#2 Tuesdays ago. and I’m still fucking coughing. every time I start feeling better I go back to work and the sickness like resets itself.

[pepperpixel]

A pic of my human whirl design and holomatter avatar whirl hanging out together! Cuz I thought that’d be cute! And I was right… it is!

#transformers #mtmte #whirl #tf whirl #humanformers #mtmte whirl #doodles #Srry it’s been so long since uploading anything. I got a job! last month #and! it’s been going good… but also I do not have as much free time… #also… I’m.. it’s at a daycare… and I got a 102 degree fever last LAST Tuesday #2 Tuesdays ago. and I’m still fucking coughing. every time I start feeling better I go back to work and the sickness like resets itself. #also one of the kids gave me pinkeye!!! #im… thinking about looking for a diff job lol #im rlly proud of how well I’ve been handling this one. and its def boosted my confidence! #but.. like… i live with old ppl. who have there own serious issues. also I have my own issues! #espec w the eye thing like i had to go to an eye doctor ever month for like 2 years cuz my eyes were screwed up #and finally last year i got the ok that my eyes were doing good! and they weren’t screwed up anymore. and then i get fucking pink eye! #that freaks me out!!!! and Ive been sick for 2 weeks straight! that sucks!!! #like.. ive just realized… this level of exposure to illness and bacteria.. is not worth it lol #ive still got to do like 2 weeks notice tho so hopefully im not fucking sick for 2 more weeks #I feel like that’s a possibility ghgh #anyway yeah I got a job that’s why arts been scarce. gonna get a new job after this one so art will probably still be scarce lol #it’s ok that just means it’ll be more of a treat when I do post! like u guys’ll cherish it more right? lol #absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that #maccadam

[suchalonelysunflower]

“One of the Boys” (M.C)

Pairings: Michael Clifford X Reader

Summary: College!AU ~ Friends to Lovers. You and Michael are best friends since forever, that’s why you feel the need to hide your crush on him. But when he makes a hurtful comment, you are determined to prove him wrong. Could that be enough to make him love you?

Warnings: The reader uses she/her pronouns, I’m sorry if I make anyone uncomfortable with that, it was not my intention. Angst with fluffy parts. Language, low self esteem issues, cheating (a little bit, it depends on how you view it) one sexual reference and some grammar and syntax errors (English it’s not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 5.5K

Author’s Note: My first Michael Fic! I waited so long and it’s finally here ✨ This is slyghtly based on a personal experience (mine didn’t have this ending) I hope you like it! Feedback, reblogs and comments are always welcomed, I love to hear from you guys 💕 You can read my other works HERE 🦋

You had to admit it, you weren’t exactly a very ‘feminine’ girl. But that the hell was wrong with that? Yes, you preferred leggings and big hoodies over skirts and tight dresses. Yes, you skateboarded everyday to school and hanged out with boys all the time, drinking beers instead of fancy little cocktails. Yes, you never really cared about boy bands or artists like Justin Bieber or Drake. And yes, you would rather die than have high heels on for more than 2 hours straight. But that’s just who you are, how you’ve always been. His comment shouldn’t have hurt that much, but why are you crying about it?

You have been roomates with Michael since you two started college. You always joked about how you were going to live together someday and have a fridge full of junk food and soda. Well, now you do (except from the junk food part, that proved to be an awful experience)

To be honest, you didn’t have that many friends besides him and your other four knuckleheads you know and love from your early school days. Luke was the youngest of all of you, and maybe that’s why everybody thought he was the innocent one (even though he was the mastermind of almost every prank you ever pulled) Calum was the shy one, as people would put it, but just get to know him a little bit and you wouldn’t be able to shut him up. Ashton is supposedly the mature one, but his quick-witted mind and his inability of staying put in a place gives him the same amount of energy as a five year old. And then there was Michael, your best friend, there isn’t a time in your life where Michael wasn’t by your side, weather it was for pulling a prank on someone, skipping school or just playing video games in his basement, he was always there. So moving in together was a no brainer.

The friendship consisted on having the same level of confidence as an old married couple, trusting each other with everything, nothing being off limits, well, except for one thing…

You and Michael were friends and nothing more. That was clear for both of you. For years you both ignored the teasing and assumptions of you guys being a couple. Just the idea of it seeming so absurd to even imagine. But there’s a fine line between love and friendship.

Over the last few years, you began to think that the idea of being Michael’s girlfriend didn’t sound so bad after all. It was impossible to pin the pivotal point of that thought, but somehow somewhere along the road, you started to feel more flustered every time he leaned into a hug, felt butterflies in your stomach with each look he speared your way or how he said your name with such a caring tone. You found yourself thinking of him more often than not, especially on how his arms would look around you waist, how it will feel to be loved by him, to kiss him…

But you couldn’t think like that, not about your best friend. So it’s better to keep it hidden in the deepest part of your soul, praying to whoever’s above that it will go away soon, but when does that ever work?

Maybe that’s why his comment hurt so bad.

It was a lazy Monday, you didn’t have to work today and that meant you could spend your afternoon beating Michael’s ass in video games. But you couldn’t concentrate with your thoughts wandering over the man who owns your heart. It was the third time you let him win in Mario Kart when he caught on your mood.

“You really suck today, huh?” Michael asked as he watches Mario celebrate yet another victory.

“Or maybe you’re finally getting good” You replied, resting your head lazily in one hand, not taking your eyes from the screen.

Michael furrowed his brows, worrying as he heard a light sigh come out of your lips “Hey, are you okay?” He asked, but you don’t seem to hear him, so he accommodates himself on the couch in order to look at you properly and puts a hand on your leg, just right above the knee “Y/N?”

“Huh?” You say, finally lifting your gaze in order to meet his and oh, how you wish you didn’t. Lost in the sea of those green eyes that consumed every thought of your mind, you felt yourself blushing under him and trying very hard not to think on his hand touching your thigh “What? No, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Liar. You let me win, that never happens. Tell me, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong”

“Y/N,”

“Nothing’s wrong, Michael. I swear”

His eyes scanned you, knowing damn well something was up.

“Well,” He said, patting your leg, softly “If you’re not gonna tell me… Then I will make you”

Before you could even comprehend what he meant by that, he was already leaning over your figure with a devilish grin as his hands traveled to your sides and started tickling you mercilessly.

Tears formed in the corner of your eyes as you couldn’t contain the laughter that came over you. Begging him to stop, you tried to escape his grip, but it wasn’t the first time this had happened and you know this is a fight you can’t. Michael joined in laughter as he came closer to you, pinning you under him on the sofa.

But suddenly, his movements stop as he becomes very aware of the position you’re in. You give one last laugh before turning to face him, only to find him already staring at you. You shudder under his gaze as you realize the way his legs are intertwined with yours, wondering if it’s his cellphone on the pocket of his shorts or something else is brushing up against your lower body.

Michael’s eyes never leave yours as your breath becomes even. And he couldn’t help but notice the way that your lips parted slightly, almost inviting him for a taste.

“Hey, dude, sorry to bother you but.. Oh shit, you’re fucking on the couch?” A voice came through the door, making you push Michael onto the floor before getting caught in that position. Raising your head over the sofa, you were met by Ashton and Luke’s grin disappearing from their faces as your face came to view “Oh, it’s just Y/N. WAIT, Were you fucking Y/N?!”

Rolling your eyes and giving them the middle finger, you stand up from the couch, regretting ever giving them a key in the first place, and went straight to the bathroom, trying to hide the red of your cheeks.

But just before you could close the door, you heard Michael say “What are you talking about? It Y/N! She’s practically one of the boys!”

He didn’t mean to hurt you. He had good intentions with that comment, of course he did. But you couldn’t stop overthinking it, crying at the thought of you being so unattractive in his eyes.

“So he wants a girly girl?” You thought, already planning a strategy “I’ll show him, then”

That’s how it started. You began to wear the dresses that were long forgotten on your wardrobe, you started using makeup and styling your hair in something other than a messy bun.

It was confusing at first and not at all what you were used to, but there was a new energy surrounding you, a confident one. You were going to show Michael that you could be feminine, maybe that way he’ll notice you in a ‘more than just a friend’ kinda way.

The first time the boys saw you with your new look they were all sharing breakfast in your kitchen. With your apartment being closer to campus they might as well move in.

“Good morning, guys” You said cheerfully, not looking at anyone in particular.

They all stared at you, looking at you up and down. And just before you could reach the cereal box, the questions started coming.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Y/N why are you dressed like a girl? IS THAT MAKE UP?”

“Do you have a date? It’s 8 am on a Tuesday! Who are they? Vampires?”

“Who are you and what did you do to our Y/N?”

“Is the simulation broken?”

“Shhh” You said, raising the palm of your hand as you poured cereal in a bowl “It’s too damn early for any of you to do that much noise and I haven’t had my coffee yet” As in que, Ashton passed you your usual mug “Thank you, and to answer some of your inquiries. 1) Nothing’s going on, Calum. 2) I happen to be a girl, Luke. Thank you for noticing. 3) I do not have a date, nor I should use that as an excuse to put on some nice clothes. I just,, felt like it” You took a long sip from the hot beverage “The simulation broke down a long time ago and I’m still me. I’m just wearing different clothes, that’s all. Right, Mikey?”

Michael choked with his toast, coughing as he tried to gain some composure “Yeah, you look… great” He said with a shy smile, and he was right. The others joined in with the compliments, hyping and teasing you about how he will have to be more protective of you because you will sure bring home some hot dates looking like that.

It’s been a couple of weeks since that morning and everyday Michael complimented you. You’d be lying if you say that every word he says doesn’t fill your heart with butterflies. Maybe there’s a possibility that he feels the same way.

It was a pretty uneventful evening in the little coffee shop where you worked. You didn’t have many clients today, so the dim lights and the sweet voice of Hozier that blasted through the speakers allowed you to daydream. Michael’s face popped out in your mind, smiling as you remembered the way that he looked at you this morning. Finally proving that you were more than just “One of the boys”

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the bell chime when the door opened, only waking up when you saw those same eyes that had you smiling just a minute ago standing in front of you, staring at you as well.

“Hey Y/N! How’s it going?” He asked, smiling at you.

“Nothing much” You shrug “Just the same amount of pain and tiredness of the average college experience” Michael rolled his eyes at your sarcasm. That’s when a giggle caught your attention.

The most beautiful woman you ever laid your eyes on was standing next to Michael. She had the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen and her wavy hair complemented her face like an angel. She sure didn’t seem real, how did you not notice her when she entered? Were you really that busy focusing on Michael?

“I can totally relate to that” The girl said with a smile, god even her smile was perfect.

“Y/N, this is Veronica. Veronica, Y/N” Michael introduced.

You smiled politely at her and she did the same “Oh, the famous Y/N! I heard a lot about you, I can’t wait to get to know you better”

Um, what? Michael has been talking about you? To her? You couldn’t tell if it was good or a bad sign.

“Really? Well, don’t believe anything he says. Unless they are good things, then he’s right”

“Okay! Thank you, Y/N” He interrupted, mocking annoyance “I’ll take my usual please, darling. And she will have…”

“Just a mocha, please”

You nodded “Coming right up” You smiled at her as she walked to a table. Michael leaned over the counter and whispered.

“Could you do one of those drawing people do in the coffee? She will love that. Thanks.” He gave you a kiss on the cheek and walked away, sitting close to Veronica in one of the booths just before he could notice the way your cheeks turned to a much brighter red.

An hour passes. Then two. Then two and a half. And you were standing there, acting as a witness of their chemistry. You cursed yourself as your eyes drifted towards them, watching them laugh and talk about life. It was clear that Michael was enchanted by her, moving closer and closer every time, and you could tell the feeling was mutual as she laid her delicate hand on his.

Of course Michael would go for the pretty girls. Veronica was gorgeous, you couldn’t pinpoint a single defect on that girl, not even with a magnifying glass and you hated that. You hated the fact that he brought her here, you hated the fact that you have to work while his love story unfolds like a Taylor Swift song, you hated that it you weren’t the one sitting next to him, talking about dreams and how everything just collides perfectly within the universe. But that’s not your story.

“Earth calling Y/N?” A voice calls in front of you “Hello?”

You blink a few times and stare at the tall blond man waving his hand in front of your face “Sorry, Luke. Didn’t see you there” You excuse yourself “What can I get for you?”

“The usual, but this time with at least four more shots of espresso. I have to put an all nighter again cause I have that stupid presentation and you are not listening to me again”

“Sorry, what? Four shots of espresso, yeah.” Your gaze averted his “Anything else?”

“Okay, what’s going on?” Luke followed where your eyes led and soon he was, too, staring at the reason of your distraction “Oh”

Out of the four of them, Luke was the only one who knew about your feelings for Michael. He was always very supportive and didn’t pressure you into confessing right away, knowing it must be hard for you. So he can’t imagine what is going on inside your head right now, watching the man you love on a date.

“He didn’t tell me he had a date” You told him.

“He mentioned this morning” Luke added “Said he met her at one of his classes and that she seemed cool. So he asked her out. He never told us he would bring her here “You clenched your jaw, trying to keep the tears at bay. Luke noticed that “I’m sorry, love. I thought he told you about it”

“She is gorgeous, Luke”

“She’s not you, though” You scoffed.

“Exactly”

“Y/N…”

“I’m fine,” You lied “Really, I’m okay. It was a silly crush anyway. And plus, look how happy he looks”

And it was true. Michael did look very happy chatting and flirting with Veronica. His smile reaching his eyes as she spoke and laugh at all his jokes. He truly must like her, and you… Well, some people are just meant to be the side character of another person’s story.

Luke let out a sigh, knowing well enough to assume you are just going to bury your feelings like you always do “He will soon realize what he’s missing”

************************************************

Well, six months passed and he still hasn’t realized. It’s been six month since that fateful evening where you got your heart broken by the man you love. It’s been six months since Veronica has been a constant part of your daily life, sleeping over, joining on movie nights and replaced your spot next to your best friend. It’s been six months of dressing more ‘girly’, wearing make-up and doing your nails, all of it trying to call Michael’s attention, to make you look more like Veronica, more like someone you are not. And all of that for what? You still ended up crying yourself to sleep almost every night.

Luke has been there for you all this time, letting you crash in his place whenever she came over and trying to distract you from the heartache by making jokes or goofing around, sometimes even letting you stay the night just to talk or cry or whatever you needed.

Tonight, however, it was a special night. Michael texted you saying that he finally found the movie you were dying to see for years! It was a special straight to dvd movie with Betty White that you remember it being your favorite growing up but you could never find it anywhere. And to say that you were ecstatic when Michael suggested a movie night for the two of you, would be an understatement.

You got the popcorn ready, ordered some pizzas and the ice cream was in the freezer. It was the first time in months that you would have time alone with Michael and, honestly, you missed him like crazy. Yes, you know he lives there, but it’s been a while since you guys actually talked or shared a good laugh together. Putting your feelings towards him aside, you just missed your best friend.

Suddenly, the bell rang. It wasn’t uncommon for Michael to forget his keys, so you weren’t really surprised.

“How many times do I have to tell you that we bought you that keychain for a reason and-“ But it wasn’t Michael standing at the door “Veronica.. I thought you were Michael”

The girl smiled, (really, not even a chip tooth?) “Yeah, he told me he’ll be a little late and that I should just go ahead” She said as she made her way into the apartment.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I love movie night!”

He invited her. It was a moment for the two of you and he invited her.

You couldn’t be mad, could you? She’s his girlfriend, after all. She could be here and he had every right to invite her, but… But it still hurt. You thought you’d be spending the evening with your best friend, he said you would. It was a special movie for the both of you, why invite her?

“Can I be honest with you, Y/N?” Veronica said, pulling you away from your mind.

“Uh, sure”

“I have to admit, I was really intimidated by you”

“By me? Why?”

“Well, when Michael talked about you I always thought I had to compete for his attention. It was always Y/N this, Y/N that… He assured me that you were just friends, but I didn’t believe him until I met you. I love that he has a friend like you. You really mean a lot to him so, thank you”

You nodded and muttered a “no problem”

She was right, you were just a friend of Michael’s. Why did you ever think you could be more? Especially with someone like her in his life? It was foolish, it was crazy. He would never look at you the same so, why keep trying?

“So, what are we watching?”

“Oh, um… I don’t know. I’m not staying” You said, hiding the pain in your voice.

“But Michael told me-“

“I’m spending the night at Luke’s today. I totally forgot”

You rushed out of the living room and went straight to your room, letting the tears fall as you started packing for a few days. You needed to get away as soon as possible. You couldn’t handle staying here at the moment, it hurt too much.

Just as you were packing the last pieces of clothing, you heard Michael opening the front door. And surely, a few moments later he was pushing yours open.

“What do you mean you’re not staying tonight?” He barged in.

Your back was facing him, so you couldn’t see him, you didn’t want to see him, but he sounded hurt. Quickly, you wiped your tears with the back of the hand and tried to muttered something close to an unbothered tone.

“I’m going to Luke’s”

“You always go to Luke’s, are you two a thing or something? Because you seem to live there more than here”

You let out a small laugh, was he really that dense?

“There’s nothing going on between me and Luke-“

“Then why are you always in his place?”

“It’s none of your business”

“Well, Y/N it is. It is because I wanted you to spend the night because we rarely see each other anymore and now you’re ditching me again!”

He raised his voice a bit, clearly frustrated and confused. That alone made your anger take the best of you.

“Oh please, as if you really want me here”

Michael frowned “What does that suppose to mean?”

“Why did you invite her?”

“Veronica? She’s my girlfriend, I though-“

“I know that she’s your girlfriend, I get it. It’s just-“ You took a deep breath, trying not to cry or scream or both “It’s just that tonight was special, and I wanted to share that with my best friend. Only with my best friend. But I feel like everytime we try to do something together she’s always there and-“

“You don’t like her?”

“What? No, that’s the worst part. I actually think she’s great” You turned around and closed your bag, ready to leave “Michael I’m not going start a fight, I’m going to stay with Luke for a while. Don’t wait up”

You made your way out of the room, but before you could reach the door Michael’s hand grabbed you by the arm, making you stop.

“Michael” You warned “Let me go”

“No, wait. What do you mean with ‘that’s the worst part’?”

“I’m not having this conversation right now.”

“Yes, you are” Michael made you turn around. You were now looking at him in the eyes, he seemed hurt but you,, oh, you were in pain “Y/N, what is going on? You’ve been avoiding me lately, you’re not staying home, you don’t talk to me anymore, you’re dressing differently and sneaking out everytime I’m here. Is it because of Veronica?” You shook your head, slightly “Then what is it? Why are you pulling away from me?”

“Because it’s too damn hard!” You say looking away from him, unable to contain the tears any longer.

Michael’s eyes winded at your answer. His lips parted in surprise at your sudden outburst, wanting nothing more than to hold you but knowing you won’t let him.

“What?”

“You don’t get it, do you? No, you never did” You cry silent tears as your voice comes barely above a whisper “I can’t stay here because it hurts. Everytime I’m here she’s here too, like a reminder of everything I’m not. And I’ve tried-“ you choke “I tried to look more pretty, to be more ‘girly’ and feminine, losing myself every day. Hoping that maybe you’ll notice”

“Notice what?” Michael said softly.

You let out a breath.

“That I’m in love with you, you idiot”

Michael was taken aback by your answer, but he still wasn’t letting go of your arm. You love him? That’s what’s this all about?

“But I know you don’t feel the same. You never did and you never will. After all, I’m just Y/N. Just ‘one of the boys’ am I not?” He didn’t respond “It’s okay, I came to terms with that, I wouldn’t expect you to say something anyways” You released yourself from his grip and grabbed the last bag that laid on your bed “I’ll stay with Luke tonight and I’ll pick up my stuff in a few days”

Michael shook his head, as if he just realized what you just said “Wait, you’re moving?”

“What do you want me to do, Michael? Stay here? Pretend that things will be the same after this?! Go and have a movie night with your girlfriend and say that everything’s okay when I’m tearing myself apart in front of you?” You ask out of anger “I can’t do that, Michael. I need time”

“Y/N-“

“Why do you care anyways? I’m not a main character in your life. I’m not the type of girl you would fall for, or that you would consider feminine enough. I’m not pretty enough or funny enough and I’m tired of that. I’m tired of being an afterthought”

You turned around, already reaching for the doorknob when Michael’s hand wrapped around your waist, twisting you so your back was pressed against the door and your eyes were on him.

“Y/N, you were never an afterthought” He breathed close to you.

“Michael, what are yo-“

“Stay, please” But before you could say anything else, you felt his lips on yours.

The kiss was everything you dreamed it would be. Fast, rough and passionate. His hands traveled down your spine as he deepened the kiss, getting more needy by the second. Your hands flew to his neck, bringing him even closer, wanting to feel every part of him. You wanted to let yourself go, to fill these long needed desire. But you couldn’t forget about the girl waiting in the living room.

With all the strength you could manage, you pushed Michael away from you as the tears came flooding down again.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” You spat at him in anger “You can’t do that to me. You can’t just kiss me and expect to fix everything. Who do you think I am?” You could tell he was trying to say something, but you were not in the mood to listen “I won’t let you do this to me. I won’t let you do this to her. I’m leaving, Michael. Get your shit together”

And with that, you ran through the door and didn’t look back.

A few hours later, you were settled in with Luke in his apartment. When you arrived, you asked him to please not say anything, that you weren’t ready to talk just yet. He just nodded and let you in.

You cried on his shoulders for what it felt like an eternity. Your head was pounding and your voice was hoarse. You’ve never felt so heartbroken before.

“C-can I stay here for a while? Until I find my own place?” You asked him.

“Of course, darling” Luke said, kissing your head “Take all the time you need”

You stayed like that for a while. He comforting you through your silent tears until you fell asleep.

A week passes by and you are not feeling any better. You haven’t been sleeping well and you’re barely eating despite Luke’s pleads. Ashton and Calum showed up one day to check up on you, but you still refused to talk about it. Maybe you were embarrassed, maybe the memory of that kiss was too recent, too painful to talk about. Maybe you just didn’t know how.

One night you fell asleep on the living room, the TV working as the background noise that drowned your thoughts. You were peacefully dreaming for the first time in days when the sound of muffled voices woke you up. You were still laying in the sofa, but Luke was nowhere in sight. That’s until you heard him talk.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea”

“Please, I need to talk to her” the other man pleaded.

Michael was standing at the door. He looked like a complete wreck. His hair was undone and a bit greasy from ruffling it with his fingers way too much, his eyes were bloodshot and glossy, still fighting to contain the tears in front of his friend.

“Look, man. I love you, but she doesn’t need this right now and-“

“Let him in, Luke”

The two tall men turned towards you. You were standing behind the sofa, your eyes never leaving Michael’s. Luke simply nodded and headed to his room, giving you the privacy you needed.

“I’ll be there if you need me” He said to you.

You muttered a small ‘Thank you’ to him before fixing your gaze upon Michael. He was still frozen by the door, unsure on how to say what he has to say.

Letting out a breath, you decided to break the ice “Michael-“

“I broke up with her” He said in one breath.

“You what?!”

“The night you left,,, I-I broke up with her because I couldn’t keep lying to myself anymore”

“What do you mean?”

He hesitantly took a step closer to you, afraid that he was overstepping again.

“All this time, for years, I’ve been avoiding my own feelings. Tucked them away at the farthest corner in my closet, hoping that they’ll fade soon. I couldn’t cope with them, I was too afraid to.

‘“I told myself that I was being foolish, immature and downright stupid for thinking that the girl I love would love me back. How could she? She was beautiful, shared my sense of humor, my interests and she was extremely cool. I told myself that a girl like that could never want me. But, strangely, she did, as a friend. And I was content with that, at least I would have her be part of my life.

‘“So I hid my feelings until I couldn’t see them, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t feel them. And every day I would remind myself that she was my friend and I was beyond lucky for that. I kept letting myself down on a daily basis, trying to keep the thoughts away, hoping that one day I could believe them. But I never thought of the consequences my actions had towards the girl.

‘“Y/N, when you left I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like a vital part of me was missing and you took it away with you. And I deserved it, I truly did. Y/N, I was an asshole”

“Michael,”

“No, I was. Hearing you say those things about yourself, like you were broken and needed to be fixed, it broke my heart, darling” His voice broke at the end, fighting helplessly to contain the tears that were burning behind his eyes “I- I never meant for you to think that I didn’t love you for who you were. That you needed to change in order to get me to like you. You shouldn’t change for anyone, love, you are absolutely perfect the way you are. You always have been and always will be.

‘“Y/N, you were never just ‘one of the boys’, you are my best friend, my soulmate and the best thing that has ever happened to me by far. I’ve always known that, but I was just too much of a coward to let it show and I’m sorry.

‘“When you told me you loved me, god. Y/N, I’ve never felt so happy and confused at the same time! I couldn’t fanthom the thought of you loving me, it seemed surreal after so many years of telling myself that it was impossible, almost like a cruel joke. But you did, and I could tell by your eyes that it was true, and I hated myself for that. I hated the fact that I was hurting you instead of loving you like I wanted to. I hated the fact that you felt like you had to leave in order for you to fix what I broke. I hated that I ruined our first kiss by a stupid impulse because you didn’t deserve that. You deserve the world and I was so scared of the fact that I might’ve lost the chance to be able to give it to you.

‘“ I broke up with her the night you left. It wasn’t fair to you, to her or to me to keep denying my feelings any longer. And I know that I don’t deserve it, but I’m standing here to ask you for forgiveness. I’m sorry that I made you feel less than you are. I’m sorry that I broke your heart. I’m sorry that I wasn’t brave enough to tell you this the moment you walked out the door that night. I will keep apologizing for the rest of my life if necessary, Y/N. But I just- I just don’t want to lose you”

You were standing in front of him. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you took in everything he said to you.

He loved you.

He loves you.

And you love him.

Michael was staring at his feet, too afraid to look up and see the disappointment in your face. To scared to lose you and everything you meant to him. Maybe coming here was a mistake, maybe you don’t want to know anything about him anymore. And he deserved that.

“Well,” You finally say, swallowing the lump in your throat “You still owe me that movie night”

His eyes light up as he saw you smiling at him. He returned it by grabbing you by the waist and pulling you closer to him. Leaning so your lips could met again.

Smiling into the kiss, you swore that you will never let go of the other again.

#michael clifford #5 seconds of summer #michael clifford imagine #5sos #suchalonelysunflower #michael clifford angst #michael clifford x reader #5sosfam #fanfic #michael 5sos #michael angst #ashton irwin #calum hood #luke hemmings #college au #michael gordon clifford #michael clifford gif #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer imagine #michael 5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #5sos angst #5sos fluff #5sos fic #5sos fanfic #luke 5sos #calum 5sos #ashton 5sos #CALM #michael 5sauce

[anogete]

Watch me vomit up my thoughts

It’s been a while, hasn’t it?  I’m sorry I’ve disappeared on everyone.  It’s been... a year.  I think that probably goes for everyone, not just me.  If you’re interested in a personal life update, then read on.  If you’re looking for an update on my writing then I regret to inform you that I haven’t written a single thing this year.  Maybe next year, though.  There is always next year, right?  I think I saw a blurb that we’re getting Sam and Bucky back in March.  And Loki shortly after.  Maybe that will be my inspiration.

I’m fortunate enough to have a job that lets me comfortably work from home.  I’m also fortunate enough to own a home.  And my last blessing is that I don’t have kids, so I didn’t have to figure out the nightmare of childcare and home schooling like some of you.  My library on the second floor of the house has been my office since mid-March.  I’ve been transitioning into the Associate Financial Advisor roll this year and that has been going well.  I’m supporting the clients I’ve worked with as an assistant for the past nine years, so it’s been easy-going.  I’m able to order my groceries for pick up to avoid going in the stores and I live in an neighborhood where it is easy to get delivery from restaurants.  I’m incredibly lucky to have all these things going for me and I am thankful every damn day.

I fell into a bit of a funk this spring and early summer, but managed to pull myself out of it in August.  I started planning my meals, walking 2-5 miles every day, and exercising on the Peloton bike I bought a year ago.  I also started reading again and zipped through almost 50 books between June and now.  By November, I was feeling strong and healthy.  I felt like I had found a balance between work and activity and self-care.  I was still coming to terms with my grandma passing in March of last year and with Ferguson (my sweet doggo) passing in September of last year.  But I was trying and things were getting better.  I felt like I had my feet underneath me.

Lemme stop you here if you don’t want to read about death and some general medical stuff.  Because that’s mostly what you’re getting from here on out.

On November 21st, my mom texted me at 5:30am.  I got it right away because I usually wake up around that time, alarm or not.  She said she had dropped my dad off at the hospital because he was having difficulty breathing.  Apparently, he’d been feeling bad for a week, but insisted to everyone that it was just his sinuses draining.  I called her and began questioning her like I was cross-examining a star witness.  I was able to piece together a really fucking shitty story.

My dad always went to a friend’s house on Friday evenings to have a couple beers and hang out.  We’d all warned him since March that he needed to stop, but he insisted it was fine.  He bought into a lot of the cavalier attitude that the Trump fans have over this virus. Plus, he was 64-years-old and didn’t take any medication so he probably thought it was no big deal.  He spent a few hours at his friend’s house on November 6th.  Unbeknownst to anyone at the time, he received a call from that friend on November 11th that the friend and the friend’s wife had tested positive for COVID.  He didn’t share this info with my mother, my brothers, or my uncle, all of whom had been near him.  By November 15th, he was coughing but insisted it was drainage when my mom suggested he take something for it and go to the doctor.  By November 18th, he was worse and admitted to my mom that his friend had tested positive but that he hadn’t seen him for almost two weeks so his problems were just sinus-related and not COVID.  My mom hates confrontation, so she accepted this and didn’t tell anyone, including me and my brothers.  By November 19th, he had a fever and was having trouble breathing along with a persistent cough.  He finally agreed to take some cold medicine, but refused to call his doctor’s office despite my mom asking him many, many times.  At 4:30am on November 21st, he woke my mom and asked her to take him to the hospital because he couldn’t breathe well.  She dropped him off and returned home to text me since they wouldn’t allow her in the building.  She also texted my brothers, who admitted that they felt like they’d had a cold for several days.  I live 4 hours away and haven’t traveled since March, so I hadn’t seen any of them.

A nurse called my mom a couple hours after she dropped my dad off to tell her that he was positive for COVID and pneumonia and they were admitting him to put him on a bipap.  From what I understand, that’s the oxygen mask that pushes air into your lungs.  Later that day, the health department called my mom and told her to quarantine for two weeks.  My mom cooperated and gave them my brothers’ phone number (they live together), my uncle’s phone number, and the name and number of the person we suspected my dad was infected by (his friend).  My brothers opted to get tested and were positive.  They quarantined for two weeks and had mild to moderate symptoms (brief fever, very tired, cough, drainage).  My mom had virtually no symptoms with the exception of some drainage that she took Mucinex for.  She didn’t get tested, but she lived and slept in the same bed with my dad for a week while he was symptomatic.  If my brothers got it from 30 minutes in the same room as him, surely she got it as well.  My uncle and his son got tested, but they were negative.

My dad was cooperative with the doctor and nurses at first, but as the first day wore on he became irritated.  He’d been without his chewing tobacco (yes, I know: eww) for several hours and was going through nicotine withdrawal, but wouldn’t admit that to the nurses or doctor.  The next day he was put in ICU, still on the bipap, and even more unruly and rude to the staff taking care of him.  They called my mom to ask her to talk to him and convince him to cooperate.  They said if he couldn’t recover on the bipap and required a ventilator then “things would be very bad.”  My mom tried to talk to him by text and he just continued to insist that he was well enough to come home.

I used to be close to my dad when I was a kid, but we’d grown apart over my adulthood.  Over the past 20 years, my dad morphed into someone different.  Everyone around him, especially my grandmother, told me they saw this happen the same as I did.  The result was that my dad became someone I didn’t like and didn’t want to spend time with.  He also didn’t seem to know how to talk to me anymore.  To be fair, I didn’t give him much help in that regard.  I texted him to see how he was doing and the conversation quickly devolved into him complaining about the care and insisting he was well enough to come home.  I tried to reason with him and appeal to his love for my mom by saying that my fear was him coming home and giving her the virus.  He told me that he’d decided he was no longer contagious and this was just a bunch of bullshit.  This conversation via text continued through Monday and Tuesday (November 23rd and 24th), but it took a turn for the delusional.  The doctor can only assume that the virus and the lack of oxygen had resulted in hallucinations and delusions.  My dad told my mother and I that he was in an office building owned by a man named Mr. Pritt.  He said he was the only patient and that this man was having his workers experiment on him and that they would eventually kill him.  He demanded that we come get him immediately so he could recover at home.  When we told him he’d die if he came home because he was too sick, he insisted he wasn’t sick at all and became very angry with us.  He accused both my mom and I of conspiring to kill him because we wouldn’t help him.  One day he told me that I’d confirmed what he’d known all along.  I asked him what that was and he said, “That I always loved you more than you loved me.”  This really hurt because even though I knew he was loopy, I also knew that he’d probably actually had that though before.

He began refusing treatment on those days and wouldn’t accept the steroids they were trying to give him and raised hell when they tried to take him for a chest x-ray.  He also told them he didn’t want to be placed on a ventilator even though he had agreed to one when he was admitted.  He was texting all of his friends and telling them he needed a ride home.  He attempted to get up and leave the hospital twice, falling in the floor both times because he was so weak from lack of oxygen once he took the mask off.  He also told my mom and I that he was secretly removing the mask when the nurses couldn’t see to prove to them that he wasn’t sick.  He was taking and sending blurry pictures to us of the room as “evidence.”  He told my mom to forward the pictures to “the feds.”  The pictures were of his hospital bed, the whiteboard with his nurses’ and doctor’s names on it, his IVs, etc.  By the morning of Wednesday, the 25th, I was getting some off-the-wall texts from him.  He was begging us to come check him out of the hospital at that point and we were trying to play along and tell him we were getting everything in order for him to come home soon.  Eventually, he told me that he wasn’t getting out of there alive and that he loved me.  I told him I loved him too and begged him to do whatever the doctor said because the doctor wanted to help him get better.

A few minutes later, the nurse called my mom and asked if she’d been on the phone with my dad.  My mom said she and I hadn’t spoken to him by any way other than text since he arrived at the hospital.  The nurse said he had been on the phone with a woman, trying to convince her to come get him.  The nurse made him put the call on speaker so she could tell the woman that he wasn’t well enough to leave.  Because she was concerned that her message didn’t get through before my dad hung up, she called my mom to make sure he hadn’t convinced my mom to check him out against medical advice.  My mom assured her that we had no intention of breaking him out of the hospital, but she didn’t know who the woman was.  It wasn’t her or me.  We called a long-time former co-worker of my dad’s that I’ve known since I was a kid and she said she hadn’t talked to him.  We called his best friend and asked if he’d called and spoken to the man’s wife.  Not her either.  More on this later.  I’m sure you know where it’s going.

We were stumped, but didn’t have time to deal with it because the nurse practitioner called and told my mom that my dad was delusional and could no longer make his own decisions.  They said he had no chance of survival if they didn’t put him on a ventilator immediately.  My mom called me.  I told her to agree to it.  The nurse called her back and gave the phone to my dad.  He had agreed to the ventilator as well and wanted to tell my mom that he loved her and me and my brothers and his dog.  His speech was slurred and muffled from the bipap mask, but she at least heard that.  They intubated him right after the call.  He was on a paralytic for a week.  When they backed off on the paralytic, they had to increase his oxygen.  A week later, the nurse tried to kindly tell us that he wasn’t getting better and his chances of survival were low.  She suggested we start to talk about turning off the ventilator and letting him go.  We did talk about that, which was very upsetting for everyone, but the doctor said he’d been on the ventilator for two weeks and we’d give him one more week to see what happens.  By this point, he no longer had pneumonia. But the damage COVID did to his lungs couldn’t be repaired.

The ventilator was on full blast (highest pressure, highest oxygen) just to keep him somewhat stable.  The days were ticking by and he still wasn’t making progress.  Any step forward was followed by a bigger step back. My mom would call and get the update from the nurse most days, but I did call myself a few days.  When I’d call and talk to the nurse, I’d get a grim picture that my mom didn’t seem to get or understand. I talked to her on December 12th and asked her if she was trying to protect my brothers and I or if she really thought he was going to get better.  She admitted that she’d had a feeling for days that he wasn’t going to get better.  We decided to just wait for the doctor to call.  The nurse called my mom on Monday, December 14th and told her that my dad’s blood pressure was all over the place and they were struggling to keep him stable, that the ventilator was turned up to the highest settings and it was barely enough to keep him going.  My mom texted me and told me she asked them to call me.  The doctor called me within about 20 minutes and basically told me that my dad wasn’t going to make it.  They’d had him on a ventilator for 19 days and within a couple days his throat tissue would likely become necrotic from the pressure of the cuff keeping the tube in place.  They could only continue the ventilator if they could put in a trach and he wasn’t stable enough for that.  In addition, he needed more support than the ventilator could provide.  I was told he was either going to go into cardiac arrest while on the ventilator and die or they’d be forced to take him off the ventilator because of the damage to his throat.  The most damning thing he told me was that he’d removed the sedation but my dad didn’t wake.  He wasn’t responsive, wouldn’t squeeze their hands, wouldn’t flinch when they tested his reflexes, nothing.

I was told we could come sit with him and say goodbye when the ventilator was removed.  I asked when and the doctor said soon.  I live 4 hours from my parents, so I told him I’d leave right away and have my mom call to make arrangements for me to come to the hospital.  I called my mom and told her all this and asked her to let the hospital know.  I packed a bag and rushed out the door.  On my way out of town, the doctor called me back and asked if I was on my way.  My mom had told them that we’d come by the next morning and he was worried my dad wouldn’t make it through the night.  So, I had to have a shitty conversation with my mom about how we couldn’t schedule my dad’s death for 7am on Tuesday, that it needed to happen at 8pm on Monday.  I do not recommend these types of calls.

I got into town around 7pm and picked my mom up because she’d decided she wanted to come with me.  My brothers said they couldn’t handle it and decided to stay at my mom’s house.  My mom and I were taken to the COVID floor, given gowns, and gloves, told he was COVID positive so we’d need to continue to wear our cloth masks (no medical mask, is that safe?!), and escorted to his room in the ICU.  Guys, he looked so fucking tired and so sad.  It was heartbreaking.  The nurse said their ICU was full and most of the patients were in the same shape as my dad.  We talked to him for a few minutes, held his hand and all that shit.  He didn’t respond in any way, so I don’t know if he was even there.  We stepped out of the room while they removed the tube and gave him some medicine.  When we went back in, his breaths were labored and it looked like he was gasping for air. My mom almost lost it because she wasn’t expecting that.  I told her she could go wait in the hall and I’d stay with him until he passed.  The nurse was kind enough to give him a little more medicine to make it less dramatic, but it was still difficult watching him breathe in that way.  My mom sat so she couldn’t see his head to make things easier on herself.  We sat there with him for about 40 minutes before he passed away at 8:32pm on Monday, the 14th.

I stayed with my mom last week and helped her arrange a private graveside service and the burial.  She wanted to do a funeral and I thought that was the worst idea, so we agreed on doing a celebration of life next year when things are a little better (hopefully).  To my knowledge, I haven’t had the virus.  I operated under the assumption that my mom and brothers had it and were immune for now and wouldn’t transmit it.  So, I was able to be with them without mask, but I did wear a mask when anyone else was around.  I can’t say the same for the fucking funeral director and the locksmith’s employee who opened my dad’s safe for us, though.  I live in a bigger city and mask wearing is pretty wide-spread here, but I saw so many people in my hometown (a more rural area) who didn’t bother with them.

Anyway, while all these graveside preparations are going on my mom goes through the bag of personal items from my dad that the hospital gave us.  She tossed his clothes in the washer and placed his two rings into a bag to give to the funeral home so he could be buried in them.  She also pulled out his wallet and his cell phone.  His wallet has a picture that was obviously cut from an old driver’s license of a woman named Deb.  Apparently, this woman lives in Florida and had attended junior high school with my dad.  About two years ago, my parents took a trip to Florida and visited with her for several days.  She even friended my mom on Facebook.  So, the old driver’s license picture of her was very weird.  What was even more disturbing?  His wallet also contained a plastic bag of hair that very obviously is not my mom’s.  And there was a piece of paper with three phone numbers on it.  His phone was locked with a PIN and was set to wipe itself after 20 incorrect tries.  I did tried to break into it, but wasn’t successful.  My mom admitted that she suspected he’d been talking to someone on his phone for years, but she never directly confronted him about it.  She’d just make comments about him always texting on his phone and being secretive.  Two Christmases ago he bought her a ring at a store that she has an online login to.  This particular store posts the receipts for all purchases linked to the customer’s account to the website.  She saw that my dad had purchased two pieces of jewelry even though she only received one.  My dad has never in his life bought me a Christmas present without my mom assisting, so she knew it wasn’t for me.  She still didn’t confront him, though.  She just told him that she could see the itemized receipts online.

I sympathized with my mom because I’ve experienced the infidelity of a partner in a relationship and if I were her then I’d want to know.  But I also told her that I don’t know digging into it will make things any better and may not even give her the truth.  He’s gone and there is nothing that can be done about that or anything else.  While I was running errands for her the day before the graveside service, she messaged Deb in Florida and asked if she wanted her picture back.  She also called the three phone numbers in his wallet.  One went to Deb.  The other two were the cell phone and work phone of my dad’s best friend’s wife, Anne.  The same friend and wife who likely gave the virus to my dad.  My mom told me when I got back that she’d done this and admitted she’d always felt like my dad was talking to Anne and might have an inappropriate relationship with her.  I suspect my mom is right.  Gut instinct is usually accurate.  She said she didn’t think anything physical was going on with Deb, but she did think my dad was carrying on a flirtatious relationship with her via text.  In both cases, he tried to hide it.  And if you hide it, then you know it’s wrong.  That night Deb messaged my mom back and said she had heard about what happened to my dad and was very sorry.  She said that my dad was always clear that he was married and nothing went on that was inappropriate, but that he gave her someone to talk to when her husband was sick and dying five years earlier and they’d always kept in contact.  Again, I don’t think my mom can count on anyone to give her the full story without spin or deceit.  A couple days ago, she texted me a picture of a receipt from my dad’s truck.  It was from last Christmas from a department store.  It had two pieces of jewelry on it.  She looked them both up using the UPCs listed and found the necklace he gave her last year and a ring she doesn’t recognize.  We don’t know if he was giving this jewelry to Deb in Florida or Anne, his friend’s wife.  Or someone else we don’t even know about.  And we’re probably never going to know.  Do I want to call Deb and Anne and tell them I want to full story?  Fuck yeah.  Do I think it will fix anything?  Fuck no.

TL;DR?  I finally found some balance in my life late this summer.  This balance was destroyed when my dad got COVID and died after three weeks in the hospital.  And when you’ve already got a not-so-great relationship with your dad, you get all kinds of feels when he dies in a traumatic way and then you find out he’s been screwing around on your mom.  I also have lots of anger toward him for knowingly exposing my other family members to the virus simply because he didn’t want to own up to getting it after doing something we’d all told him to stop doing.

Health-wise?  I think I’m okay.  It’s been almost ten days since I was with him in the hospital and seven days since his graveside service.  I haven’t had any symptoms yet and I think most people show symptoms by now.  Regardless, I’ve been at home since I returned last Thursday evening and I intend to stay home until January 2nd.  My boyfriend is also home and will be here until January 2nd as well.  Just to be safe.  My brothers are mostly recovered, but both still have a bit of a cough.  My mom never had much in the way of symptoms and seems fine.  My dad was 64 and overweight.  We found out once he was admitted to the hospital that his regular doctor had told him he was a diabetic and my dad insisted on “treating” that with cinnamon instead of actual medicine.  Other than those things, he didn’t have any health concerns.  Be careful, ya’ll.

#Anogete in real life #personal #covid_19 #fuck covid #family #death

[ursa-mediocre]

My dog died today, and it fucking sucks.

She’d had symptoms of a collapsing trachea for a while, mainly a weird cough when she got excited or if pressure was put on her neck. Around March she was due for a dental cleaning where they intubated her and I asked the vet if that’d be an issue but they didn’t seem worried about it so I went ahead with it. Afterwards she had a different sort of cough for a long enough time that I contacted the vet again and they said it was most likely irritation from being intubated that should clear up. I did make her an appointment when I called but it was for a couple weeks out and in between then the cough did get better to the point I considered cancelling it.

A week before her appointment she had what turned out to be an arthritis flair up and I took her to the Emergency Vet and so decided to keep the appointment at her vet. At the appointment the vet was more worried about the cough while I was more worried about the arthritis since the cough was sorta back to pre-intubation frequency. He prescribed a tapering course of prednisone which seemed to help both issues a lot but there wasn’t any discussion of follow up after the course was over. But during and a couple weeks after she was fine so I wasn’t too worried about it.

Then a few weeks ago she started coughing again, and it was sort of up and down. I wanted to wait and see if it’d improve when the weather did, because at this point I was feeling like every time I went to the vet freaked out about something I left feeling silly. Tuesday I finally made her an appointment, but they were booking out a month so it wasn’t until August 17th.

Today my family is having a memorial service for my uncle who died a few months ago, because his family wanted to bury him here but lived on the west coast. After the service the plan was to have people over our house, so we’ve also been preparing for that and have had people over the last two nights (she got lots of affection from my cousin’s kids which was nice).

Last night she was coughing really bad. I could hear her pacing in the hall, going back and forth between my parents’ room and my room. I’ve been giving her honey to try and help sooth her throat, and tried to get her to calm down, but it seemed like she couldn’t lay down without immediately having to stand up and cough.

Around 4 AM I took her to the emergency vet. I thought they’d just have to give her some sedatives or cough suppressants and maybe a prescription for steroids or anti-inflammatories. They put her on supplemental oxygen and said she’d probably have to stay the day to stabilize and then they’d take chest X-rays to see what was up and let me know.

So I got home around 5:30 and tried to sleep, and they called me around 2 hours later to tell me that she was still having trouble breathing, and they weren’t able to take X-rays yet but had done an ultrasound and found fluid in her lungs and asked me for permission to intubate and do CPR if necessary, which I’ve been asked about for other procedures so I consented not thinking they’d actually have to.

Then they called again an hour later and said that they had intubated her, lost her heartbeat, were performing CPR, and asked how quickly I could get there.

My mom drove me and when I got there they had gotten her heartbeat back but she wasn’t aware of anything. They took me to see her, and said that they weren’t sure if the fluid was from congestive heart failure, a blood clot, pneumonia, or irritation from the collapsing trachea, but that she’d probably need to go on a ventilator for any further treatment. We opted to try to get chest X-rays before deciding because she said that heart failure could possibly be treated. But when they went to do that they lost her heartbeat again so I had make the decision to let her go.

It was kind of funny when we got back to the room she was in because this tiny dog was surrounded by like a dozen women (one was standing on a chair?) and they had just gotten her heartbeat back again. But the vet had them unhook her from everything and took us to a room to sit with her. I held her wrapped up in a blanket like a baby. I couldn’t help but think that my own mother there with me had lost an actual baby and how unbearable that seems when my heart’s this broken over a dog.

I don’t know how long she was actually still alive while we sat there. There were a couple tiny coughs and noises when they first handed her to me but I don’t remember feeling her try to breath at all (she had had to be intubated after all, so she probably couldn’t). I told her I was sorry, because I was. I wish I had been a better medical advocate for her with her own vet, because not being able to go into the room with her through covid during appointments made it really difficult to know if they were seeing what I was seeing with her. I wish I had taken her in sooner. I wish I had known at 4:30, when she climbed into my lap as we pulled into the parking lot, that I should have said a proper goodbye then rather than immediately hand her over to the vet tech that came for her. I wish I had spent every moment I could have with her, giving her non stop attention. I told her that I loved her. I told her she was the best dog. The best Lola she could be.

I had to remember to call her previous owner, a girl that’s a few years younger than me. We had had visits every so often after I got Lola, but hadn’t in over a year because of covid. She texted me a few months ago saying that if it were possible she wanted to be with Lola when her time came. Part of the reason I wanted the X-rays was to get even a day or two so we could do proper goodbyes. But I had her talk on the phone with her instead, even though I knew she wasn’t really with us anymore.

I told her my plan was to have her cremated so she could have some of the ashes. We went over that with one of the vet techs, who helped set it up with a facility they partner with. She offered to take a paw print and I had had her make it with her paw that was missing a toe because that was uniquely Lola.

Lola hated people touching her paws. She never would’ve sat still in my lap for so long. She hated getting wet, she wouldn’t go for walks in the rain, and the top of her head was soaked in snot and tears. In her younger days if she caught me crying she’d try to lick up all my snot and get up my nose because she loved the taste of boogers. Her tongue was sticking out the whole time and turning blue before I finally stuck it back in her mouth.

I didn’t want to stop petting her. Her fur was so soft. Her little ears were so perfect and round from her last haircut. I don’t want to pet my dad’s dog because it feels like a betrayal. They walked her to the door with us, but wrapped her back up kind of clumsily so her back legs and tail flopped out and up like how she used to sleep when she was younger and it was hot. I used to grab them and call them her ‘lil chicken legs’.

I don’t want to think about where she is right now. Everyone there was very kind and respectful, I know the practicalities of body storage. I don’t actually want her to be cremated, but I also don’t want to bury her. I just want her to be here, I want to touch her fur and see her dumb foxy face. But I’m not about to fucking taxidermy my dog.

So now it’s about 2:30. My dog has been dead at least 5 hours. I hate it so far.

My dad and older brother were waiting outside when we got home. I put her paw print in the fridge until we can bake it. I went into the living room and saw her bed on the floor and had to go back outside for a minute. I poured out the water bowl I kept in my room for her. My family left for the memorial service, I tried to sleep more. Around 1:30 I got up and ate something for the first time today. There are people coming to the house soon to mourn an actual human.

I have to cancel her vet appointment. I have to cancel her CareClub and flea & tick medicine subscription. I have to clean her dishes, beds, toys, etc and figure out what to do with them. There are still treats in ‘her’ backpack, the one I would take with us hiking so she could ride in it when she got tired.

My family is very supportive, I have savings to cover whatever the final medical expenses will be. Lola was 14 (and 1/2!) and spoiled rotten. I hope she knows I loved her and did my best to take care of her. I hope she knows that’s why I took her to the hospital and wasn’t too scared there.

I’m not good at talking about my feelings. I just end up crying and I don’t like crying so I try to avoid it. I don’t really want or need anything other than for this not to have happened, which isn’t something anyone can provide. I think writing this all out has helped. But this happened today, and it fucking sucks.

#weeb problems #animal death #tw animal death #Lola girl

[eirian-houpe]

Tuesday - Chapter 2

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV), Stargate Universe

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Belle (Once Upon a Time)/Nicholas Rush

Characters: Nicholas Rush, Gloria Rush, Belle (Once Upon a Time), unnamed OC

Additional Tags: going round in circles, Time Travel, Alternate Universe, Angst, Eventual Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Summary: When you go poking around in time, you might sometimes find that it pushes back, as Nick Rush finds out… the hard way.

Read previous chapters on AO3

Chapter 2 - Do I know you

The windshield wipers moved back and forth across his field of vision so quickly they were a blur, and still he could barely see for the driving rain. Exhaustion pulled at Nicholas Rush like a man that had lived ten thousand years in a single lifetime.

“Shit!” He voiced the sudden epiphany aloud and slammed on the brakes, then spent the next few seconds turning the wheel one way and then the other, using more energy than he had, to control the slide as the tires lost traction on the rain soaked road and the car glided almost gracefully into the hedgerow, and the ditch before it.

He hissed out the expletive as the seat belt tightened around his chest to prevent his fall.

“Fuck!” he snarled again and slapped both hands against the steering wheel, before reaching for the key to try and restart the stalled vehicle. The engine coughed, but nothing more. It probably wouldn’t have made a difference even if he had got it going again. He’d never be able to get out of the ditch, not by himself. He had no choice but to call for help.

The irony wasn’t lost on him that he had communicated across galaxies, and yet as he struggled to pull his cell phone out of his pocket, the words, No Service, glared at him from the top of his screen. He let out another snarling string of colorful language that became a fragile, humorless chuckle as he remembered that he hadn’t done any of that yet, and wondered whether this was the reason the Ancients had created the communication stones in the first place. He knew otherwise, but it was an amusing fantasy and stopped him from losing his temper completely.

He turned and peered into the darkness, seeing nothing but the driving rain. It would do him no good to stay with the car, if the last few hours were anything to go by, this was a road not often traveled. There would be no one come by any time soon. 

With a sigh, he slipped the phone back into his jeans pocket and reached for his jacket from the back of the car, trying a second time once he’d released the seat belt, and twisted one way then another to pull it on before he opened the door.

No sooner that, than the wind driven rain blew into his face, and he began to sink into the rain soaked mud underfoot as he stepped out of the car. He leaned back in to pick up the things from the passenger seat, then slammed the door and hurried to the higher, firmer ground of the black top.

A faint feeling of Deja Vu gripped him as he looked first one way and then the other. He’d done this before, and he still had no idea where he was, or which direction he needed to go, but figured that since he hadn’t passed anywhere that looked as though it had a phone he could use, it would serve him better to continue on in the direction he’d been driving. That would be for the best.

He was soaked within seconds, and cursed himself for a fool with almost ever step, until the faint, golden glitter of light ahead sparkled off the falling rain. He breathed a sigh of relief, and put his head down, to move more quickly through the downpour.

By the time he reached the cottage, he was soaked right through to his underwear, and after knocking tried to wait as patiently as he could, listening to the faint sounds of movement from within, but after several long moments of standing with the cold rain trickling down the back of his neck, he lifted his hand to knock again.

The door was opened by a small brunette, who had a shocking white stripe descending from one temple. His belly tugged at him, sending the smallest of waves lower, to center in his groin, and he covered the sensation with an apologetic cough.

“I erm… I wonder if you have a phone I could use?” he began as the blue eyes looked him up and down. “I had a wee accident further down the road and—”

She smiled and stood aside with a gesture for him to come in. It cut him off mid explanation, and as she closed the door behind him she said, “I’ll find you some towels. Can’t have you standing there wet through, you’ll catch your death.”

The sense of deja vu fluttered though his belly again as did the strengthening of the unexplained attraction that had warmth building in his groin, and her familiarity pulled at him like an itch he couldn’t scratch or an elusive word on the tip of his tongue.

…He wrapped an arm around her waist, another into her hair, to tug her closer as they shared the heated, desperate kiss, tongues tangling…

He jumped and gasped slightly as her soft voice shattered the unexpected vision, but he could still feel her, taste her, smell the rose of her perfume.

“There’s a fire lit, if you want to get warm.”

“Thank you,” he managed, his voice thick with the desire he remembered, but knew he had never shared, and as a distraction to his obviously addled, sleep deprived mind, started to follow the sound of the crackling wood that beckoned, warm and inviting, as was the faint aroma of cinnamon that replaced the scent of roses which he smelled with every breath.

She returned a moment later, carrying a towel under one arm, and what looked like pajama pants and a folded bath robe in her hands. These she set down on the chair beside the fireplace.

“Did you find what you were looking for, Nicholas?”

The question, asked so casually, almost stopped his breath, and frowning, he looked down at her again, finally entertaining that the feelings of deja vu meant something more than his mind playing games with him. 

“We’ve…” 

He turned her, releasing her with one arm to sweep the things from the top of the desk in almost the same moment that he lifted her to it, and she giggled playfully as she started in on the buttons of his shirt.

“…met, haven’t we?” he asked, his tone tight with the effects of the new vision.

The homeowner chuckled and pressed the towel against the middle of his soaked chest. “We have,” she said. “But it was quite some time ago.”

“You’re going to have to try and be a bit more specific than that,” Rush glanced round at Brody, the illusion with which Destiny was currently tormenting him, “if you expect me to produce the desired results instead of, oh, I don’t know, flying us straight into the sun instead of around it?”

“There’s no need to be quite so testy, Doctor Rush.” Brody-Destiny said.

“Testy,” Rush actually looked up from the small notepad in which he was scribbling as, ahead of them, the star loomed closer and closer. “That’s rich coming from the likes of you.”

Brody… Destiny said nothing.

About to return to his work, Rush thought better of it and pointed at Brody for a moment as he said, “In fact, ever since I set foot aboard this ship, you have been the most objectionable piece of hardware I’ve ever had the misfortune to work with. Your interface is counter intuitive. Your AI, quite frankly, is temperamental at best and bordering on hostile most of the time, and when you don’t get your own way you resort to threats to make sure that we do as you say.”

He turned back to his notes then, consulting the complex mathematics he was working over multiple pages, and making cautious inputs into the navigation array in front of him.

“Wow.” It wasn’t Brody’s voice that answered him, but Gloria and a part of him cringed inwardly. What the hell made Destiny think she would be able to motivate him to solve the equations. “I love you too, Nick.”

She reached up to run her fingers through his long hair, but he swatted away the touch, much as he would have done a mosquito.

“Again,” he said with exaggerated patience, “the possibility of survival, provided I get my calculations right, or certain destruction in the heart of a dying star. Your choice.”

“Fine,” Gloria said and took a step back. “Calculate away. Don’t let me stop you.”

He put his head back down to his calculations for barely a moment before he felt Gloria’s eyes - well Destiny’s replica of Gloria anyway - boring into the back of his head and with a sigh, he half turned and said, “With you looking over my shoulder, that’s not likely to happen, is it?”

“Oh, I… would you perhaps like someone,” Gloria said, directly over his shoulder this time.

“…Less distracting,” Doctor Jackson finished, from the exact same spot.

“I’d prefer y’weren’t here at all, actually,” Rush snapped. “It’s not helpful and it’s not going to make me work any faster.”

“Killjoy!” Jackson snorted, “I knew someone once, had a bumper sticker on the back of their car that said, The closer you get, the slower I drive. They thought it was hilarious but—”

“Doctor Jackson!” Rush looked pointedly over at the far side of the room.

“Fine, fine,” Jackson muttered, moving away.

“Anyone would think you find him threatening.” Brody again, and this time, Rush looked up and almost snarled at him.

“If you must be here, then I wish you’d at least stick with one form instead of changing every two seconds.”

“Well, who would we—” Brody cut himself off. “Oh, I know.  How about…”

“Hello, Nicholas.”

Rush was fairly sure he’d never heard the voice before, though was somewhat surprised - or perhaps disappointed - that Destiny hadn’t chosen Amanda to be her spokesperson. He glanced up from the calculations again, to take in the small brunette with the deepest blue eyes he thought he’d ever seen. A complete stranger to him though, and yet also intimately familiar.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” he said, a ridiculous question as of course he knew her. She was Destiny.

“Not yet,” she answered enigmatically, “but you will… quite well, as a matter of fact.”

He stared at her as though she had suddenly grown an extra head. “I beg your pardon?” he asked, surprised beyond measure - completely caught off guard.

“The star, Nicholas,” she answered softly, nodding toward the view screen. “You can satisfy your curiosity later - when we’re not all in imminent danger of being toasted to a crisp.”

“Hmm?” At his confused, distracted query she gestured again to the star fast approaching - though the truth were the other way around - Destiny’s forward viewer. “Yes, yes of course.”

Rush turned his full attention to the remaining elements of the calculation, and began rapidly punching data into the console on the arm of the pilot’s seat. He glanced over his shoulder at the figure still standing, calmly, watching the approaching star, a strange look of fond amusement on her face.

“You might want to hold on for this,” he said.

Brilliant heat and light stretched reality, like molten glass being blown on the end of a glass worker’s tube, and around him, Destiny stretched and buckled, and the light grew until it became too bright for him to see, and he screwed up his eyes, until at last, the light faded.

"Okay, who can tell me the significance of Shaw’s algorithm?”

The student stood, answered, his words all bending into one meaningless speech. He’d heard it before, it was no more helpful now than it was then.

It made his head ache at the temples. This was where it originated anyway and he remembered, if memory was what this was; if seeing visions of some point in time that he was visiting, painfully so, again and again could be called memory, risking everything in order to gain… what? 

The future-memories were already fading, faster this time than the last. That wouldn’t do… that would never do.

If he forgot now, he’d just go through the motions, same old, same old - wouldn’t remember that the Gloria he carried in his head told him… will tell him… that he was not the man she fell in love with and that it was her death made him callous.  Was that true? Had he… would he become that way?

He shook his head at himself. He had to find a tense for this - a way to refer to events in this never ending loop. A way to remember. Longer.

If he could do that, perhaps he could find that one key moment around which everything pivoted, and could make a change, a real change. Break the cycle. Find the answer.

Did you find what you were looking for?

He blinked, just as Gloria’s friend came running down the corridor after him… calling his name, reminding him that he had somewhere to be. Could this be it? Could this be the one factor that would send his life, and those of everyone else, veering off down another, gentler path?

He made it from the university to the oncology department in record time - less time than it should have taken. His dashboard clock read 4:06 as he hurriedly parked the car, barely pausing to lock it, before racing for Doctor Browning’s office, arriving breathless just as Gloria was being shown into the ‘inner sanctum.’ Surprised to see him - hadn’t he told her he wouldn’t be there - she smiled up at him as she sat down, and he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, both to her and to the Doctor who entered from another door with a file folder in his hand. “Traffic.”

“It’s all right,” Gloria told him, and took his hand to squeeze it tightly as he pulled up a chair beside her. She wasn’t to know that on every other occasion, she’d been there alone.

He sat in his office, chewing on the side of his finger as he contemplated the argument in one of the student’s papers and almost jumped when the phone rang.”

“Yes,” he answered curtly, only then noticing the time - 4:46.

“It’s back.” Her voice sounded tight. As though she were trying not appear upset or anything other than resigned.

“I had a feeling,” he said.

“You did? You… you never said so.”

“No,” he confessed, guilt crowding in on him.  He should have said.  He shouldn’t have blown her off that morning with empty platitudes, when the real reason he didn’t want to go with her to the doctor’s appointment was that he was afraid. Terribly afraid.

“I can’t go through this again, I can’t.” She wept then, and he didn’t know what he should say - what he could say. “Nick? Nick are you there?”

He squeezed back as the doctor sat, opened the file, and took a breath, preparing to tell them what they both feared. This wasn’t his answer.

The room above his head spun as he levered himself up, reaching for the bottle and the glass, bring them together to pour a stream of amber liquid into the tumbler, and then straight into his mouth. Half of his drunken self wondered why he didn’t just abandon the glass altogether.

“Cut out the middle man,” he slurred, even while pouring another couple of fingers into the whiskey glass.

“Pardon?” A voice interrupted his valiant attempt to get so hammered that he didn’t remember he’d lost— He frowned then. How the hell did this man get into his house. Hadn’t he locked the door? Doctor Jackson evidently caught his sour expression, and immediately added, “I’m… sorry, I… I rang the bell several times, the er… door was open.”

“Yes,” he agreed, sitting up and rubbing at his bleary eyes.

“I’ve got some great news,” Jackson said. “Our source among the Lucian Alliance has come through. We’ve got the location of a planet that just might suit our power requirements.”

He looked up at the man, blinking as he picked up his glasses, and put them on. The world became clearer, but no less unstable… still spinning. “Then let’s go,” he said, and when Jackson made no move he added, “What are we waiting for?”

“I’m… thinking maybe it’d be better if we, er… You should maybe sober up first, hmm?” Jackson leaned down to help him up, and Rush could tell by the expression on his face that he must smell as bad as he suddenly felt, a thought confirmed a moment later, when Doctor Jackson added, “Aaand maybe a shower and a change of clothes.”

Water, like hot needles fell down over his head, cascading onto his body, chasing away the fog that marred his brain, but forming a swirling mist at his feet. He covered his hands with soap, and used the soap to scrub away the foul sweat that his body expelled, remnants of the alcohol with which he was drowning himself, numbing himself to his grief.

As the numbness lifted, memories flooded in. Her face, her smile, the way he’d let her down - put work before his love for her, for fear of losing her, and losing her anyway; throwing himself into the depth of despair that could only be born by driving himself to the edge of exhaustion with work, or as then, at the bottom of a bottle.

He laid his forehead on the class of the shower, his mouth open, his body wracked with silent sobs, swallowed by the steam still rising in the captive compartment and…

…Rush shuddered, taking a huge, uncomfortable breath as the stasis field faded, then blinked out and he slumped against the perspex door that began to lift away, rising to deposit him on the cold of the deck; his shallow breath fogged in the frigid air.

“No, no, no,” he gasped.

Coughing, still shivering, Rush rolled onto his back, forcing his eyes open and searching through the blurred vision for something, anything, that might get him out of the deadly nature of his situation. He spotted the lone EVA suit against the glass of the last closed and functioning stasis chamber.

He reached with a hand that was fast becoming numb, grasped the ridge of the wall and began to drag himself toward it.

“Not again… Not. Again.”

#rushbelle #au #time travel #going round in circles #angst #eventual smut #hurt/comfort #tuesday

[norskkitten]

You’re only a fool if you give up, boy

They’ve been talking about it for weeks. Even though Matteo wasn’t so keen on doing this, it felt like world’s greatest idea to them. Carlos has been bragging about his relationship with Kiki, how great it is to have that special someone in your life. Abdi, still doing nothing about his big ass crush on Sam, also thought it would be perfect for Matteo to finally get some female attention. Don’t get it wrong, he’s had plenty of attention - he would let girls flirt with him, especially during nights out with his friends, always being careful not to flirt back, keeping his “cool guy” attitude. He would let them kiss him every once in a while (if he was drunk enough), trying not to think about how every touch made his chest clench. There was that one party, over a month ago, where he ended up shaking, struggling to breathe after a tiny brunette was forcing herself on him in the corner of someone’s living room. Hooking up at parties was how most boys lived their life, but Matteo felt humiliated. He was overwhelmed, the party was much more than he could handle and after running away, he hadn’t gone out of his room for three days.

 And Matteo loved these fools. They were getting on his nerves, always talking about girls and sex, but they were his friends. Jonas, however... He was hoping Jonas would stand up for him, understand that Matteo doesn’t need girlfriends to be a decent guy (not that he was, in any way, a decent human being) and just let him live his lonely life. So when Jonas came up to their table on Tuesday with a smirk on his face, Matteo felt his heart sink.

 “Good news! I got you a date tomorrow. Her name is Sara, she’s taking Maths with me. She’s blonde, she’s sweet and she doesn’t think you’re a loser.”

 Matteo feels betrayed. He knows the girl, he has seen here a few times in the hallway, always with another blonde by her side, constantly chatting and giggling. She seems nice and she probably is, but that’s not the problem. Matteo just doesn’t feel like dating anyone. He hadn’t had any interest in love since... well, since his crush on Jonas. He would never admit that, but his feelings for his best friend made him question his sexuality and he decided it’d be better to just back off. Better to back off than to admit he might not be what people expect him to be.

 “Luigi! Sara is hot, he got you a good one” he hears one of his friends say, but he doesn’t want to hear it. He thinks maybe if he pretended he never heard it, it wouldn’t be true.

 Much to his dismay, it is still true. Boys keep talking about how amazing this Sara girl is and Matteo can not go through all the reasons why being single is good to him again. His brain is screaming, because as pretty and friendly as she sounds, he still finds no attraction to girls recently. His mouth doesn’t say anything, because he’s a stupid bastard and he can never stand up for himself. He can’t say no.

 So that’s how it is. He’s got a date tomorrow.

 ***

The boys all crash at Matteo’s after school on Wednesday to help him get dressed and to make sure he makes it to his date in the first place. Carlos tries to talk him into wearing a shirt - something he hasn’t worn since, like, 5th grade, but he insists on staying in his way-too-big t-shirt with a pattern that looks a bit like dirty stains (and maybe there are stains too, Matteo isn’t sure). Abdi slaps his hand when he reaches for one of his oversized grandpa sweaters and Jonas finds a grey hoodie he’s only had on three times before, so he’s positive it doesn’t smell that bad. They fight a little and Abdi runs after him with a hairbrush, bu he lets it go and then they just play Zelda until it’s time to leave.

 They are supposed to meet on Alexanderplatz and when he gets there, he still has seven minutes left. He purposely missed the bus, but the boys said he has to be early to make a good impression and made him catch another one only two minutes later. Standing there, he thinks of excuses to leave.

1. His flatmate called. He was dreaming about their date so hard that he forgot to turn the water off and now there’s a big flood going on.

 2. He was so stressed about their date he got nauseous and he’s really, terribly sorry, but he feels like throwing up, so maybe they could meet some other day.

 He tries to come up with another one when Sara catches his eye. It still startles him a little. And the thing is, Sara looks like a nice girl. She is pretty and she’s playing with her hair as she’s making her way to him, sending him a nice smile. He tries his best to smile back, because she’s just a nice girl and she doesn’t know how much he doesn’t want to be there and she probably deserves someone better than him.

 “Hey.”

 Her voice is soft. She seems shy, still smiling at him.

 Matteo isn’t shy. He wants to get the fuck out of here.

 Instead, he nods a little and points to the nearest cafe.

 “Na. Would you like some coffee?”

 “I’d love that.”

  ***

 Now, the thing is, Matteo really hates coffee. He doesn’t really drink much, which probably isn’t the best, but he just finds it hard to care. Suggesting the cafe was his first reaction, because he didn’t want to sound like a dick and greet her with a “flat flood” or throwing up. He orders an espresso, the real Italian he is, thinking it’d be better to drink it rather than a regular sized coffee. Sara, on the other hand, gets an extra sweet caramel macchiato and seems content about it.

 Sara talks. A lot. She talks about school, about her best friend (Matteo learned her name is Leonie), the things they like to do, the music she listens to. Matteo tries to keep his focus and throws some “mmm” and “yeah” in, because that means he doesn’t have to speak much himself. Sara doesn’t seem to mind - she goes on about a party on Friday she would like to go to and the latest movie she would like to see.

 “Well, if you’d like, there’s a cinema around the corner. We could go there.”

 Her eyes lit up and she looks so happy Matteo has to hold his breath. He offered to see the movie with her because going to the cinema would mean they didn’t have to talk anymore. He’s sure he’s hardly said like ten sentences the whole afternoon and the idea of not having to talk, and not having to listen either, makes him feel a little better. He wishes he could just go back to his bed and lay there sleepless forever.

 They head to the cinema. Matteo doesn’t even finish his coffee, while Sara was done with hers after half an hour, and he wishes he could smoke some weed instead. It takes them five minutes to get there and now they’re both staring at a giant poster of Aladdin, Sara talking about how excited she is and how much she loves the actors. Matteo doesn’t really know any of them. He remembers watching Aladdin as a child. He’s not really in a mood for romance right now - neither on-screen nor in real life.

 They go inside and Matteo is taken aback by the amount of people inside. Yes, he knew Alexanderplatz is a popular place in the city (he had a hard time waiting for Sara, there were people everywhere and he really wished he could be home), but he still didn’t expect it to be this crowded. Sara still has a wide smile on her face and can’t stop chattering while they stand in line to the register.

 He’s tired. It’s really loud here, all these people talking and street noise coming through the door. His head starts to ache. He asks Sara how long is the film and he immediately regrets it when she says it’s over two hours. He can feel his face going numb from all the fake smiles he’s trying to put on and his heart starts to beat louder while the line is slowly moving forward.

 Sara seems a little worried about the look on his face and she asks if he’s feeling okay. He opens his mouth to say he is fine, that everything is great, when he sees it. Sees Him.

 “Matteo? Is something wrong?” she repeats the question, but Matteo is frozen.

 He can’t stop staring. The guy at the register is chatting with one of the customers and when he throws his head back, laughing at something a boy in front of him said, Matteo is blushing. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen so much happiness in his entire life.

 He’s snapped out of it by his date’s hand in front of his face.

 “Yeah, I’m good.” says Matteo. And he means it. Looking at that guy made him feel like he could move any mountain in the world. God, his smile. He could sin all his life if it meant he gets to see that smile again.

 Three boys go away from the cash register and Matteo realizes it’s their turn. Sara takes him by the hand and he follows her wide-eyed, because, to be fair, it’s not her hand he would like to hold right now. The guy offers them a wide smile, still looking happy after his previous conversation and Matteo thinks he might melt to the ground.

 “Hello. What would you like to see today?” the guy asks and Matteo swears he got chills in places he never knew he could get it. His voice is so deep, yet so soft and everything inside Matteo is screaming you because he would like to see him. He would like to see him every fucking day he lives on this earth.

 “Could we get two tickets for Aladdin, please?” Sara links their fingers and Matteo can’t help but wince. He takes a look at their hands and when his eyes go back to the boy’s face, there’s a tiny bit of worry. Matteo suddenly feels uneasy, shame taking over him as he looks to the ground, wishing he could disappear.

 “There’s one starting in 15 minutes. Is that good?” the guy asks and Matteo wants to look at him, wants so badly to look at his olive skin, his dark curly hair and the smile that made him feel like it’s going to get better. He doesn’t.

 “Yes, it’s perfect!”

 They chat for a bit and Matteo doesn’t seem to catch anything they are saying, still staring at his feet. There’s a quiet cough and he finally looks up to them. Looks up to him. His eyes are warm brown and he shoots him a reassuring smile and he keeps looking at him, asking if he wants to pay in cash or by card. And Matteo has no idea what he’s talking about, until he remembers he’s on a date. With a girl.

 As bad as it sounds (and it sounds really bad, especially because Matteo is broke and the tickets are fucking expensive, he already paid for their coffees), it’s a perfect opportunity to step back from her, because he obviously couldn’t take his wallet out of his pocket with only one free hand. He pays with his card and when the guy asks him if he needs a receipt, he says yes, because he wants him to hand him the receipt and he wants to hold his hand and- fuck.

 Matteo only thinks about it for a second before he’s being handed the receipt and their fingers brush. He wants to grab his whole hand and hold it and then grab the guy and hold the guy but he’s not a retard so he takes a step back, the document still in his hand so Sara can’t hold it. After he printed out two tickets for them, he reaches to hand them to Matteo, but Sara is the first to take them and she looks excited and happy and Matteo couldn’t care less.

 The guy guides them where to go and tells them to enjoy the movie. He sends Matteo one last smile and Matteo wants to say something, wants to tell him everything, but he’s on a date with a girl and there are people waiting in line and he has to get this shit to an end. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SECOND PART: https://norskkitten.tumblr.com/post/185410831036/youre-only-a-fool-if-you-give-up-boy-part-ii ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Uh, I got an idea and I thought I could go with this. I haven’t written anything in, like, at least 3 years. It’s almost 3am and it’s not edited and it’s not even finished, because i’m not sure if I want it in parts or I’ll just write an ending to this and make it a shot. But I love the idea and I ship it so hard.

#david schreibner #matteo florenzi #matteo x david #matteohno #da_vid.gif #sara adamczyk #druck #skam #skam germany #skam remakes #lgbt #transgender #gay #closeted #cinema #movie #fanfiction #fiction #story #drucktranslations #david #matteo #matteo x beanie boy #abdi #carlos #jonas #ok.cool #aladdin #berlin #davenzi

[scarlet-star-witch]

Never Enough (Jim Hopper/OC) - Part 2

Summary: Devon and Jim find themselves in a whirlwind romance, the kind that swept the both of them off their feet. While things in Hawkins start to take a turn for the worst, Devon realizes she and her son are more involved in this small town conspiracy than she ever would have believed. At least she has the surly but loveable Chief on her side and in her arms.

Part 1

ABBA played loudly throughout the studio, almost bursting her ear drums. Being a single mother meant she didn’t get a lot of alone time, but when she was painting in her studio, it was the only time she got to really unwind and let loose.

She sang along to the music, her eyes concentrated on the half blank canvas in front of her as her head bobbed to the beat rhythmically. She felt more rejuvenated than ever. After her night with Jim and waking up with him this morning, she felt more hopeful than ever about their relationship.

She knew there would be more fights, there always were in healthy relationships, but she felt better after last night, knowing they could both be smart and come to each other with an apology. They didn’t worry about letting their pride get in the way, something she had struggled with in her past relationships.

But with Jim, she felt like she didn’t have to prove anything. If anything, she felt like she had to prove the others in Hawkins wrong, not the person she actually cared about. That was something difficult for her, worrying about what everyone else thought about her, whether they were relevant in her life or not.

Devon was so lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice when the door opened and the Chief himself stepped in. 

Jim crossed his arms across his chest, leaning against the far wall with a smile on his face as he watched her sing and dance in her seat as she painted, totally oblivious to his presence.

The song ended within a few seconds, fading out into silence, when Jim finally made himself known. He cleared his throat, a laugh soon following when he saw Devon jump in her seat in fright.

“What the fuck?” She groaned, placing a hand over her racing heart. Her scowl didn’t last long, the sight of him smiling so widely, something rare for the usually surly Chief, had her smiling along with him.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, her eyes turning back to the canvas in front of her. 

Hopper turned the volume on her record player down before sauntering over to her, shrugging in response coyly. “It was a slow day.”

Devon smiled up at him as he stood in front of her, his 6’3 form easily towering over her. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

“Yeah? The old bitties of Hawkins aren’t giving you a hard time?” 

“Well, they are, but I’m choosing to ignore them.”

“Hopper! You’re the Chief of police, you can’t just ignore people who need help.”

“I sincerely doubt that getting Mrs. Davis’ cat out of her neighbours trash bins is hard hitting police work.”

“To you, maybe.”

“I’m ignoring them for you, isn’t that romantic?” Jim flaunted sarcastically and Devon rolled her eyes, a girly giggle escaping her.

“Oh yeah, my heart’s just fluttering like crazy.” She chided him. 

“So what? I gotta step up my game?”

“Oh yeah.” Devon smiled in jest, trying to continue to paint, but Jim’s arms slithered around her waist as he began to press soft kisses to her neck. She held back a sigh, not wanting to give in and admit how much he was affecting her.

“You know, I can be pretty damn persuasive.” Hopper mumbled, his lips barely leaving her skin for a second to speak. 

Devon groaned and as she faced him to give him the bad news, his lips crashed to hers before she could. His hands wrapped her around her waist, lifting her out of her seat. Devon shrieked against his lips, she didn’t think she’d ever get used to his brute strength and the way he could just throw her around as easily as he could.

Jim smirked in satisfaction at her response and pressed his lips to hers in a fiery kiss that left her breathless. He hoisted her up into his arms and sat in what used to be her seat, holding her into his lap as she straddled him.

“Jim-”

Her voice cut off as he grabbed her hips, grinding her against him. She moaned lowly and kissed him back passionately, her words falling out of her head in an instant. Devon was ready to continue as if she had no responsibilities, but the sound of his throaty groan as her hips met his snapped her out of her lust filled haze.

“Jim, we can’t.”

“No? You didn’t seem bothered last week.”

Devon’s eyes widened and a blush flashed across her cheeks as she thought of when he visited her in her studio just a few days ago. She was thankful the other artists in Hawkins were only using her studio as a hobby and weren’t in every day, otherwise they would’ve gotten an earful.

“Well, I didn’t have kids coming to visit me last week.” Devon moaned as her insatiable boyfriend continued to press heated kisses to the slope of her neck.

Her words seemed to gain his attention though and he pulled away, looking up at her curiously.

“Joyce’s kid and his friends stop by here a few times a week.” She explained, but Hopper’s face contorted in confusion and Devon sighed. “They have A/V club on tuesdays and thursdays but the rest of the week they like to come here and use the radio in the back room. Apparently it’s better than the one at their school.”

“You can’t tell them to go away?” Jim said offhandedly, moving to kiss her again but she moved back, keeping a fair distance between them.

“You know I can’t. I’m a mom, I’m helpless around kids.” She shrugged and Jim laughed, shaking his head. 

“You’re too nice.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s terrible.” She moaned dramatically, making Jim pinch her thigh in response.

“Speaking of Joyce, do you have any idea why she came raging into my office this morning?” Jim asked, feigning ignorance. He knew exactly why she’d come to give him a piece of her mind. He was sure the entire station knew, too, after her visit.

He didn’t appreciate the fact that his officers heard about his relationship drama, but he had to admit, it was quite amusing to Joyce so worked up and it made him feel better knowing Devon had such support on her side. He knew she’d been struggling since she moved to Hawkins.

Jim and Joyce had known each other a long time and had been good friends for years, but the fierce woman was ready to throw all of that aside to protect Devon’s honour. He couldn’t really fault her for that when he’d do the same thing for the woman of his affection.

Devon’s eyes widened and she bit her lip, coughing awkwardly to hide her snicker of amusement. She would have loved to have seen 5 foot tall Joyce Byers reaming out the Chief of Police.

“I guess I may have mentioned some things to her last night.” She mumbled, her fingers fiddling with a piece of fabric on her ripped jeans.

“Yeah? You told her what an asshole I was being?”

“I never said that. Those were her words not mine.” Devon defended, though she was still trying to hide her smile. “But, to be fair, you were being a bit of an asshole. I had to vent.” She shrugged in nonchalance.

Jim laughed, shaking his head. “You’re somethin’ else, baby.” He mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to her smirking lips.

“So, did she straighten you out?”

“Oh hell yeah. I’m terrified of that woman. I’ll never disrespect you again.”

“You’ll have more than Joyce Byers to worry about if you mess with me.” Devon warned, though her sarcasm was a little too easy to detect and Jim was unable to keep his cheeky smile at bay at her teasing.

“I don’t doubt it. The two of you tag-teaming me? I’d never make it out alive.”

“Yeah, don’t you forget it.” She whispered, bringing her lips closer to his. His teasing smile fell and lust overtook his playful expression. He leaned forward, inches away from kissing her deeply when she pulled back, a satisfied smirk on her face.

“You’re an evil woman.” He groaned, his forehead falling to rest on her shoulder. 

“Just keeping you on your toes, honey.” Devon smiled sweetly and Hopper almost melted on the spot. He was still trying to figure out just how quickly she’d gotten under his skin, not that he was complaining. His hands instinctively tightened around her waist, bringing her in closer to him.

“Well, since you’re so adamant about teasing me now, are you free tonight to put me out of misery?”

“Charlie said he wanted fries for dinner tonight so I’m thinking of taking him to Benny’s.”

Jim smiled, his grip on her hips tightening playfully. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tonight then.”

Devon gasped in mock astonishment, a wide grin growing.

“Jim Hopper, aren’t you forward.”

Jim rolled his eyes and let out a loud laugh, leaning back in the chair to admire her form that was still straddling him so scandalously. 

“You didn’t think I was too forward last night when I-”

Devon placed her hand over his mouth and glared playfully at the smug expression on his face.

“Alright, that's enough out of you, you pervert.”

“I’ll see you tonight then?” Jim asked, his voice muffled from her hand that was still across his mouth. Devon nodded, quickly taking her hand away and crashing her lips to his. She had about ten minutes until the kids came and she was going to make the best of it. 

They allowed themselves to indulge in each other for a few minutes, taking no mind of their responsibilities. It was only when Devon pulled away, keeping her hand on Hopper’s chest when he tried to lean forward, his lips chasing hers desperately to keep contact, that they finally remembered they were adults with jobs.

“Don’t wanna scar the kids for life.” She whispered in reminder.

Jim hoisted her up, reveling in the delighted laugh it drew from his girl, and set her back down on her feet. 

“I’ll see you and the little one tonight.” He promised, pressing his lips to her forehead affectionately, the small act making her swoon where she stood. She hummed in agreement, almost too lovestruck to respond.

“See ya.” He smiled cheekily as he slowly walked backwards out of the room.

Devon bit her lip, sending a mischievous smile and wave that left him wanting more.

“Good luck with the cats!” She called out when he was almost out of the room, which earned her a playful scowl and a muttered ‘brat’ under his breath.

Devon giggled childishly to herself and took a couple of seconds to compose her teenage-like hormones until she could get back to work and focus on the painting in front of her. 

She only had a couple of minutes to herself before the door opened and Will Byers and his group of friends strolled in casually like they owned the place. She smiled brightly, she loved those kids like they were her own.

Ever since she met Joyce, and by association, Will and mentioned that she had a huge radio in the back office she was thinking of getting rid of, Will and friends had flocked to her and her studio, spending a lot of time in the summer fiddling with the gadget. Now that school had started she’d seen them less, but they still made time to visit the piece of equipment they couldn’t get enough of.

“Hey, Miss Wicklow!” A polite Mike Wheeler called out to her with a big smile. Devon smiled and waved at the boys.

“Hey, guys. How was the first week back?”

The boys rolled their eyes in unison, making her smile.

“It’s school, nothing to write home about.” Dustin waved his hand passively. “And they’ve cut A/V club down to one day a week.”

“Really?”

“So, If you don’t mind, can we come on tuesdays, too?” Will asked, like the polite little child Joyce raised him to be. Devon couldn’t resist the Byers boy and his friends, they were all so polite and hilarious, she could never say no to them.

“Of course. Anytime you guys need the radio, I’ll be here.” 

“Thanks Miss Wicklow, you’re the best.” Lucas said with a big smile.

“You know you guys can call me Devon, I’m not sixty years old.” 

They boys collectively blushed and nodded bashfully and Devon had to hide her amused smile in fear of embarrassing them out the door.

“So, what are you guys working on?”

“We’re hoping to link our walkies.” Dustin replied immediately, clearly excited beyond belief about their new idea. “Ours don’t have the range to reach my house to Will’s so if we converge the signals to the radio here, which is in the middle of our houses, we can sync the signal so we have a better connection.”

Devon smiled and nodded, as if what they were saying made sense to her. “Alright, well, have fun. I don’t have to leave for another hour, so get what you can done.” 

Another chorus of ‘thanks Miss Wicklow’ rang out as the boys hurriedly made their way to the back room next door. She shook her head, if Charlie has that much energy at that age, she will be in trouble. 

Devon smiled, continuing to sing along to the music that played as she got back to painting. This was what she really loved about Hawkins. Despite the judgment she faced in the small town, the friendships and the nice people she did encounter outnumbered the ones in Chicago.

She worked at her painting, shaking her head in amusement every time she heard the boys cause a ruckus next door as she counted down the minutes until she could see Jim again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Devon pulled up to her driveway, looking at the white van that had been parked on the road for a few days now, her brows pulled tight in confusion. She was curious, but she quickly shrugged it off, did she really care what plumbing problems others on her street had? 

With a bounce in her step, she made her way to her neighbour’s house. A man in a navy jumpsuit, clearly the plumber that owned the white van walked past her, sending a friendly smile her way. Devon smiled back, the encounter not registering as anything important as she approached her neighbour’s house.

She knocked on the door, shifting her weight from side to side impatiently. She didn’t want to be an overpowering mom, but spending the day without her little boy was quite new to her, and quite difficult still.

Mrs. Carlson, an old widow, opened the door and smiled widely at the woman in front of her. The boy she held in her arms squealed in delight at the sight of his mother, holding his arms out to her. 

Devon happily grabbed her son, pressing a kiss to his chubby cheek, before turning to the old woman.

“Thank you so much for looking after him. He didn’t give you too much trouble, did he?”

The old woman waved her off with a smile. “Of course not. Your boy is the sweetest little thing I’ve ever met. I’m happy to look after him.”

“Well, thank you again, Mrs. Carlson. I really appreciate you watching him.”

“Of course dear, anytime. Now go and have a good night with your Chief.”

Devon’s eyes widened and she tried to hide how surprised she was by the old woman’s comment. She really shouldn’t have been surprised, she was sure the woman had seen Hopper’s truck parked outside her house night after night. 

Devon just didn’t think the old woman would have enough guts to mention her relationship to her face. Guess I underestimated her and the power of gossip.

“Alright, well, thanks.” Devon stuttered awkwardly and sent a wave to the old woman, her heart bursting when Charlie sent a wave to her in goodbye. 

She carried her son back to their house, surprised to see the white plumbing van still in it’s spot. She hoped she wouldn’t be the next one on the block to have problems, that was the last thing she needed to deal with.

“Do you wanna see Jim tonight, honey?” Devon cooed to her son as they stepped into their house. Charlie smiled, nodding happily at the mention of Jim.

Devon could never fathom how quickly Charlie had taken to Jim. He wasn’t a shy kid by any means but the way he’d latched onto her boyfriend was unheard of. The first guy she dated after having her son was shunned almost instantly by her finicky boy.

They hadn’t lasted long and soon she moved to Hawkins where he was immediately taken with almost everyone he met.

It was almost fate how quickly Charlie bonded with Jim and Joyce and her boys. It was what made Devon realize that she’d made the right choice in moving out of Chicago. The last thing she wanted was Charlie’s father finding them. 

Her excitement to see Jim had her practically rushing to get out of her paint splattered clothes and into something a little more formal and out of the door with her son. She strapped him into his car seat and headed off to Benny’s.

Devon had been weary to be out in public the first month she and Jim had been seeing each other. She hated that everyone had been looking at them like they were some new program on T.V. She was the new girl and her novelty had not worn off yet by the time Jim had taken her out for a drink that first time.

Now, she couldn’t care less. She had gotten used to the fact that people would talk about an inter-racial couple with a ten year age difference between the newbie and the Chief with skeletons in the closet in the small town of Hawkins where nothing exciting happened.

Devon got over the fact that her relationship was hot gossip. She enjoyed her time with Jim and that was all that mattered to her.

She pulled up to Benny’s, a smile forming when she saw Jim’s police blazer already parked. With the exuberance of a teenager, she got her son out of his car seat, taking a few seconds to fix her hair in the parking lot and made her way to the door.

She spotted him immediately, his Chief’s uniform making him stand out against the crowd of civilians that frequented the joint.

“Jimmy!” Charlie yelled, squirming in his mother’s arms when he saw him. Hopper looked up, the small voice bringing a wide smile to his lips.

“Hey, Buddy.” Jim exclaimed, reaching out to take the child from Devon.

She couldn’t help but swoon silently as she watched Jim cradle Charlie to him, her son looking content in his strong arms, his head resting on his shoulder comfortably.

“Well, looks like you don’t need me here.” Devon sighed in jest.

“Yeah, I’m good here, you can head home if you want.” Jim waved her off, a smile forming, not able to keep up his sarcasm. The little boy in his arms was just too cute to make jokes about. “So how was your day? You finish your painting?”

“Not yet. Those boys can be very distracting.”

“I bet they feel the same way ‘bout you. I’ll have to have a talk with them about the way they’re looking at my woman.”

“Your woman? Jesus christ, Jim. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

“What? I see the way that Henderson kid looks at you. Gotta put a stop to it.”

“You’re gonna protect my honour against a ten year old boy, how sweet.” Devon gushed sarcastically and Hopper rolled his eyes while taking a swig of his beer.

“Alright, kid, what do you want to drink?” He asked, holding the bouncing child in his lap.

Charlie babbled what sounded like nonsense and Hopper looked up to Devon with a look of confusion, silently asking for help.

“Chocolate milkshake.” She voiced casually, her eyes never leaving the menu in front of her.

“How the hell do you do that?”

Devon shrugged. “It’s a mom thing. It’s like we have a sixth sense.”

Soon, the man himself came to their table, a barely contained grin on his face when he saw his loyal customers. 

“Well, if it isn’t the cutest family in all of Hawkins.” Benny Hammond cried out dramatically, earning twin scowls from both adults.

Devon looked over at Jim wearily, worried that the word ‘family’ would stir up more drama. If they were to hear that the night before, it would’ve blown up even worse than it had. She didn’t know if he really meant when he said he was ok with being close to Charlie again.

But Jim sent a sly comment to Benny, making them both laugh, and the tension was gone as quickly as she had imagined it forming. She sighed in relief, her shoulders deflating as her nerves dissipated. 

“You keepin’ this one in line?” He asked Devon with a warm smile. He was yet another person she’d met through Jim that had been an absolute angel to her. Benny may have looked intimidating but he was like a teddy bear. He was truly the warmest person she’d ever met.

“As best I can. I’m sure you know how difficult he can be.” 

Benny snickered and nodded in agreement, causing Jim to glare at both of them from across the table.

Jim watched with feigned annoyance as his best friend and his girlfriend chatted like they were years long friends. It brought a smile to his face, relieved that the important people in his life got along so well. It just served to blow his mind even more, he had no idea what he did to deserve a woman like Devon in his life.

Once their dinner was over, Jim placed his hand on the small of Devon’s back, guiding her out of the restaurant, ignoring the looks from some of the customers that were a lot more obvious than they probably realized. 

Jim sent a withering glare to the old man that ran a farm across town who was eyeing Devon like she was a main course on the menu. The man quickly noticed the deadly look in the Chief’s eyes and averted his gaze immediately, much to Hopper’s relief.

“You coming over tonight?” Devon asked, breaking him from his litany of thoughts swirling in his head, almost all of them thinking about walking back in there and giving that old man a piece of his mind.

“Uh, I wish I could, but I still got a stack of paper work to finish. I’ll probably be at the station for a few more hours.”

“Don’t stay too late, you’re gonna burn out if you don’t get any rest.” She said, placing a hand to his cheek. The small gesture of affection was enough to have his heart racing. He couldn’t remember the last time someone looked after him like she did, or even cared about him the way she did.

It was a kind of affection he’d been starved for before he met her.

“I’ll try my best.” He mumbled, almost bashfully. He looked to Charlie, once again taking him from Devon’s arms and holding him closely. “Make sure this one doesn’t give you too much trouble.” 

Devon laughed, watching with a lovesick look on his face as Hopper walked to her car, opening the door to get her son into his car seat.

She was practically swooning when she noticed something over his shoulder. Her brows furrowed at the sight of a white van parked at the far end of the lot. It looked like the same one that had been on her street earlier that day.

Surely it was a different guy. She narrowed her eyes, trying to make out the figure in the driver’s seat through the tinted windows. A prickle of fear rose in the back of her mind, but she quickly tried to shake it off.

It was just a coincidence that they were in the same place once again. The guy had been working all day, he was just getting dinner, she rationalized. Totally random.

Her eyes stayed locked onto the van, her mind racing with endless conclusions to justify why he’d been both on her street and at the same restaurant. 

“Alright, you’re all set.” Jim said, sending a wave to Charlie who looked close to falling asleep. “Dev? You good?” He asked, noticing her attention had drifted. “Devon?” He called more forcefully, finally snapping her out of her daze.

“Huh?”

“You alright?”

“Yeah, my mind just wandered off.”

Jim brushed off the encounter, not having any reason to not believe her. He kissed her quickly, not wanting to make a scene when they were already the talk of the town.

“Get home safe.”

Devon nodded, trying to make sure her smile didn’t give away anything suspect. “Yeah, you too.”

She got into her car, sending him a final wave and pulled out of the parking lot. She began driving down a quiet road. She was constantly looking into her mirrors, as if to make sure the white van wasn’t anywhere in sight.

She exhaled loudly, shaking her head at herself. She was being too paranoid, she knew that, but when it came to the safety of her son, she wasn’t holding anything back. 

Of course, there was no van following her home, she had no reason to think anything was suspicious about seeing the same van twice in the same day. She cursed herself, that asshole in Chicago really messed her up.

Devon was beginning to calm down when she pulled onto her street and she almost slammed the breaks down. Her eyes widened and she had no voice in her head telling her to think rationally when she saw the same white van she’d seen twice before, parked in the same spot it had been before, just a few yards from her house.

As safely as she could while also being as fast as she could, she pulled into her driveway, getting Charlie into her arms and almost jogged to her front door. As soon as the door closed behind her, she clicked the lock in its place, pulling the blinds down every window she passed. 

She didn’t know why she was being so paranoid over a white van being around every corner. Yes, it was weird, but did it warrant her being so uptight? She didn’t know yet.

There was a part of her mind that told her not to take any chances. The same part that was so protective of her son told her to take every precaution.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you’re all enjoying this so far! I promise, things will come to light soon and we’ll find out more about her past! Thanks for reading xx

Also I’m thinking of adding some smut next chapter? Y’all agree??

#jim hopper #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper x oc #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper x reader #chief hopper #chief hopper imagine #chief hopper x reader #jim hopper fanfiction #stranger things fanfic

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Blue Shoes, CH1

Genre: wlw, urban fantasy, supernatural

Words: 3.7k

Summary: A story of a werewolf that is becoming more wolf than girl and a witch with no powers waitressing at a local diner.

How do you save someone from them self when both parties are particularly hard headed and prone to pouts of self-destruction, a study

Tipping:

Ko-Fi ⭐Patreon ⭐ WordPress  

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Chapter 1: The Girl at Table 12

warning for mentions of past injury and puking

-

When I was seven I passed a cat huddling from a thunderstorm under an old brown truck. It was a gnarled brutish thing with wet fur plastered to it’s back and mud caking it’s side. It must have been caught in a small mudslide or maybe crawling through the trenches of Vietnam. One or the other.

It had deep cuts on its forearms, stark indents that stood out against it’s grey fur, I couldn’t tell if they were new or not. Some of its whiskers looked like they were singed off- by fire or bad kids or a world that threw cats to the devil and locked the door.

Under the mud there were obvious mats and tangled fur that weighed heavy on it, making it look beefier than it was.

It’s eyes were angry slits and teeth bared like a barbed-wire fence, at the time I approached the battered cat because that was the sort of girl I was back then. I put my hand out and looked at it’s huddling mud streaked body, I waddled closer to the car and peaked underneath, “The rain will stop soon.” A promise. The cat hissed softly, it’s lips pulled back against sharp yellow teeth and eyes glowing amongst the dimness. I adjusted my little pink raincoat and don’t even cry when I hear another thunderclap far away.

The cat doesn’t budge, I stick my bottom lip out.

“Come on kitty,” I reached out under the truck, maybe I planned to grab it by the scruff like I’d seen mama cat’s do with kittens. Maybe I thought it needed a hug.

It’s hard to remember exactly why I wanted to touch the mangy thing, but the pain was hard to forget. A red hot sticky shock that shot across the center of my hand, a long bloody gash across the back that tore deep into the skin. I screamed and jumped back, reeling from the attack, the cat hissing loudly and arched it’s back as it stayed in place.

That’s the day I got my first rabies shot.

That cat was mangy, wretched, and looked like it had gone through basic training with a wind storm. I remember that cat when she walks through the door that night and a single thought goes through my head: she looks worse.

-

It was 3am, closer to 4, and I my eyes were unfocused on a TV monitor as an ad for a bowflex machine comes on. Just 29.99, order now.

We had been watching Comedy Central a second ago but Bernie had heard a word bleeped out and reminded us this was a family establishment. I snorted, because it wasn’t like any kids were hunkering down with us right now.

She came in just as the bowflex lady stretched her muscles and smiled into the camera, sparkling. I was in an ad-induced stupor by the counter at the time- still sulking from having lost the rock-paper-scissors tournament 3 hours ago.

It had almost turned into a knife-fight when Bernie had announced one of us could go home early, meaning avoiding the curfew and not being trapped in here until sunrise.

Of course, I would have been here anyway, I needed the extra shift, but it was the principle of the matter. Being forcibly locked into your place of work with customers was probably one of the rings of hell.

The girl who walked in through door probably had seen some of those rings and then some. I could have gotten her in trouble for escaping around past 11, but I wasn’t about to call the sheriff or curfew hotline or whatever it was they set up.

I blink a couple times and go very stiff.

My mouth hung open and one of the few patrons in the joint gasps lowly. It was the heavy-smoking lady who had been murmuring to the busboy about her lousy husband and last divorce and bad hay fever for hours now.

She falls silent, I blink again.

The figure’s clothes are torn from Sunday to Tuesday, long strips of dirt-caked fabric trailing on the ground after them and hanging loosely off the person’s body, like mummy wrappings. Under the clothes is muddy-cracked skin and visible small cuts.

Her posture was loose and weighted, like something immense rested on her shoulders tops and unbalanced her spine.

She sagged at every corner like a tattered doll filled with sand, her face was covered by chin-length dark hair that was also full of dirt clumps and at least 2 twigs and a couple crumpled leaves. Her head hung almost to her chest and I can’t make out her expression.

I squint my eyes at it all, of course this would happen at 3am. It was always something.

“Are you... okay?” I ask cautiously and wait for something,

She was barefoot and limping toward the counter, I stand up straight and summon up the ancient words: ‘sorry ma’am, no shirt, no shoes, no service.’ But the words don’t come and she keeps walking. I catch her eyes for just a moment as she passes, the briefest heart beat as she glances up through her dirty  bangs. Her gaze is dark and bloodshot, veins as bright red as hot irons.

Red as harlot’s lipstick, red as a cardinals breast, red as sin and every time I cut my knee in gym class.

“Fine,” she says in one breathless tired word, finally answering my question and then turning away. She didn’t look fine.

She limps toward the very distant corner table and collapses into the booth, I’m remembering that damn feral cat that mauled me.

“Ronnie,” I turn around in tight circles and try to locate the busboy on duty, he’s standing slacked jawed at the other side of the room. I bustle over in his direction. “Where’s Bernie?” I hiss at him, moments like these made me grateful for a manager.

Ronnie just looks at me dumbly and his eyes dart back over to the new customer. “Casey...”

“Excuse me,” I hear a ragged thin voice croak across the small diner, it sounds like it’s been dragged across the ocean floor- full of salt and brine.

The two homeless men and Dolores eye the newcomer. She seems to sway back and forth in place, “Could I have a water?”

I turn my head slowly, the red bloodshot eyes coming for me again. They are hazy and sunken into her head, like shadows of themselves, I flinch.

“Uh,” I clear my throat.

“If you could… please,” the voice says faintly, I hear someone moving before I do.

Ronnie pivots toward the kitchen and quickly brings out a glass of tap water, he always was a better person than me with his small face and large round blue eyes. He flashes me a look that says he’s not going to be covering my tables all night though.

I take a deep breath and turn toward the kitchens, “Bernie,” I call out and make a beeline for the freezer, “Bernie, we have a thing.”

I wander in past the grills where our one chef on duty is filing her nails down to a blunt point, we ignore each other. Sam immersed in trying to rid herself of fingertips and me in trying not to get lectured on etiquette at just that moment. I hear coughing from the back room and make a sharp turn, kicking a box aside as a reach for the door.

I yank the pantry open, “Hey!” I say loudly as an older woman with a pinched look on her face sits up. She has tight steel gray curls and a flat-iron mouth that didn’t lend itself to smiling.

She shifts her generous body toward me, turning on the floor and facing the light. Her curls are flat on one side where she must have been napping on a sack of potatoes.

“It’s my fucking lunch break,” she says waving her hand in the air, “go handle whatever it is on your own.” I set my jaw, “someone just walked in from, I dunno, the set of a disaster movie,” I shift from foot to foot, “she might be tripping or something.” That should get Bernie’s attention, I would bring up the bloodshot eyes in a moment I needed to.

“Casey,” Bernie says slowly, pitchedly, “you can either handle it or handle my foot up your ass. It’s been eight hours since my last break.” The ‘fuck you’ energy was very high in the air and I take a deep resigned breath.

“If I get stabbed tonight I’m suing,” I say with my shoulders hunched and back straight, Bernie chuckles.

“Duck and weave my girl,” she shakes her head, “it’s not like we haven’t had transients in here before.” Bernie was closing her eyes again, I only sigh. “Handle it.”

“Yeah, but most of them don’t have ‘murder scene’ written all over them.” The rabies shot in the ass feels like a phantom pain right then. Bernie rolls over and starts ignoring me.

I reluctantly wander back into the main area and try not to look into the corner, Ronnie is still eyeing me. His chin is jutted out and he doesn’t stop looking very fixedly in my direction.

“What?” I finally ask and Ronnie raises his eyebrows and his eyes dart over to table 12.

“That’s your table.” He says in his pale, quiet voice.

I grind my teeth, “You’re the one that served her!” I murmur lowly to him and he wrinkles his nose. “You want me to tell Louis you’re shirking your tables again?” It was a threat, his huge eyes shrinking into darts. He reminded me of a little brother threatening to tell mom and I straighten my back.

“Whatever,” I turn away and clench my hands, “fine.” It’s not like I hadn’t handled worse, it was Gilford.

I meander my way back over to the war-zone victim and raise my eyebrows.

She lifts her head slowly and I see thin cut marks along her chin and cheeks. I take my place next to her and lift a notepad up and give a smile, “Welcome to Sue’s Diner, can I get you anything?”

I input the usual phrase and watch curiously to see what would come out.

The girl was already done with her first glass of water, I made a mental note to go get another one along with filling up Arthur’s coffee cup on the way over.

She seems to swallow dryly and I wait for a good minute before anything actually happens. Her eyes are dull and distant, like looking off into a dark ocean. I have a strange memory of one of my classmates having this same look on his face when he was trying an experimental drug called ‘Eevee’ for the first time.

She swallows again and her head tilts to the side, “are you Sue?” I make a face, I had gotten that question before. I lean over her instead, “nope,” I put on The Usual Smile, “jus’ the next best thing.” The girl gives me a lost, almost desperate look, her eyes glaze over and I wait another long moment. “Casey.” I glance down at my employee name tag, “that’s me?” It was a question. Somehow her demeanor was making me feel a little lost too, was I Casey? Was I in purgatory? Was a stuck in a diner with a bunch of strangers and someone probably on the worst drug-trip of their life? Possibly.

It was Gilford.

She reaches out and I take a mild step backward, I don’t know what she’s reaching for, but she comes up empty and then slumps over again.

“Uh,” I take another step back, she reeks of fresh earth, blood, and something I might describe as ‘fungus.’ I consider really calling the cops, she was out past curfew and… up to something, but I’m also not in the mood for making a statement to the cops.

She retracts her hand and takes a deep rattling breath, she looks around, “Can I have an omelette with… eggs?” I take it as a good sign she’s still talking, a bad sign that she was about to make Customer of the Month (a little award among the staff to counter ‘Employee of the Month’).

“What type, hun?” I ask slowly while her looks like her head is about to spin, I wait. “We have Denver Omelette, Vegetarian Omelette, Egg-ceptional Omelette, Pennsylvania Delight, and Mexican omelette.” She nodded her head up and down continually as if processing that and I was afraid it might get stuck in that motion. Another long awkward pause descends.

“What was the first one?” She finally asks.

“Denver Omelette.” “And second one?” She was definitely winning Customer of the Month. I smile instead, “Veggie.” She lulls her head back and seems to contemplate the ceiling, this was taking a lot of waiting.

She clears her throat, “What’s your favorite?” “Oh,” I pretend to think, “If you’re looking for eggs, the Egg-ceptional one is the one for you.” The girl looked ten seconds away from passing out, “can I have that… and pancakes. And hot chocolate. And bacon. And another omelette.” I write that all down and I have feeling I was about to experience Dine and Dash or Dine and Die on Me. “How will you be paying today, cash or credit?” I should at least check.

I raise my eyebrows when the girl pulls out a muddy wallet from God knows where, she yanks out a filthy fifty from the front pocket. “Cash.” She puts her down on the table. “And just… call my name when it’s ready.” “And what’s your…?” The girl’s head was on table, “What’s your name hun?”

She had stopped responding, her messy hair was splayed out on the table and forehead pressed down into the wood.

I consider poking her to check her vitals or something, but touching a sleeping Dirt Monster was also a good way to get stabbed (pictured: waitress, listening to bowflex commercials, pictured: waitress making headlines as ‘cute latina girl in a tragic dirt-and-knife-and-poking accident’).

I turn around and go stiffly back to the kitchen, I knock on the walls as I walk in, “We got an order Sam.” Sam Honey sticks her head of the kitchen window, done with her nail business it seemed.  “Lovely!” She was always way too cheery for night shifts, I had a few theories on this but none of them held much water. “I was getting so bored back here.”

I hand over the paper, “don’t spit in it or anything. This ones a livewire.” “Never, I would never,” she looks actively appalled at the idea, giving me the Come to Jesus look and then disappearing with the order.

I hear the shuffling of feet and Ronnie makes it to my side again, like a little shadow that was happy to appear and disappear according to the rules of Social Anxiety.

“Did she say anything weird to you?” He asks curiously.

I shrug, “like what? ‘My shower broke and hey, a diner seemed ideal right now.” “She on something,” He frowns, “cocaine?” I give a thin smile, “My money is on acid.” Sam comes out in a few minutes and she bets on really strong weed. I roll my eyes at that and we get a small pool going.

---------------------

I was shifting from foot to foot.

Hrrrrrnk

I wince, a loud snore fills the restaurant.

Hrrrnk

I hold the plates of hot food a little higher. “Okay,” I breath deeply but not through my nose, “alright.”

Hrrrrnk

She sounded a little like she choking on a piece of wet paper while snorting a packet of koolaid (something I had done and was not proud of).

I bump the side of the table with my hip, “hey,” I bump a little harder, “foods here ma’am.”

I don’t get so much as a wiggle from her, I wrinkle my nose, I didn’t plan on touching her at that exact moment. I put one plate of food down and reach for a sugar packet.

“This is for both of our own goods,” I shake the sugar packet, “so like… you should still tip.” I throw the sugar packet directly at her nose, she twitches.

“Hey lady!” I say again and throw a second sugar packet at her. “Come on.” Third sugar packet.

“Ah!” The packet bounces off her chin and the girl startles awake, throwing herself completely backward and her red eyes darting around quickly. Her chest heaved as she look back and forth, “where the hell am I?” I take a deep steady breaths, maybe she was better now. “Foods here.” I deposit the large tray of eggs and pancakes and a hot chocolate in front of her.

She blinks a couple times, seeming to process this. “Thanks.” I just nod, “there you go hun. Take your time.” It was almost 5am by then, one more hour of the curfew and then I could go home.

She just blinks one more time and picks up a fork with her dirty hand, I contemplate pointing out we had a perfectly good bathroom to wash her hands in.

The girl was already shoving food into her mouth, “it’s June.” I pause, the girl was halfway through choking down one of her omelettes, she mumbles, “June.” “Okay?” “For my name,” she says slowly, “when waking me up. You could have called June.” I just nod ever so slightly, “I’ll keep that in mind.” I turn my back on the odd girl and let her continue eating or whatever it is vacuuming up eggs into your mouth is.

I fill up another coffee cup for Arthur and slip back behind the counter, I exhale deeply as I see the back of Bernie’s head, finally come from her lunch break.

“Looks like we have a full staff again.” I say loudly and see Bernie whip around to look at me.

Her mouth is a hard line, harder than usual, “Get rid of that one.” My heart drops into my shoes, my brow folds in, “you told me to handle it.” I feel like a five-year-old stomping her feet at her mom. “I did. Plus, she does have money.” “I can’t expect you lot to take care of anything, can I?” Bernie was keeping a fine curdling glare on her face, “bunch of incompetents!”

I imagine retracting my hands around the older woman’s throat, “I handled it.”

Bernie keeps going, “She’s not wearing shoes!”

Ronnie shifted back and forth, “she’s got money.” Bernie tuts, “no shirt, no shoes, no service, how hard is that? And what if the sheriff comes in, we’ll have to explain letting in curfew-breakers.”

I make a face, “it’s not like we have to tell them.” Bernie was still mumbling to herself, “and what were you betting on with Sam? Cocaine? Whiskey? Weed? I don’t need that nonsense here.” I could have groaned so loudly my soul left my body, “look, she’ll just eat and leave.” I fold my hands over my chest, feeling the need to defend my choices. “It’s not a big deal.” Bernie grumbles at me, “Casey, what did I tell you? Handle it, did you? No.” I push my sunflower-yellow hair away from my face, “seriously?” She folds her arms over her chest, “seriously.”

I growl, “what do you want me to do?” Bernie jabs her fingers toward the table, “get her out, call an ambulance, do something like you should have done before.” I groan loudly and get torn between making money and joining a ‘punched your boss before you starved on the street’ club. It we weren’t all stuck here and if I wasn’t one of the few people who was long-term at this job I might have had a go at her. Instead, all of our sleep-deprived asses mentally flip each other off and go our separate ways.

The girl is still eating.

Bernie pokes my side before she leaves, “now.” I push my hair back in frustration and go little by little back to table 12. It takes all my willpower not to just take my apron off and declare myself jobless.

I creep up to the same table again, she’s eating slowly, taking one huge bite after the next, stripping pieces off and chewing meticulously, like it hurt her. She is just as worn and malaise as before.

I clear my throat and wait for her to look up.

Like before, she takes a clean minute to lift her head. “Hello?” She seemed lost again, I huff tiredly. “We’re closing in a few minutes.” It was a good a lie as any.

The girl, June, looks back in a daze. “I have money.” “I know.” I itch my wrist, “we’re just… closing.”

“Can’t go.” She keeps eating, “I need… this.” I rake a hand through my split-ends, which were plentiful after too many dye jobs and not enough conditioner.

June was still taking even ginormous bites, I square my shoulders.

“I can get you like… five more minutes, but you do have to leave. The pool should have local showers? Only a few bucks. You could go there.” She shakes her head, “where is this?” She asks in her same cracked, weary tone.

I tilt my head to the side, “the pool is down Warring street and-” “No.” She pauses and covers her mouth, “where is all of this?” “Uh,” I scratch the back of my neck, “Gilford.” She raises her eyebrows, “oh,” she says slowly, “good.” I make a face, I rarely ever heard someone be happy to get stuck in Gilford. I examine her one last time, “the sheriff comes around at 6.” She takes another long moment, “Cool.” “You might want to head out before then.” Her big hazy eyes look back at me and we exchange a very long look, maybe I’m looking for white powder under her nose or the smell of skunk. She covers her mouth again.

“I don’t feel well.” “I know,” I try to sound soothing, “do you need to call someone? We could get you someone.” You just need to go.

She just shakes her head, “Waitress, Casey, I.” “Yeah?” I ask cautiously, June sways back and forth, I prompt again, “yes?”

She looks up at me, eyes empty and distant. “You’re beautiful.” Her face was pale and empty. I tilt my head, “You don’t look so g-”

The girl violently jerks forward and a loud retching wet sound follows, I don’t have a second to react as warm lumpy liquid cascades down onto my blue converse. Eggs and pancakes and hot chocolate slurry hits my shins and my entire body seizes up.

My face contorts, “fuck.”

That’s how I learn the lesson about large feral cats all over again.

#wlw #sapphic #urban fantasy #werewolves #original writing #witches #original story #blue shoes #f/f #my work #supernatural romance #TW for blood

[dbzebra]

Not Just A Fling

Authors Note: So a few weeks ago, someone in my discord chat psted a fic that within the very first paragraph had Goten and Marron break up and say they were just a fling. Safe to say I was a lil butthurt. In response, I made this out of pure spite. It’s cheesy as fuck but at this point idc lmao

(Also, Marron is only 1 year younger than Goten as opposed to 3 in this. So shes 17 while hes 18. Just keep that in mind)

Pairing: Goten x Marron

Time Period: 11 years after Buu / 1 year post EOZ

Words: 1958

Son Goten stared at his now mostly empty bedroom. Boxes were stacked on the floor next to his old dresser. He still couldn't believe that he was going away to college tomorrow. He spent his whole life on Mt. Paozu and now he was leaving. At least temporarily. He could never truly move away. City life was not a permanent thing for him.

Until senior year, the eighteen year-old had no intention in going to college-and his parents were okay with that. If he really wanted to he could've just asked Bulma for a job at Capsule Corporation and she would've gave him one in a heartbeat. But boring office life wasn't his thing at all. He'd go crazy after a week of filing papers and answering phones about the same old crap. So he figured he'd give it a shot. College life was supposed to be so much better than high school, right?

At least, that's what Trunks told him. Goten's lifelong partner in crime was just finishing his freshman year at West City University, and the boys couldn't wait to dorm together.

Marron was sitting on the bed, happily twirling her golden locks in her fingers as Goku and Goten made the finishing touchings on packing. A part of him couldn’t believe they’d been dating for three years already.

"All set buddy?" Goku said, placing the last box down.

"Yeah, I'm good. Can you go check on Mom for me? She might still be a mess."

Goku smiled and went to find his wife. "Good idea."

He was going to miss the early morning training routine with his younger son. Goten had restarted his training back when he and Marron started going out a few years back. Nothing made Goku more proud than to see the great men his boys had become. Though despite not having his father’s extra push, Goten promised to keep up his training. He vowed to one day surpass his father.

“Trunks is comin’ right?” Marron asked him. She had on a white blouse, a pink skirt and matching shoes. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders and back.

“Yeah, he just pulled up. He’s takin’ some stuff to the place now so it’ll be less of a load tomorrow.”

Goten went out into the living room to see his dad comforting a distraught Chi-Chi. The day she never thought would come finally came. Her baby boy was leaving her for good and never coming back. At least in her mind he was. Despite everything Goku said, it seemed to only make Chi-Chi cry more.

"Come on, honey. Goten can visit any time with Instant Transmission. Besides, you didn't cry this much when Gohan left..."

"Because... I-I still had m-m-my baby... And n-now... he's leaving!" Chi-Chi wailed and melted back into sobs while Goku rubbed her back.

Goten glanced to Goku who smiled sadly. Goten flashed his father an apologetic look before going outside to meet Trunks who had just pulled up in his capsule car.

He greeted Trunks with a signature fist-bump and led the older Saiyan inside.

"Classes start Tuesday right? Because of the holiday Monday." Goten asked as they walked in.

Marron waved to Trunks who nodded back.

"Yeah, but the real shit don't even start until like two weeks later. Syllabus week is a pain but you literally just gotta show up."

"Hey that's the part I'm good at. The rest? Not so much."

Trunks chuckled. "You would say that."

"How's the place lookin? It's all fixed up right?"

"Man, it's gonna be wild. You and me on our own, we finally get to live! The campus is sick too. We got a townhouse all to ourselves and it's only a block from the food court!" Trunks went on about what it was like. He roomed by himself last year, and had a blast. But this year- this year would be another level.

"I'll probably be at the food court more than the dorm!" Goten joked. "That place'll be outta business by the end of the month!"

"...Dude, I'm telling you. Our place is gonna be chick city!" Trunks put an arm around his friend’s shoulder.

Marron flinched.

Goten shook his head, laughing. "Do you hear yourself? You sound like a frat boy when you're the furthest thing from it. Besides, I'm spoken for. Right babe?" He looked to his beautiful girlfriend.

She cracked a smile at Goten's joke, but her face hid a tinge of sadness... or was it worry? He couldn't tell.

"Mare? Something wrong?" He asked. He tuned Trunks out as he kept carrying on about the possibilities.

Marron took a deep breath and wiped her eyes before looking up at Goten sadly. "Trunks is right... One of these days... you'll meet some hot sorority girl with much more experience and forget all about me..." She sniffled.

Goten looked stunned while Trunks instantly bad. "Marron, I was just..."

She shook her head, looking away from him. "Maybe it's better that we… that just save ourselves the heartbreak and-"

Goten gently cut her off with a kiss. She was stunned at first but soon relaxed into it. Goten pulled the blonde to her feet and continued kissing her to show how much she meant to him. Marron felt all the doubt in her mind wash away as she kissed him back.

Once they broke apart, Marron gaped up at him breathlessly. Her heart was still caught in her throat.

"Mare, I love you." He said with that same smile that always melted her heart. "You're the only girl I need. I don't care how many other girls there are, I only want you. You're not some silly fling to me. You're my best friend. I love you. And when you come to WCU next year, I'll show the most amazing girlfriend in the world to everyone on campus."

Marron felt the pain and worry leave her heart as relief washed over her. It was all in her head after all. "I love you too. I'm sorry, I just- I just thought about losing you and I..."

"Never in a million years."

Trunks grinned and put his hands on his hips. "I figured. More girls for me then! With my good looks they won't keep their hands off me!"

"Yeah until you open your mouth and then they run for their lives." Goten replied back with a grin of his own. Trunks rolled his eyes and chuckled.

Marron sighed happily and laid back on the bed. "Come to think it, dating a college boy is pretty hot."

“So is dating head cheerleader.”

"Gross." Trunks gagged. "Get a room."

"We're already in my room." Goten joked.

"Oh shut up!" Trunks fired back and turned to send a quick message on his phone. Work stuff. He hated having to work at Capsule Corp. That was partly the reason he enrolled in school despite not needing to -to get his mom off his back. Honestly if he had an out, he'd take it in a heartbeat. "So seriously though, we gotta plan how this place is gonna look!"

"We need a sick game room. Oh! And a second game room." Goten added.

"And a gravity chamber!"

"Don't forget a guest room."

"Why? For when Marron visits?"

"Nah, she'd sleep in my room." Goten turned to wink at her. Blushing, Marron smiled and winked back.

Trunks smirked. "We'd better make sure it's soundproof then."

Marron coughed and hide her blushing face while Goten laughed with a hand behind his head.

"That's what I thought." Trunks smirked.

The blonde then noticed a small white box on the side of his bed. Goten saved that box for last. It was probably the most important thing of them all.

"What's in this?"

Goten grinned. "Take a look."

She opened it up and gasped.

It was everything from their dates over the years, including stuff that dated back to childhood. The movie ticket from their first date was on top. Photo booth pictures, arcade tickets, toys from when they were kids, and more. And most of all, a used-up old Ring Pop wrapped in an old piece of paper.

Marron could cry. Of happiness this time. In fact she almost did. "You actually kept this?"

She unwrapped the old piece of paper and giggled. In blue crayon was an agreement on the rules of the game.

'Marriage Rules.'

Rule 1: be nice

Rule 2: hold hands

Rule 3: step on any icky spiders

Rule 4: kiss on the cheek once a day

However rule 4 was crossed out in black crayon and said 'no cooties' under it.

Below the rules was their little signatures next to each other in sloppy writing.

Goten came over her shoulder and grinned. "I still laugh whenever I look at that."

"Dummy. A beautiful girl offers to kiss you and you turn it down?" She flipped her hair behind her back, feigning anger.

"I was seven! Besides, that's one of the best parts now."

"Oh yeah?" Marron purred and leaned closer to him. "Prove it."

Trunks groaned before anything could go any further. "Jesus you two. Could you knock it off for five seconds? I'm gonna throw up."

Marron giggled again and looked to the old Ring Pop. Goten ate it within an hour. She remembered being upset with him at the time. But still- he kept it.

"You remember all this, right?"

"I remember you forcing him, Marron. And you made me be the dog!"

"Can it." She quipped, smirking at him. Trunks only laughed. "Of course I remember." She smiled.

Those days of childhood were like a distant memory now.

Goten hugged Marron from behind and then spun her around to kiss her forehead. "We should try the real thing one of these days."

Marron looked up at him in shock, her cheeks flushing pink. "...What did you just say?"

Trunks couldn't believe his ears. Did he just hear what he think he just heard? He blinked, and then blinked again. He stared at Goten similar to how Marron was.

Goten nodded and kissed her again. He took a deep breath. He didn’t even feel nervous. Not even a bit. "...Marron, will you marry me?”

Marron stared up at him, covering her mouth with her hand as happy tears freely flowed now. Every ounce of her wanted to scream with joy as he continued babbling.

“Once I finish school... we can have a real wedding. Like the one you've always dreamed about. I know it’s sudden, a-and I don't have a ring yet, but-"

Marron flung her arms around Goten, cutting him off with a deep kiss. All the joy in the world couldn’t describe what she was feeling right now. What she had wanted since she was a child finally came true. She was the happiest girl alive. She pulled back, smiling as bright as could be. “Yes. A million times yes. Let's do it. Let's get married."

Goten grinned wider than he ever did and cheered. He picked Marron up and swung his girlfriend-no, fiancee around in his arms, laughing together. After another long blissful kiss, Goten put the blonde back on her own two feet.

She rested her head on his shoulder as neither moved from their embrace. "I love you so much Goten..."

"I love you too, Mare." He smiled and buried his face into hair.

Trunks ran up and congratulated his two best friends with a big group hug. The best part was-- he got to be the best man. His speech was gonna be amazing.

They were really engaged. The next part-- telling their parents. It was a small step in starting their new life together, but they were ready for anything.

#goten #marron #marten #goten x marron #my rarepair #this is what happens when i get triggered #i do the opposite #sorry not sorry #lmao #jj writes

[missingteethblog]

04/23/2020 - 20:50

The past few days have been really overwhelming, and also I forgot/didn’t have the motivation to write anything so here we are.

4/20 was great, the high wasn’t as terrifying as the last time, and during my high I apparently made the conclusion that I was in fact bi instead of gay and I wrote a whole note on my notes app about liking women as well as who I’m normally attracted to. When I read it (sober) in the morning I just thought “huh, well I’m not bi. what “ yeah it was a journey. Otherwise very chill night, very glad I wasn’t working the next day. I honestly don’t remember anything else from that day, or Monday and Tuesday for that matter. Wednesday was a shit show though.

Wednesday started off pretty okay, went to work and got scoffed at by a manager form another dept for literally no reason so that was great, make me anxious for the rest of the entire day. It was also my dad’ birthday, and I decorated the cake (sister saw I was decorating it, asked if she could just go and I said yes because I was almost done) and later that day my mom came upstairs and told us to do something more with the cake and I thought “well, I already did my part, my sister can do the rest” and by mom decided that me and my sister were arguing (she wanted me to help even though I literally did the majority of the cake) and so she started yelling at us for it which sent me into an anxiety attack (which my mom calls “shutting down”). When she told me that I needed to “snap out of it” and that I would “ruin dad’s birthday if I acted like this for the rest of the night” I just kind of snapped and told her that every single time I have “shut down” that I had been having an anxiety attack. Which made her stop calling it that (as she had been calling it that since I started having these episodes as a child. Anyways that was shit. That was ass. Cried about it for a little bit before vaping and feeling better.

 At NIGHT though, that’s when the “fun” began. I had to go to bed at 11pm (went to bed at 11:45 instead lmao) and instead of falling asleep, my brain decided to fixate on every single extremely graphic detail about everything I did while self harming, especially two particular incidents (tw graphic next part) where 1) I cut out a chunk of my flesh from the crook of my elbow which makes it impossible to get blood drawn from that arm anymore so it’s pretty bad and 2) when I cut really deep in my left forearm down past the veins (through, actually) down into the fat, and remembered (very graphically) sitting on my floor around all my stuff just squeezing around the cut so I could see the fat coming out of the cut. (tw over) Both of these disgusted my to the point where I could not fall asleep because of how awful and revolted I felt, because when you’re in that mindset (while using the coping mechanism) you don’t understand how fucked up and awful and disturbing the behaviour is until you look back on it once you’re out of that mindset (not using the coping mechanism anymore). That went on for about 2 hours before I checked my phone for the time and saw that Crywank was doing a livestream, so because I’m a faggot I watched it and they (James) responded to 4 of my comments and they were so sweet and the livestream was so good and calm (I watched it until it ended around 2:30am), and because they had interacted with 4 of my comments, and I (+ the people watching the stream) learned some things about When You Eat Yourself First Start with Your Head up Your Arse (that I won’t write about) and about them in general and it was so good I felt so much better afterward. Still didn’t fall asleep until 3:30am but I fell asleep on a much better note than very very graphic trauma. :)

Today was also shit. Got told my the meat dept manager that I wasn’t doing my job right (I was doing exactly as he told me to do) to which he corrected me by telling me to do exactly what I had been doing BEFORE he corrected me (about a month ago when I first started working as acting supervisor) which was incredibly frustrating. He seems to be pissed at me for zero reason. He also told me that I either had to come in earlier or stay at work later so that I can get the frozen and fresh loads and put them out. Earlier: the store opens at 7am, I get there at 8am and open and do everything and people are buying things from my dept, I cannot feasibly come in later than 8am. Later: believe it or not, I’m trying to graduate school during fucking quarantine right now and can’t put all my energy into work (which I am doing anyways!). So his response? To get passive aggressive with me and told one of his employees that she had to do my job since I can’t stay later than I’m scheduled. If you want me to behave like an actual supervisor, then I need to be paid the supervisor’s wage instead of my minimum wage. Bruh. I have also been working there for 3 months and am the only competent person working my dept right now. Anyways, that shit got me riled up and upset.

Later that afternoon I had a really long and deep conversation with my best friend (mostly me talking, which is abnormal). We talked about gender, the trans community, Crywank (me), what had happened on Wednesday night (me), weird nazi foot fetish porn that she found on pornhub, me simping for James (Crywank) like a faggot (which included me admitting that, since we have things in common that are kind of rare to find in other people, if we were closer in age )(they’re 12 years older than me) that we would definitely be at least mutuals I guess), my sex-repulsion and lack of sex drive, and our shared fetish. It was really nice, I definitely needed it because I felt a lot better afterwards. I don’t normally talk about myself and my problems because it makes me feel extremely self-centered and selfish (both of which are actual triggers of mine), but today I had a LOT of things I needed to talk about, so I talked about them and it was really relieving. 

Also figured out a quarantine project: I’m going to put all the Crywank albums on cassettes (I messaged them on twitter and they said that it was alright) and I’m really excited to do that!! Really looking forward to it. They’re also doing a livestream concert on Saturday and I’m really really really looking forward to it! :))

Currently listening to Cough Blood On The Moon Soon by Foot Ox.

#frog posts #updates

[missingteethblog2-blog]

04/23/2020 - 20:50

The past few days have been really overwhelming, and also I forgot/didn’t have the motivation to write anything so here we are.

4/20 was great, the high wasn’t as terrifying as the last time, and during my high I apparently made the conclusion that I was in fact bi instead of gay and I wrote a whole note on my notes app about liking women as well as who I’m normally attracted to. When I read it (sober) in the morning I just thought “huh, well I’m not bi. what “ yeah it was a journey. Otherwise very chill night, very glad I wasn’t working the next day. I honestly don’t remember anything else from that day, or Monday and Tuesday for that matter. Wednesday was a shit show though.

Wednesday started off pretty okay, went to work and got scoffed at by a manager form another dept for literally no reason so that was great, make me anxious for the rest of the entire day. It was also my dad’ birthday, and I decorated the cake (sister saw I was decorating it, asked if she could just go and I said yes because I was almost done) and later that day my mom came upstairs and told us to do something more with the cake and I thought “well, I already did my part, my sister can do the rest” and by mom decided that me and my sister were arguing (she wanted me to help even though I literally did the majority of the cake) and so she started yelling at us for it which sent me into an anxiety attack (which my mom calls “shutting down”). When she told me that I needed to “snap out of it” and that I would “ruin dad’s birthday if I acted like this for the rest of the night” I just kind of snapped and told her that every single time I have “shut down” that I had been having an anxiety attack. Which made her stop calling it that (as she had been calling it that since I started having these episodes as a child. Anyways that was shit. That was ass. Cried about it for a little bit before vaping and feeling better.

At NIGHT though, that’s when the “fun” began. I had to go to bed at 11pm (went to bed at 11:45 instead lmao) and instead of falling asleep, my brain decided to fixate on every single extremely graphic detail about everything I did while self harming, especially two particular incidents (tw graphic next part) where 1) I cut out a chunk of my flesh from the crook of my elbow which makes it impossible to get blood drawn from that arm anymore so it’s pretty bad and 2) when I cut really deep in my left forearm down past the veins (through, actually) down into the fat, and remembered (very graphically) sitting on my floor around all my stuff just squeezing around the cut so I could see the fat coming out of the cut. (tw over) Both of these disgusted my to the point where I could not fall asleep because of how awful and revolted I felt, because when you’re in that mindset (while using the coping mechanism) you don’t understand how fucked up and awful and disturbing the behaviour is until you look back on it once you’re out of that mindset (not using the coping mechanism anymore). That went on for about 2 hours before I checked my phone for the time and saw that Crywank was doing a livestream, so because I’m a faggot I watched it and they (James) responded to 4 of my comments and they were so sweet and the livestream was so good and calm (I watched it until it ended around 2:30am), and because they had interacted with 4 of my comments, and I (+ the people watching the stream) learned some things about When You Eat Yourself First Start with Your Head up Your Arse (that I won’t write about) and about them in general and it was so good I felt so much better afterward. Still didn’t fall asleep until 3:30am but I fell asleep on a much better note than very very graphic trauma. :)

Today was also shit. Got told my the meat dept manager that I wasn’t doing my job right (I was doing exactly as he told me to do) to which he corrected me by telling me to do exactly what I had been doing BEFORE he corrected me (about a month ago when I first started working as acting supervisor) which was incredibly frustrating. He seems to be pissed at me for zero reason. He also told me that I either had to come in earlier or stay at work later so that I can get the frozen and fresh loads and put them out. Earlier: the store opens at 7am, I get there at 8am and open and do everything and people are buying things from my dept, I cannot feasibly come in later than 8am. Later: believe it or not, I’m trying to graduate school during fucking quarantine right now and can’t put all my energy into work (which I am doing anyways!). So his response? To get passive aggressive with me and told one of his employees that she had to do my job since I can’t stay later than I’m scheduled. If you want me to behave like an actual supervisor, then I need to be paid the supervisor’s wage instead of my minimum wage. Bruh. I have also been working there for 3 months and am the only competent person working my dept right now. Anyways, that shit got me riled up and upset.

Later that afternoon I had a really long and deep conversation with my best friend (mostly me talking, which is abnormal). We talked about gender, the trans community, Crywank (me), what had happened on Wednesday night (me), weird nazi foot fetish porn that she found on pornhub, me simping for James (Crywank) like a faggot (which included me admitting that, since we have things in common that are kind of rare to find in other people, if we were closer in age )(they’re 12 years older than me) that we would definitely be at least mutuals I guess), my sex-repulsion and lack of sex drive, and our shared fetish. It was really nice, I definitely needed it because I felt a lot better afterwards. I don’t normally talk about myself and my problems because it makes me feel extremely self-centered and selfish (both of which are actual triggers of mine), but today I had a LOT of things I needed to talk about, so I talked about them and it was really relieving.

Also figured out a quarantine project: I’m going to put all the Crywank albums on cassettes (I messaged them on twitter and they said that it was alright) and I’m really excited to do that!! Really looking forward to it. They’re also doing a livestream concert on Saturday and I’m really really really looking forward to it! :))

Currently listening to Cough Blood On The Moon Soon by Foot Ox.

[mypersonalcollections]

I feel like I’m in one of those movies. Or one of those overrated shows on Netflix that I binge watch in one night. Every time I watch them, I always wished my life was like theirs. Why? Is it because it seems their life is way more exciting than mine? Probably. 

So much shit has happened in the past month. I feel like it’s God’s final test before I eventually become truly independent in university. Let’s start from the beginning. 

I’m a lonely guy. It may not seem like it on the outside, with my facade trying to seem happy, or intimidating by my frown, but I am. These are all defense mechanisms to protect me. It keeps me safe, it prevents me from going outside my comfort zone.

 During spring break, unlike the rest, I was at home. I felt like a loser. Like an absolute fucking loser. I felt like I should be doing something. Anything. Stop being a fuckin loser, Ian. So I did. Who knew  I’d be the type to look for hookups...Anyway, I did that. I downloaded Grindr, and the rest was history. I mean at first it was fine, I met cool people, and friends. But I needed to preoccupy myself. So I met up, recklessly. Haven’t I learned anything from school? From sex-ed? Has everything you’ve learned just thrown out the window? Yes. I was fucking bored, I was fucking lonely. Where are your friends? I mean its not like they’d want to hang out everyday. I’m not gonna lie, I’d get pretty sick of that too. They have their own lives. Way more friends than I do. Back on track...So I hooked up...I felt like the shit. Damn Ian, you’re finally acting like the bad boy you’ve always wanted to be. How many guys did you meet? Oh a couple, around 5 or 6. That’s a lot in just a week. Oh yeah. It is. I lied constantly to my parents saying “Oh, I have a study group in the library” or “I’m going to eat breakfast with so and so”, not knowing that my actual intentions were to get my dick sucked. I came home everyday, saying some bullshit ass story like “yeah...It was fun”. I was talking about the sex.

 Let me tell you about this one guy, he was insecure as fuck. Told me to un-install Grindr, probably because he was too insecure knowing that I might be fucking with other people. I texted him two days in a row saying if he wanted to hang out. All the time, he’s always at the gym with his boys. I know it sounds petty. I felt like a bitch, like one of those bitchy chicks that felt neglected. But really all he used me for was his pleasure. Fuck that. He messaged me a few days ago saying if I wanted to hang out. “Where?” , I asked. “At my place? I’m home alone”. Nice. Like I don’t know what you’re really planning. So I didn’t reply. Blocked his number, never came back. 

Out of all the guys I’ve met, there was this one particular guy. His name was Gordon. He was older than me, but I didn’t mind. I was reluctant at first to meet up with him. It was a Tuesday morning I believe...I got off at Fishcreek station, he picked me up in his jeep. He was just as attractive in person as he was in the pic he had sent me. We went to the mall pretty early, being the older one he was obviously the gentleman. He bought me coffee, and offered to walk around the mall for a bit before the movie started. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Sugar daddy? You’re right. I thought that too. I mean, we went to Nordstrom and he bought me two high-end brand shirts. And he paid for my movie ticket. And he paid for my food. What more could you want? We went back to his place. And I think you know what happened from there. Damn...That sounded better in my head. I sound like a slut. But I’ll get more to that later. Over the past couple days we hung out, movies, netflix, food. It was fun. Until I remembered.

I had unprotected sex. If anything, that was the most stupidest shit I have ever done. It wasn’t with Gordon. It was with someone else. Right after sex I remember laying in my bed, paranoid, fucking terrified. I picked up my phone and texted Gordon. I told him I had unprotected sex. I was scared that he would be angry, disappointed in me. He replied around 10 minutes later, just as I had expected. He wasn’t mad though, just disappointed. I called him. Crying. He asked me “You told me you were clean. I trusted you, I know I’m clean, and now you’re me you had unprotected sex without even telling me?” It hit me hard. I knew it word by word. That’s how hard it had hit me. I lied to him. I told him “It was after we met”. But it was long before. 

You see, the problem was. If I did have HIV before meeting Gordon, then I would have transmitted it to him. And that was my dilemma. I lied to him, and I remember imagining how terrifying the whole situation was. Imagining myself getting tested positive for an STD, having my parents find out, having to take those meds, having Gordon get angry with me...Why are you so affected by Gordon? He’s just a guy. Well you see, he’s not just a guy. That night, he picked me up, I was crying. The ride to his home was silent. He held my hand and told me everything was going to be okay. He ordered pizza and lasagna and we watched a movie. I felt better. He dropped me home and that was that. The reason why I tell you this is because I felt like Gordon was kind of like my dad. Or, what I wished my dad was more like. For most of my childhood my dad was never home, nor did I ever see him, because he was always out for work, or travelling. Now that he’s out of work, he’s always with my younger brother. I get pissed, not gonna lie, I’ve never really had a dad to truly, you know, be there, be my pal, be my buddy. Gordon embodied everything in a dad that I wanted. 

A few days later I told my mom that I needed to go to the doctor because my cough had lasted for over a month (which was true). So I did. They came with me. We went to the walk-in clinic and when the nurse called my name I went inside the room. My mom smiled at me, I gave her a sympathetic smile, almost a sad smile, not knowing the whole truth to me. So I sat down at the office, waiting impatiently for the doctor to show up. I told him my symptoms, yet, he said everything was fine. What I found really struggling to get out of my mouth was saying that I had sex. It was embarrassing. He gave me some papers and told me to get tested at the lab nearby. And that was that.

When I got home, I texted Gordon. I told him I got the papers and was wondering if he could drive me there after school on Friday. For the rest of the week, it felt like there was this cloud just following me. Like there was some sort of grey smog or some blurry thing in the back of my mind. Just the thought of testing positive for the STD made me sick. I had diarrhea for 3 days straight. I couldn’t focus in any of my classes. I got behind in chem, but surprisingly not social. I kept ditching psych class.When Friday finally came, I got off at Fishcreek and Gordon picked me up. We went to his house, and I remember staying there for a couple of hours...Just laying with him in the couch...pondering my decisions and what the fuck I became. I told him “maybe I shouldn’t get tested...What if it’s not accurate”. But really I was just scared. I think it was around 3 hours later that I actually mustered up my courage to say, hey, let’s fucking go. So we did. We drove to the medical hospital. Floor 2 was the lab. I walked in there, anxious as fuck. I waited in line, and there was this dude just staring at me. He got tested too, you could tell by the bandaid in his arm. Anyway, he stared at me, probably thinking, “What is this kid doing here getting tested for STDs?”. When we finally reached the reception, she asked for my papers and my Alberta health card (which I stole from my mom’s wallet a week ago) and we sat down. It was around 30 minutes later that a nurse called me to a room. I walked there, nervous obviously. I told her I never got tested before. She was sweet. Around her 40s probably. Deep wrinkles in her eyes, cheeks, but a very wide smile and a soothing voice. The needle didn’t hurt, I just kept talking to her, distracting myself. “How long have you worked here?” “Are you all registered nurses in this lab?” You know, all those bullshit questions. After all that was done, I had to take a urine sample. I pissed in the vial, put it in the compartment and the rest was history. 

Little did I know that this was the final and last time that I would ever see Gordon. Right after the lab, I felt confident. Relieved actually. There was no more uncertainty. No more wondering. My fate was at their hands now. I remember this memory being very blissful. It was sunny and windy. No snow. Well, except for the ones on the ground. I remember we went to fatburger, he told me to get whatever I wanted on the menu. I felt like a little kid looking up at the candy shop. I ordered the biggest thing there. A double bacon cheese burger with sauteed mushrooms and onions. With fries on the side of course. Once we got our order we sat down. I apologized to Gordon right away. I told him that I was being an ass, being promiscuous behind his back. He told me jokingly “that’s what you get for being a little slut”. And you know what made me feel like shit? I’ll get into this later. But what made me feel like shit was up until this moment, I truly didn’t know Gordon. All I knew was that he was there for me when no else was. There was no one I could turn to for this. He could’ve easily just turned his back out of anger. But instead, he drove me there to get tested, he took me into his home like his own. For what? For a slutty teen who didn’t know any better? Who was being a slut behind his back? I was being unfaithful to him and yet, he still took me in. He told me about his past relationships with other guys, one recently he broke up with because, well you guessed it, he was cheating on Gordon. After we finished eating, he dropped me off to my house. I looked him in the eye before getting out and thanked him. He smiled. And that was the last smile I ever saw from Gordon. 

A few days later I matched with this one guy on Tindr, he was cute. His name was Owen, and his caption was “Part time straight”. I was generally curious as to what that was. I had no intention of hooking up or even hanging out for that matter. Just curious. So I messaged him saying “What does part time straight mean exactly?”. And we started talking. Few hours later he says he knew me from somewhere, and I did too, somewhat. I took a random guess since he did look like that one barista from Starbucks near our school...Coincidentally he was. We freaked. That was pretty funny. It took three days until we both agreed to meet up. Just for breakfast though. So we met up at Starbucks during my morning spare. We walked to Denny’s. I ordered a french toast with sausage and egg and bacon. That was delicious. We took an Uber back to school. I suggested he come into school and walk with me to class since he apparently had never been inside the school before. We got to my chem class, I patted him on the back and said bye. 

There was this topic we talked about in Denny’s. I asked him if he was gay. He said, for the most part. He asked me if I was gay. I said, “I’m not too sure”. I know I like girls. I can imagine myself with a woman. I can imagine myself having sex with a woman. Yet, I feel the same about men as well. But I don’t act feminine. Nor do I want to. Guess that was just who I was. “What’s that I called?” I asked him. He didn’t know. Well, he didn’t remember. When I sat down in chem class I got a text from him, a message stating one word: Hetero flexibility. 

We watched a movie the next day after class. It was the first time I was able to get close to him. Obviously. The theater is like the best place to make a move. We sat down as the movie played, nothing too exciting really. I mean if you count leaning on each other’s shoulders exciting, or touching knees. He confessed he wanted to hold my hand earlier in the theater, but I was too occupied with crossing my arms apparently. So we held hands on the train home.

I guess you could call Friday a date. We went to eat at a Korean restaurant, he made me try Bibimbap or whatever it’s called. It was okay. Then we went to downtown, first it was this lights museum. Pretty underwhelming to be honest. Then we went to the Bell Museum, I played guitar for him. And piano. And ukulele.I guess he liked that a lot. 

Our final stop was this park in downtown...I remember it so vividly. We walked down an icy trail...It wasn’t cold, it was breezy; but you could manage. We followed this trail, over a bridge going through a river, until we approached this massive hill in the center of the park. As we walked towards it, he said to me: “You know, you’re the first guy who I have no sexual intentions with”. I didn’t know how to respond. I actually forgot what I said because I was so caught up with the moment. We sat at the top. We over looked the skyline of the city. You could clearly see cars passing by the bridge over the river. The river slowly eroding away the ice and snow. Dead trees littered the landscape while the cool breeze fumbled with our hair. I remember revealing a lot of myself to him that one day. I remember telling him how I was so sick of hoking up and making meaningless memories. Constantly feeling empty and dull inside. I wanted something that mattered. I felt like I was looking at the mirror image of myself. He understood me. Truly. And I did too. And for once I actually felt a new emotion. It wasn’t lust or even love. it wasn’t friendship. I couldn’t describe it. I just knew I liked him. A lot. I told him “I’ll probably never find anyone like you again”. 

I remember I kissed him on that hill before I left. It was somewhat awkward. He leaned in and I turned away. I looked at the distance and I told him, “I’ve never done this before..” He replied, “What, kiss?”. “No, I’ve kissed. Many times. But those were all meaningless. It’s easy to kiss during hookups cause it doesn't matter. It was easy kissing my ex because I didn’t like her”. I told him he was different. It was hard for me to actually make a move because I truly did feel an emotional connection with him that I had never felt before.

That night he texted me saying much I truly meant to him. That we should cherish the last few months we had remaining. He proposed we go to Vancouver. I was down for that. Just the timing I told him. The fucking timing of it all. I wish I had never met him, or I had met him earlier. It crushes me. It breaks my fucking heart. I knew he was one out of billions.

Today before church, Gordon messaged me. He wondered how I was doing. I haven’t talked to him in a week. I replied immediately. I told him how much he truly meant to me. How he was there for me when he could have easily turned his back. I told him about Owen. I told him about how I found someone and I felt like an ass because here I am again, being a “slut” behind his back. After all he had done for me. This is how I repay him. 

That was hours ago. He hasn’t replied since.

Owen leaves tomorrow for Mexico. He left me his disposable camera to finish the remaining film so he could process it when he gets back. We switched jackets last friday. He still has mine, while I have his denim jacket. It smells exactly like him.