxxx @justanotherdaydreamersoul @frozenhuntress67 @michaels-slut @buckynatlarry @sweetcredence @crybabycth @very-aesthetic-pineapple @rainbowxmisa @xbutterflykisses78x @sherlokid7 @hexqueensupreme @kaliforniacoastalteens @xlangdons-evilbabygirlx @madhatterweasley @skullchik89 @assgardiangoddess @booyouwhoreee @kerouacsroad @moonagecordelia @valentinevirgo @aliahemmings97 @becca-in-outer-space @supersoldierballerina @quione3 @hxdesworld @multi-madison @lanijoyxo @bookwormstrawberry @killcort @shado-cat @heartjuliehart @alex--awesome--22 @scarletraine @x-idontknow-x @ourcielapologist @queenie435 @meeeeeeeeeps @goofyredpanda @naughtykpopthoughtz @daydreamin1220 @thewritten-angel @kayylluhh @x-i-a-t @howaboutanap @sidemans @divinelavellan @callbellaforagoodtime @bara-rose-would @geminiogy @la-gordita-mas-bonita @vampires0 @msjamesmarch @fand0msgal0re @saddbxtchh @nerdyalienhybrid @weeabootie @vikingsimaginesandthangs @sexxxychiq @al-chanyeol-mae @thatbatshitcrazyfangirl @helenaway-07 @baldenki @michael-langdxn @kickasskittie23 @samm-nicoleee18 @r3beltothesystem @misanthropegal @zrozenazchaosu @agb-random @whileinparis @thestylestour @leximills666 @pinkhappypanda @winterofherdiscontent @ivyxchaplin @mysticalavengers @the-captain-kidd @m-i-a-m-c-d-e-e @amarokofficial @thecrystalwitches

[sabraeal]

If it ain't too late: ObiYuki, REMEMBER ME (childhood headcanons, much?)

Set after Tanbarun Arc; directly references events in this fic.

Wide Florida Bay | Previous

The door rattles open, panels clinking like the world’s cheapest garage door, and –

And this must be what people opening tombs feel like, because, damn, that is some stale air.

“Climate controlled my ass,” Obi coughs as he steps inside. “How long ago did you last open this thing?”

Doc hesitates. “Three months ago.”

“Well, it feels like –” the words shrivel on his tongue as he glances back at her, every line of her rigid and hunched, like a deer that knows it’s about to get mowed down by an eighteen-wheeler – “we’re about to invoke a mummy’s curse.”

Cool, great. Real sensitive. Just missing his Miss Congeniality award for that one. God, he should just stick to what he’s good at – lifting things and shutting up.

Okay, well, he probably needs to get better on that last one, but – whatever.

“Well…” Her voice is muffled behind the cowl of his hoodie, and that’s – that’s also a problem. A bigger one now, but it’s not anything he can solve. Not without fucking up their relationship, and her and Chief’s relationship, and his and Chief’s relationship, and probably just – everyone he’s every known or come to care about in the last three months.

Take home: keep it in your fucking pants, Obi.

She huffs, ducking further underneath the fabric. “There are, you know, remains in here.”

He bobbles the box he’s holding. What.

“There’s what?”

“That’s, um…” She coughs, pink peeking over the cowl. “That’s sort of what I’m here for.”

He can do this. He can play it cool. This is definitely not the first time he’s been in the room with a dead person. Probably. “Oh. Great!”

“I mean, it’s just – just my grandfathers ashes!” she’s quick to clarify. “And my – my grandmother’s. I just…I didn’t know what to do with them after – after everything. So I thought I’d just…keep them here. Until I do.”

“Oh.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, enthusiasm for this whole clean-out thing waning sharply. Not that he’s not going to do it – god, he’s too stupid for her not to – but you’re supposed to talk about the skeletons in your closet before you ask your friends to help you clean it. “So you…know what you’re doing now?”

“No,” she admits softly, shoulders rounding. “But it doesn’t feel right to leave them here. Not when I’m not really sure….”

If I’ll ever come back. She doesn’t need to say the words, not when every line of them is written on her face.

“Right,” he says, turning back to the mess. “So, what are we looking for? Urns? Decorative vases? Sand art? Shoe boxes? Give me some help here, Doc.”

“Um.” If anything, she turns more red. “A peanut butter jar.”

That holds him up. “A what?”

“Not like – not jiffy or anything!”

“Of course not, Doc,” he grumbles, picking up a stack of shoe boxes. “Only the freshest, most cruelty-free peanut butter jar for Pops, sure.”

“No, I mean –” Her hands fist on her hips, cheeks blown out. He really needs to stop finding that so cute. “It’s a tin. A – an antique. My grandfather never wanted us to spend money on him, and would say, just cremate me and bury me in a peanut butter tin, that’s all I need.” Her shoulders hunch. “I didn’t – I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Hey.” He doesn’t know he’s reaching for until cotton’s already under his palm, until he feels the birdlike brittleness of bone under his fingers. She really needs to eat more. “You did your best. That’s all you can do.”

She looks up at him, eyes watery, and nods.

“Right.” He gives her a squeeze before he lets go, because he’s a glutton for punishment. “Peanut butter tin. And your grandma?”

“An – an urn? It’s nice.” Her hands flutter, flustered, at the stack of cardboard. “I think I put it in the same box?”

“Cool.” He nods. “Let’s get started.”

“Oh!”

He cranes his head up, blinking away the dust swirling in the air. “What’s up, did you find them?”

“No,” she says, frozen over a shoe box. “I just – I didn’t realize I had packed these away.”

He gets up, knees creaking. God, he’s really getting out of shape with all this fat living at the frat. “What is it?”

“My sand dollar collection.”

She barely glances up at him as he steps up beside her, just leans back. Her shoulder brushes against his sternum, and over the must of the unit, he can smell the lavender of her shampoo. Oh, he is just – in trouble. With all this.

“We lived an hour and half from the ocean in any direction,” Doc tells him, sand dollars clinking as she shuffles through the box. “So we never got to go to them that often. But when we did, we’d always find a sand dollar and bring it back. Like a lucky charm.”

She pulls one out – small, the side of the center of her palm – and he – he –

He can’t breathe.

“This one’s from Virginia Beach,” she says, distantly. “Isn’t that where you said you were from?”

Fuck. Fuck.

Doc looks up at him, smiling, and – and –

He knows her.

He’s nine. Obi remembers that, if not a lot else. Nine is when his whole world fell apart.

It’s complicated when your mom dies. There’s – feelings, and funerals, and well-wishers, and –

And it’s even worse when you’re a kid, and it’s your last lifeline out of foster care.

He’d known she wouldn’t get better; at the age of six he’d already learned words it would take a lifetime for other people to understand – chemo, radiation, overdue, metastasize, fatal, palliative, opiate – but still, still –

He was young enough to believe in miracles. To maybe even believe in a dad that showed up at the eleventh hour, with soup and sandwiches and clean clothes, that said the magic words, I’ve been looking for you.

It was so much easier to hope for a fairy tale, to hope that maybe he was Rapunzel and his mom was an evil witch, raising him in a tower. That one day someone would come and say – and say –

“Do you mind moving over?”

He blinks, staring into the biggest, greenest eyes he’s ever seen. “What.”

“You’re taking up the bench,” the girl pipes. For one, ridiculous moment, he thinks she looks like a muppet – tiny, pink, with a bobbed haystack of unbelievable red for hair, eyes taking up half her face. Like Zoe, or maybe Prairie Dawn, just – red. “I just wanna sit down.”

“Oh.” He cranes his neck around, looking at all the other empty benches, and just – scooches. “Sure.”

She beams up at him, so bright he almost needs to squint to look at her. Instead, he looks away. “Thanks! Did you get lost too?”

That makes him stare at her, this tiny thing with knobby knees and freckles just…everywhere. He’s not really good at guessing ages, but she can’t be over five. Six, at most. “Something like that.”

It takes him a good minute to realize she’s waiting for him to clarify, that this is her bid for conversation.

He jerks his head across the street. “You see that building over there?”

She squints. “Uh-huh. It’s big.”

“Right.” He’d thought that too, when he’d first saw it. It wasn’t a big skyscraper, not like some of the other ones that surround it, but – it’s got that feeling of bigness. Of being a place where people have their lives decided. “Well, the grown-ups in there are trying to decide what to do with me. And apparently it’s not good for me to know, so I’m out here.”

“Ohhh.” She nods sagely. “Did your momma die too?”

He mouth works, and the only thing that comes out is, “Too?”

She nods. “My momma died a while ago. And they couldn’t find Daddy, and I had to go stay with some people for a few weeks.”

He licks his lips, hands clenched on his lap. “Well, I’ve been with some different people for a few years. All over the place. I’m used to it.”

The girl nods, like there’s no difference. “I didn’t like it. They were nice, but I wanted my momma. And then my grandparents came!”

“You knew them, though?” he says, adrift. It’s like he’s in some alternate reality where, like, the Power Rangers are in the ocean instead of in space, and adorable muppet-girls just pop out of nowhere in parks.  “Your grandparents?”

She shook her head. “They said they’d seen me when I was little, but I didn’t remember them. Not really.”

“That must have been scary,” he offers, not sure why. She’s just so tiny.

“A little,” she admits. “But I’m happy now! We went to the beach yesterday!”

“Oh,” he manages. “Wow.”

“Yeah, we always find sand dollars, and I collect them!” She digs into her pockets, pulling out tan little discs. “I found two this time!” She shoots him a shy look from the corner of her eyes. “Would you like one?”

“Oh!” The girl holds one out, expectant. “No, I would just – I’d break it.”

“It’s fine,” she tells him. “It’s for you. You can break it if it’s yours.”

His hand shakes as he takes it. Something happens in his chest too, but it aches, and he doesn’t want to think about it. “Thanks.”

“Now we both have one from Virginia Beach!” She leans in with a grin. “I bet that means something good will happen to us there!”

He laughs. “I’m not –”

“Shirayuki?” a voice calls frantically. “Shirayuki!”

She grimaces. “I better get going. Good luck!”

“Thanks,” he murmurs, watching her scamper off to an older couple. Her grandparents, probably. They look relieved to see her, worried too, and –

Loving.

His hand grips the dollar hard, its edges cutting into his fingers. “I’ll need it.”

“Obi?” Doc’s hand brushes his, startling him. He can still feel the sand dollar in his hand, fingers aching where it had dug in. He knows her. He knows her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah!” he coughs, turning so he can’t – can’t look at her. Doesn’t give away everything with his dumb face. “I’m just – I’m good. Let’s keep looking.”

[toriasimmons]

personal note.

My paternal grandpa, who’s been struggling with dementia and complications from diabetic retinopathy and about twenty other miscellaneous things, passed away today. We’re going to be down there next week to see people anyway, so I’ll be able to hug my parents and my grandma and my visiting cousin then, but I’ve been crying and I want to talk a little.

I’ve always been closer with my paternal grandparents than my maternal ones; when I was a kid we’d call them in Texas every Sunday night and catch up, and they’d visit more frequently, give or take once a year, sometimes in the summers and sometimes at Christmas. It also bears mention that they lived either within walking distance of or in the same house as my uncle and his daughters, my cousins (one of whom is mentioned above), and pretty much helped raise them. As I don’t have the fondest feelings for that uncle, I’m fairly sure my grandparents saved those girls, and I’ve always had nothing but respect for that. But I was never as close to them as, say, my cousins. It just wasn’t possible with me living halfway across the country from them.

A couple years ago my cousins moved to Ireland with their mom (who’s from there and still has family over there) and my grandparents moved up here, about ten minutes’ drive from my parents. The thought was that they deserved to finally get taken care of in their older age after taking care of my uncle (in a way not positively reflected on) and cousins (in a way positively reflected on) for so long, though I don’t know how bluntly this was ever said to/by them. So they moved up here, they brought their dog Cody (you might remember my mourning her when she passed almost two years ago, she was a very good girl), they settled in. They got to take it easy.

My grandpa, however, faced a lot of the medical stuff I mentioned earlier, and his life was getting less and less good, to the point where a couple of months ago he went to a memory care facility because my grandma just couldn’t take care of him by herself anymore. It’s been a couple of months full of sighs and resignation and bad news on the phone every time I talk to my parents, and we all sort of knew this was on its way, but it still... it still sucks. A lot.

I wanna remember the good stuff about him, though. His dry, sort of cranky sort of smirky sense of humor. The fact that, just like I do (I realized we shared this habit after he moved up here, and I honestly don’t know if I subconsciously picked it up from him or if it just happened), he liked to call good girl Cody or her predecessor good girl Zoe (who I’m sure is there to give my family lots of love right now, and that’s so important) just “dog,” but fondly, like it was a nickname, “hey there, dog” like you’d say “hey there, cutie” or something. The way that, when my grandma had been in the hospital for a routine procedure a couple of years ago and he’d been staying with us while she was out of commission, when she came home they greeted each other with an also fond “hey, old wife,” “hey, old husband.” The fact that he collected dolphins and used to make model airplanes. The fact that he legitimately worked for NASA during the moon landing program, meaning that my dad actually has vague memories of some of the more famous involved parties, but also meaning that he was able to serve his country in a way he hadn’t gotten to before (a car accident that left him blind in one eye/deaf in one ear meant he hadn’t been able to serve in WWII, which was hard for him). The way he doted on people, particularly my mother and youngest cousin (both of whom are particularly caring people with sensitive hearts who need to be doted on sometimes, darn it). The way he was basically the only person my dad willingly surrendered his armchair to.

I’m struggling with feeling things that aren’t strictly grief right now. Some of that is preemptive reactions to what I’m sort of anticipating in terms of how my family might grieve (more performatively than I’m likely to do) and some of that is agnostic angst and some of that is simply struggling with the fact that while I’m sad, I can also rationally acknowledge that he’s been pretty miserable for a while and he might honestly be a little relieved to be past that, but that’s not really something I feel comfortable saying to my family because it might not be comforting to them (I’m not even sure it’s comforting to me, it just sort of... is) and I don’t want to upset them anymore, especially my poor grandma. Some of it is also that, honestly, a lot of what I’ve been hearing from my parents about the reality of the dementia and all sounds like my actual literal worst nightmare (which is to say, I’m not sure which was truer, being either stuck in your unresponsive body with a brain that was still yours or being stuck in a body and brain that wasn’t really you anymore) and I’m not sure how to deal with the thoughts of that. Some of it is wishing I’d told him I’m married because I wish he’d have known that I was happy (but maybe he does? See again: agnostic angst). Some of it is that traditional funerals are not really my bag at all but I also don’t want anyone to feel bad if I can’t/don’t go but I also don’t really want to say goodbye that publicly because it’s uncomfortable for me.

Some of it is straight-up just grief, though. I’m pretty aching at the moment.

[memidgenotsofteroreasier]

Christmas letter

This has been a couple of hard years. Did I mention that Jim had a brain bleed? It started in Dec. 2015, then he pegged his head on the other side and it became bilateral. I thought he was senile because he stopped going to church. Two weeks before the fall, I took him to his General Practitioner, a Podiatrist, and a knee specialist (he had both done in 2016 after recovery). None of them picked up on his condition. I did all the talking. He is supposed to be as good as you can expect a year after the event. They recommended cataract surgery and that was done, but he is only marginally better able to see because of a previous detached retina repair. The membrane is swollen so his sight is distorted. Add to that, neuropathy in his hands and feet. It runs in the family. But he's alive. His father died in 2014 and that December, the 10th, his brother went to bed and didn't wake up on the 11th. Sister Ruth and her husband Don go on cruises and trips to exotic places. They are cruising now, as a matter of fact. Bhutan, India, and Nepal were their last excursion, with fly-overs of the majestic peaks in the Himalayas. Me, I want to renew my passport before my March 1 expiration date becomes permanent and I have to re-apply all over again. Jim is the sticking point. I want to take him to Canada by train. I know it's expensive, but you only live now (I believe in reincarnation so I tremble at the consequences of our current President). We have also had financial setbacks. I cosigned on a car loan and yep, she defaulted. Gwen was renting a room from Tanya and I was driving her to appointments. She was a good worker and I wanted to support her but the loan had a very high interest rate and the vehicle's value, while depreciating, was going up on the loan. We cut the cord at $13,500, when I flew to Michigan, where she moved, got the car, and made a cross-country trip with my granddaughter Zoe. She did most of the driving. We stopped in Kalamazoo where she had a virtual friend, now a real friend. He had been couch surfing and wanted to come along. I said no with regret. Next we visited a docent friend Anne in Des Moines, Iowa before turning south to our next stop in Oklahoma City where I have a niece (my cousin died a few years ago but the house is still in the family). My second cousin is her mom. It was Valentine's Day. She told her mother, Diane, that it was like Grandpa and Grandma were still alive. People used to stop in unannounced all the time when they were still alive. So it was like they were sending a Valentine! Next, we stopped in Albuquerque, then a last stop in Paulsen AZ where a cousin lives and raises Beefalo. He was just one month into a bereavement. His fiance had succumbed to cancer in his house with all her loved-ones around. It was a hard loss. As we drove home, a huge storm was brewing, after spectacularly nice weather all the way across the country. There was snow on the ground through OK and TX but the roads were clear. I heard from friends visiting from Michigan that their plane made a fishtail landing in the high winds and driving rain. The passengers cheered when they slowed down. It took me until the 25th of February to go look at another vehicle with a friend. It is now a Honda CRV but not the car I want. One should be able to lie down in back when camping.

Camping! We have two parks in the Thousand Trails network that are local. The southern-most one, Pio Pico, is named after a historic figure. Oakzanita Springs is east in a town called Descanso, not much of a town. One general store, a library, lots of horses, and my friend Catherine and her husband Rob Horne. They have B&H Ranch and he monitors the weather for the area. A web cam trained on Cuyamaca Peak will let us know what snow looks like. They are in a venturi valley, so have shutters on the building that roll down to keep the wind from destroying them. We are under a 'red flag' alert for fire and the wind that has been causing havoc north of here should pick up soon.

Now about the cats. We have nine. Our Gateway Cat was a sleek black beauty we named Samhain. Then last October a disreputable long-hair showed up. She was nearly starved, obviously old, and everyone said take her to the vet. No. She can eat, but that's all. Well, in February, a pregnant tabby came to the bowl. Her partner was also stealing food. I knocked a piece of plywood over and the kittens were underneath. Three died, two survived. She is probably pregnant again but I have plans to have her spayed because she had a second litter, four of which survived. This is ridiculous. The Tom is quite elusive, he should be fixed. But I'm picking up traps pretty soon here and we will have two spayed and one Neutered this Sunday. The surviving kits from the Spring litter will go to my daughter's for mouse control. They will have a blast. But I'm wondering how to home the kittens! A second session of spaying will have to take place in the near future. Then we can advertise on Facebook that they will make great hunters. Why, yesterday I watched the kitten chasing mom's tail, then he discovered his own and chased it!

The exciting/dreadful thing is related to home building. It will be 980 square feet and have two bedrooms, one bathroom, and be sited on the south edge of the property. Our contractor, David, recommended that we hire a guy to hurry the plans through. He was so slow that David despaired. To be fair, everything in California has a lot of hurdles. I hope we can fix the old house up with the loan money after the new one is built. Our tenants will be Suzanne and Zoe. She is a tough customer, having fought for every scrap of success. There are trust issues on both sides. I am at the point where I rely on God's guidance in every way.

Jim and I went on a Disciplined Order of Christ retreat in late September. We also 'cabin' camp at Thousand Trails for special occasions. He says indoors. I hike, get lost, find my way through the bushes, and return, sheepish. The local fasola folk are going to sing tonight in a small gazebo at Gardens Aglow at The Garden where I am a docent. It should be fun. We won't be amplified. As long as we can read our music! Maybe they will have pictures at www.thegarden.org

[canaryatlaw]

So today was okay. Better than yesterday I suppose. The morning was just kind of.....weird. I was out of it for like, a while, but we'll get there. Got up at 7 to my alarm, ate breakfast (still no milk, so oatmeal, eggos, and probably a cookie again). Got on the bus, got to work and didn't set off the metal detector for like, the third time ever haha though it might have something to do with the bitchy sheriff not working it at that time. So I get to my office and look for my supervisor or any of the calendar attorneys but I can't find them, so I just go to my office and resume working on my timeline for TPR. Sometime around then I realized I left my lunchbox on my kitchen table. Whoops. So I worked for a little and then people show up and I was informed there was a team meeting that morning that I accidentally didn't get notified about haha but I can obviously come to them from now on. The paralegal on our calendar is this super nice guy and he brought me a tamale because he brought them for the meeting and I wasn't really able to eat it but I still very much appreciated it. Sometime around here is where things get trippy. I start with the getting cold and not being able to focus so I put my coat on and set my alarm for some amount of time I can't recall to try and get my powernap in. I think I woke up before the alarm but still felt out of it. I tried to work on my stuff but it was like, incredibly difficult to actually do because I was constantly typing stuff wrong and having to redo it. I remember it turning 12 pm and thinking I need to go get food if I want to have a lunch, but then I just didn't....and I don't really know what happened for the next hour because my next memory is my phone ringing at 1 pm and having my supervisor tell me we'd leave for the client interview at 1:30. So I was pretty alert at that point, and worked for a bit before heading out. This was actually my first child interview, and there's like a form with questions and shit you're supposed to ask but like, obviously a lot of placements are different so not everyone is gonna apply. This was kind of an odd one because she's only been in the placement a little over a week, so there's only so much she can say about it. So we get there and she's this adorable smiling 5 year old girl that you would never knew was removed from her mother's custody two weeks ago. It was immediately obvious that she was very strongly bonded to the foster parent, saying she was her "Titi", and that her "grandma" (FP's mom) lived upstairs and her sister and sisters son (FP's daughter and grandson) live downstairs. She's been in this house since May 2nd but it became quite clear she had decided she wanted to stay here. So we do the interviewing, and she's a 5 year old so she can't stay in one place, and she answers questions with things like "there are no rules here!!" when asked about discipline haha but I didn't think it was that bad, we got the important info. When we brought up her mom, who hasn't visited since she was placed there, and she said she would like to see her mom, but made it very clear that she still wanted to stay in the foster home forever. According to the foster parent, she hadn't mentioned her mother or anyone from her life "before" since coming to live there. After we had our answers we did a little tour of the house, and then I kind of ended up entertaining her while my supervisor spoke with the foster parent. So she showed me her toys, then went on the iPad and showed me what she was watching- scenes from Supergirl. She had on the one from 2x01 where Kara and Clark both save the space shuttle from crashing together and like this scene made me cry when I watched it on tv so I'm like dammit Rachel keep it together this is not the place lol but I managed to contain myself. And she was saying how much she liked Supergirl, so I asked her if she knew who Wonder Woman was, and she said no so I showed her the most recent trailer and she was awe-struck. She loved it so much and kept saying she can't wait that long for the movie to come out (I figured the trailer isn't all that graphically violent, and I mean, not for nothing but this kid has probably seen a lot worse). She really liked seeing Diana as a little girl and at one point where little Diana was walking with her mother she said "oh, she's going somewhere with her mom, that's so sweet" and she like, wiped her eye. I don't think she actually like, teared up, but it definitely stuck out to me that she would make that kind of comment- that that would be something she would envy after her own experience with her mother (if you missed last night's post, the cliff notes version of this case was mom is a heroin addict who was living with a convicted sex offender, they were living in what was essentially an abandoned building with no hear and holes in the floor, and there were claims of physical abuse and the mom constantly referring to her daughter as "that little bitch" and other such things, so yeah). I'm glad I got to interact with her in a more relaxed environment though, she was always very sweet and happy, insisting she doesn't get scared or sad, or anything negative. She hasn't been to any school but when I said to type in Wonder Woman her finger hovered over the W and she asked if that was the letter it started with, which I thought was fairly bright for someone who hasn't been to school at all and apparently doesn't even like, know her numbers. But yeah, that was about it for the visit. Hopefully this won't be the last I see of the case and I'll get to see her again further down the line. So on the car ride back we talked about what we thought, my boss said she thought how much she clung to the foster parent so quickly was definitely an abandonment issue, and lord knows that will only get worse if this placement doesn't work out long term (because tbh in all likelihood she's not going home). The foster parent said she was open to adopting though, so I really hope she gets one of the rare happy endings that come out of our court building. Got back and it was like 3:45, so I typed up the interview with all the information and started doing some other stuff before heading out around 5. Bus was slower than usual because it was rainy and traffic wasn't great, and I didn't end up getting off it until 6:35 which wasn't great because I had PT at 7. Thankfully it's only 2 blocks over so I just ran in and changed, ate like two cookies (I mean, I had to eat something, it might as well be cookies) and ran back out again. It hadn't really been raining when I got off the bus but when I went to walk over at 6:50 it had started enough to use an umbrella. PT was fine, I was working with a different person partially because my schedule changed and partially because my normal guy is in Europe right now lol. He was nice though and we had some good conversations, and I definitely feel like I'm getting better with the exercises. I'm gonna end up going tomorrow again because it was the only place I could fit it into my schedule, and the appointment is at 6 so I'll have to uber home to make it but oh well. By the time I left PT, the rain had increased to torrential downpour levels. Like I can't remember the last time I was stuck in rain this bad. I wanted to pick up milk for my damn Cocoa krispies, so I stopped in the little produce store that was right on my route home and grabbed some of that. It was cute, seemed to have some Mexican products and candy and such. So I take my half gallon of milk (no bag, because bags now cost 7 cents in Chicago), my purse, and my umbrella and head out into the rain. And I'm just getting soaked. I'm wearing sneakers and leggings because I was in PT of course, so my sneakers end up getting totally soaked through, and my leggings did as well up to my knees. All I could think was all the people passing me were probably thinking "who's the schmuck that decided they needed to run out and get milk in the middle of a torrential downpour???? 😂😂 me, apparently. I was very thankful when I made it home and immediately ditched my shoes, socks, and leggings for dry clothing. Glad that was over. I watched Arrow, since I'm still hanging in there for the season finale with Katrina and Katie, and the episode was pretty meh. I wasn't terribly into the whole Oliver and Thea dealing with the fact that their dad did bad things storyline cuz like, wasn't the entire basis of the list making up for the sins he's committed? Like to me that only adds to the reasons Oliver became the green arrow. And I'm sorry but I have to bitch about the Rene child custody plotline because it was SO ridiculously inaccurate I actually wanted to scream at my tv screen. Their entire premise was total bullshit. He doesn't want to go because it's a hearing and he'll have to testify? Well no shit Sherlock, did you think they were just gonna hand her over to you because you showed up? And then he wouldn't do it because it would traumatize Zoe- ummmmmmm, here's the thing- the kids aren't in the damn courtroom for any of that. Like, ever, especially not at that age. I know judges that will do pretty much whatever is humanly possible to stop a kid from having to take the stand or watch a parent testify. Like that entire thing was 100% bullshit and I was so done with it. Meh. I already sent Guggenheim a somewhat passive more aggressive ask about it but I doubt he'll answer whether they actually did any research because their entire thing was bs, lol. Anyway. I finished watching that around 9:20, at which point I switched over to designated survivor which was on currently. I can't say I was into this week's episode as much as I have been with the others lately. It wasn't bad, it just wasn't like totally amazing. And I mean, every show is gonna have episodes like that. I thought the UN plot was interesting if a bit odd, and then of course the whole al-sakar thing when it was a question of lying to the people and a potential national security issue, like that is a super interesting question to be asking so I applaud them for that. After that I just turned the news on and then watched a little bit for friends before getting in the shower. I got new shampoo and conditioner in the mail today because I saw this brand in a Facebook ad (I'm a total sucker, I know) that like makes custom formula shampoos based on the type of your hair and the things you're looking for in a shampoo and conditioner, and they mix it up and send it to you. So I used that for the first time and I guess we'll see how it works out. I have color protection as one of my goals obviously, and it doesn't have any sulfate a so that's a good sign, but the instructions were also like "use daily" and I was like lol I've literally been washing my hair once a week for months now, washing it daily is not gonna help my color. I'll have to test that though after I dye my hair, which I need to do soon. OKAY, I think that's all I had to say so I will now retire to bed. Goodnight my lovely friends. Be blessed.

[atticus-jude-blog]

9/5/18

Today was rainy.

I keep thinking about high school and what I’m gonna do after, as everyone does. I’ve been here in Missouri almost a year and I don’t know how I feel about it.

I remember first moving here, crammed in the back of the long-bed gold truck and watching the foreign buildings and cars license plates pass us as 800 miles passed until we pulled into a nameless neighborhood, complete with bland-colored split-level homes, including one cheery, yellow-painted home with white trim that reminds me of sunflowers and golden hour. Back then, the barren trees and dull wash that the rain had left on everything made the gray world grayer. 

Today, nearly a year later, the ride past the unlabeled brick walls decorating the outside of my neighborhood signaled a close arrival to the less-bland neighbors and home I lived in, and the walk up the side-walk was filled with rain and The 1975. Leaves littered the ground to warn us about the fall. I don’t know. I just thought it was odd.

I think a lot has changed since Knoxville. For example, I really only talk to Landan and Nate now, as apposed to the many many friends I kept up with -- including Lydia and Mary Grace -- when I first left. I’ve cut my hair. I’ve been in two relationships and I started a new one recently. And I’ve started high school. Even though I’ve done all these things and made new friends, and even though I’m starting high school fresh with everyone else, it still feels like I’m new. 

I told this to my grandpa when he was in town. It was at the hotel they were staying in. My grandma and mom had gone back into their room, while Tyler, Michael (my dad), my grandpa and I stayed at the pool. Tyler and Michael were in the pool a little ways, while I sat in the stiff chairs to the side beside Grandpa. He had his arms crossed, and was scowling at the wall, which meant he was thinking.

“How are you liking school?” He looked at me,

I was taken aback at first, because not only because not even my parents had thought to ask me that, but also because at that moment Michael had given an odd side glance at the both of us when he had asked.

I replied, “I like it, I’ve got friends and everything, it just. . .it still feels like I’m new.”

When he nodded and sighed, I think I realized he was the first to get it when I said it like that. I’d tried explaining it to Zoe and to Journey, but it just wasn’t the same.

He went on to tell me about how Michael and everyone had moved so many times throughout their school years. They’re from Seattle, he’d said, and the biggest shock was moving to Mississippi from there. It was so different, and not in a good way.

In Seattle there weren’t as many problems as there are in the south, and it was just different. Grandpa told me that when they moved, my Aunt Alanna, with her bright personality, adapted to pretty much any environment and made friends wherever she went. Michael apparently wasn’t the same. He had only one friend, and that was a neighbor, who my Grandpa said was a Klansman. He didn’t fit in very well. Sometimes when I look back at my dad’s childhood, I think he has the potential to be a serial killer or a school shooter. Half of me still expects to see him n Forensic Files or something. 

I love my grandpa. Not many people ask me questions like that, and my parents don’t really tell me stories about their childhood that aren’t politically related or meant to show me how great I have it. My grandpa came with us to this market by the Independence Square when he visited. He bought a sack of peaches, talked to a homeless veteran, and gave this really old one-man-band some money. I aspire to be like him. He is infinitely kind.

I think a goal I have for this is to write every day until my last day as a senior. The day I walk home from high school and don’t go back is the day I will say the end.

Until then, sincerely,

A&J

[maree-ff]

Adjustments

[CAMILA]

Walking through the classroom door I hit the lights, taking in the flashbacks of my last day at work before going on leave. This transition back into the working field after really getting to know my newborn baby won’t be easy. This morning it took me 45 minutes just to put the baby down so I could get ready for the day. Andre did not pester me or make commentary on my behavior.  I think he was mute for quite a few reasons but only one stands out the most. He’s become an extremely compassionate person. Andre watched over and cared for me from the moment he came home up until now. He knows how attached I’ve become to our new baby and getting acquainted with motherhood once again. Which is why leaving this morning was a major heartache for me. Pregnancy became that much lifelike with him around to soak up the last few months alongside me. Not to forget about how nurturing, strong and level headed he was while I was going through labor.

“Mrs. Reese?” A tender voice spoke out from behind me.

I squealed initially and spilled some of my tea on the floor. The sting from the water against the tops of my feet made me tear up but I didn’t release them. Spinning around slowly I made eye contact with one of my quietest students.

“Good morning, Lee. How are you?” I asked him.

“I’m okay. Sorry if I scared you. I didn’t mean to.” He said timidly.

I assured him that I’m fine and that he didn’t scare me. I don’t have the heart to tell this sweet boy that he did in fact scare the hell out of me. My classroom isn’t even filled yet and I already feel that my nerves are getting the better of me. 

---------  --------

Time seems to be moving at a rather fast pace now. Half of the day is already gone and I received my routine visits from both Zoe and Kenja. Seeing them reminded me of Jorden and although the sadness returned, the girls put a smile on my face.

After recess was over, I pushed through the remainder of my lesson by forcing my sadness deep down inside. My students don’t deserve any inconsistency in their education. The minute the bell rang out, my room alongside neighboring classrooms and hallway were instantly filled with noise. Standing from my desk I removed my cardigan, set it on top of my laptop, and went around the room for a sweep.

“Mrs. Reese?!” I turned around on my heels with three pencils, a notebook, and halfway zipped pencil pouch in hand. I moved so quickly I dropped half of what I was holding.

“Dammit..” I cursed under my breath at my clumsiness and bent down to pick up the items. “What’s the matter Claudia?” I asked.

“I still can’t read the big clock.” She whined.

Going over to her desk I assisted her in gathering her things and talked her through the review lesson on time we went over today. My fill-in for the last few months has really done a great job on staying up on the lesson plan I set up for my kids. Even at home, carrying Jorden to full term I still made sure my babies here at school were taken care of. From what the substitute told me, Claudia is still struggling to read time. I went as far as writing her parents a note explaining to them what exactly Claudia is having issues with.

Once Claudia felt confident that she will get the hang of this lesson, I sat down at my desk to read everyone’s journal entries. There was complete silence in my room until I heard feet closing in on my position. Still focused on these journal entries I picked up my favorite pen and highlighter, going in with this editing.

“Mama, you coming home late today?” 

My head turned to the left and when I saw Zoe standing in the doorway I dropped my pen. I turned around in my chair, stood up and went over to where she stood. With her wrapped up in my arms I felt this sensational urge to weep but our location prevented that. 

“I missed you, my love.” I sniffled. Even after a long day of playing and running around, Zo still smells like home. 

“But I came to visit you two times today. Mom, are you okay?” She asked. The concern in her voice tickled me red. 

Scaling back from our hug I walked her to my desk so I could sit back down. 

“Mommy..what’s wrong? Why do you look so sad?” She questioned with a little more authoritative tone. 

“I’m not sad, Zo. I’m really tired but I’m not sad. And no I’m not coming home late. In fact..” taking a breather I stood up and began gathering my belongings. “Wanna take a trip with me? We can surprise daddy and Kenny with something they’ll both love.” I know that enticing children is a horrible parenting tactic. Especially since I get on Andre, all the time, about spoiling them with material things. However the incentive for her to come home with me is baked goods. 

“Can we go to Ann Marie? Please mom? Say that we can go, please!” Zoe began to guilt trip me about the last time we were supposed to go to the bakery. Together we left the school grounds after I received confirmation that Divya picked up Kenja this afternoon. The drive into downtown LA was an absolute mess. Cars and pedestrians at every turn, not to mention it began to rain just as Zo and I made it inside the shop. 

“Mommy..the umbrella.” Zoe complained, standing close to me. 

“We’ll be alright love bug. I’ll cover you with my jacket before we walk out. Tell me what you want.” I said to her. I granted Zoe the pleasure of getting her favorite muffin and a small cake just for her. I was sure to get Kenja’s and her daddy’s  favorite treats as well. When it came time for me to pick something I froze. 

My drastic change in diet has really hindered my food palate. I chose many months ago to eat to live. I chose to nourish my body with food from the earth not only for my benefit but for my little boy too. 

“If you’re struggling with the main menu we do have a specialty menu you can look at.” The girl behind the counter spoke up. 

“Yes, I’d like to see that one. Thank you.” Accepting a laminated booklet with all kinds of alternatives I felt my eyes widen. “I’ll be damned.” I chuckled quietly. 

“Can I see? I want to look too, mom.” Zoe quizzed frantically. 

Squatting down to her level I read off some goods that caught my eye. Thanks to Zoe I picked out more sweet treats than I bargained for. The girl boxed up our food beautifully and then we went home. The rain lightened up just as I got settled behind the steering wheel. My eye caught the brightest rainbow I’ve seen since the day of my mother’s funeral. 

“It’s grandma and her special rainbow, mommy, look.” Zoe said. 

“Yeah baby, I see it too. It’s pretty right?”

“Uh huh.” She mumbled 

Choking back a mass in my throat I discreetly thanked my mother for the sign of good faith.

——--  ——--

“Alright, all done.” I yawned. Setting down Kenja’s brush and spray bottle I hung my head low with my eyes closed. My body began to sway and when I felt the cushion of her bed underneath my head I remained still. 

“You can sleep here, I don’t mind..” 

I opened one eye up to see Kenja taking the braid out of my hair. A weak smile and airy chuckle later I felt a presence nearby. Shifting slightly I felt my spirit come back to life. Here Andre stands in the doorway of the room with the baby cradled in his arms. I’ve been home tending to the girls for over an hour and I’ve yet to lay eyes on my baby. 

“Is he asleep?” I yawned again, making the girls and Andre laugh. 

“Same state that you’re in now. Come on..” he encouraged me. 

I rose slowly from Evelyn’s bed and stood on my feet even slower. I’m worn out beyond measure. This first day back was brutal on my body. Turning around on my feet I went to tuck the girls into their beds. It’s getting to that time of night where I have to flip the switch in my brain. I tended to my kids and students all day so now is my time to end my night with my best friend and our bundle of joy. 

“Good night my loves, I love you girls so much and don’t ever forget that.” I passed my love to the girls and left the room, stripping out of second change of clothes. I swapped the sweats and hoodie for one of my robes and sat down at the edge of the bed. Andre passed the baby to me and when I laid my sights on him I let the tears go. Too many hours have passed since I’ve held and loved on my little boy. “I missed you so much baby. So so much.” I whispered to him, smothering his face in warm kisses. 

“I can already tell how your first day back went.” Andre voiced, adjusting the temperature in the room.

Sighing tiredly, I crossed my legs and laid back against the bed. “I missed the two of you so much. Being here was all I could think about. The girls came to visit as usual and that really helped. Anyway, how was your day?”

“Quiet. I didn’t take him anywhere. We just hung out around the house. I let him sleep after you left and surprisingly he was knocked out for five hours straight.” Andre stretched out beside me, removing my earrings and my eyelashes. “Why are you still playing around with these? You have beautiful eyelashes that don’t deserve to be covered up.” 

Smiling from the pit of my belly I felt my body tremble at his passive aggressive attempt to poke fun at me. Andre is the most supportive man I know but when I toy with different makeup looks and tools he gets a kick out of making commentary. 

“I like to switch things up, Dre. You know that. I guess you’re right though, they are quite uncomfortable.” Peering at my baby I lifted my hand to stroke his cheek. 

“Switch with me. Go get ready for bed because it’s getting late and you need to rest.” He and I traded places, granting me the peace and quiet I’ve been yearning for all day. Lifting my head toward the shower head I embraced the pounding water, pushing my hair back. 

“Mmm…” I groaned. “Hahh…” my mind is slipping between reality and a dreamland. Life has been gracious to me and so has the Lord. Life has also been cruel to me on numerous occasions. The spattering water against the floor and my feet reminded me of the waterfalls in Puerto Rico. 

“Camila,” I heard over the water. 

“Yeah?” Turning around I leaned forward to let the water penetrate my back muscles. “That feels so good, mm..” 

“I’m just checking on you. Go on with your shower, I’m not going anywhere.” He snickered. “Can I ask you something babe?”

Rolling my eyes I began to take this shower seriously. “Of course.” 

“How are those stitches treating you?” 

Andre mentioning the most painful part of labor and delivery struck a nerve. I truly felt like I was dying when I felt my skin rip apart. “Umm..” as I rinsed the suds from my body I took a seat and delicately fanned my fingertips over my stitches. Even the slightest touch still raises the hair on my body and brings me discomfort. 

“Cam, what’s wrong baby, talk to me..” I jumped at the sound of Andre’s voice and stabbed myself with my fingernail. 

“Crap..” I shuddered. “It’s healing...slowly but surely. Did you get the pain meds I asked for? Along with everything else?” Sighing in defeat I wiped away the tears and sped up this shower. Stepping out I accepted the towel from Andre’s hand. “Gracias.” I smiled. 

“Always and yes I have everything that you asked for. Everything alright in there?” He smirked. 

“The stitches still haven’t dissolved and I stabbed myself. I’m okay I promise but I’m still not-”

Andre stroked the crown of my head and bent forward to kiss my cheek. “Camila, I know how much pain you’re still in.” He began. 

Gulping down the slight formation of bile I looked him in the eye. 

“I care about your health and well-being beyond my sexual needs and desires. I care about your sexual needs and desires before mine, you know that too. I was there behind you, watching you bring this little boy in the world. Meaning that I will never forget how difficult it must’ve been for you. We will get back to our old selves in time. I’m not rushing nor am I growing impatient.” 

I felt the corners of my mouth turn up. “Thank you for all that you do. Your patience and commitment is unmatched.” I said genuinely. 

If I want to have a healthy state of mind I’ve got to refocus. With Andre taking unexpected time off to be home with Jorden, this is the break I need to reinvent Camila Maree.