#I’m feeling very validated in this chilis today

[yennie-fer]

1st miscarriage: https://www.deviantart.com/faithwalkers/art/Miscarriage-865213383 2nd miscarriage: https://www.deviantart.com/faithwalkers/art/Miscarriage-The-Lost-Rainbow-888137225 Sharing our whole experience with this 3rd miscarriage. Be warned, compared to other times I have shared this, I have become a very bitter person. I’m very broken so yeah. Be warned. Didn't think I'd make another artwork in regards to this. But here we are. WARNING: There is TMI talk, trigger warnings For those who don’t know, we have lost two babies before this one. These losses are our only offspring. Today, we’re talking about our recent loss: Chily. Reason for that name was the most cravings I had was chilli and tomato stuff. We unfortunately don’t know the gender and I’ll get to that later on. I’m so devastated with this whole thing of not knowing!! 11 weeks!! I should know, right?! Don’t mention surrogate, adoption, ect. I don’t wanna hear it. It’s very inappropriate. If your relative had died, would I tell you to adopt a new one? Get outta here. Surrogate is very triggering for me. All I’d feel is jealousy that I can’t have the bond with a baby that way. I will not be answering those types of comments or messages because I will blow up. So please delete or unsend anything like that. There are other types of treatments, but I rather not think about it right now as seriously, THIS HAPPENED LAST WEEK. Don’t say try again. I really don’t want to think about it this time after having such a horrible experience. AND PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, refrain from saying “I’m sorry” “God needed them.” stuff. It’s so draining at this point. Please don’t come at me about my anger towards God with it all especially if you don’t understand. You have no right to say anything. My reasons are valid. I’m suffering from a lot of trauma. My whole life has been full of it so I can’t even get a break. I am not in the place to have anyone sympathize with me. This is raw feelings of anger and depression. This post is informative for people who may need it or come to understand the depth of it. Anyway… I will share you our experience. Before anything started with the bleeding, I was noticing my pregnancy symptoms were disappearing. Although, it was hard to tell as this was the furthest I’ve been along. There was a 50/50 chance of it being normal and not normal. In my case, it wasn’t normal. I always had it in the back of my mind that this would happen again. Even though I filled the colored boxes per week that “I can do this” I prepared myself for the worst so I could hurt less. I wish that were true as our experience with the ER wasn’t the greatest. I’ll get to that. So the symptoms I’ve noticed disappearing was the sensitivity in my breasts, the morning sickness, and loss of appetite. As a reminder, I have been very anal on taking my baby aspirin and prenatals every day. We don’t know what happened. One day, I told my husband, “This pregnancy is weird. I hardly crave anything.” Before, I had more food aversions but that also had disappeared a little bit too. And there was another incident where I had painful pregnancy diarrhea. I heard that was ok too, but just never know. But after being on the toilet, I touched my belly. The uterus part was sunken in. I don’t remember when that had occurred, but maybe that’s when Chily was dying. So come New Year’s Eve. I was in the mood and it was around 11ish pm. Sorry for the TMI, but we made love. Immediately afterwards, I started bleeding pink blood. So I was like oh, this happened faster. Because last time, I had it. It was normal. I had the ultrasound after the fact. Baby had a strong heartbeat. So before anyone says anything, no, sex didn’t cause this. I had so much blaming on myself with this. I thought it was the cause. I’ll get to that later. Anyway.. so I went to bed… but I woke up at 4AM. Something was off this time compared to last. I had a thick, red clottish thing. It wasn’t a clot, but it was thick blood. So I started panicking. Now, this was when I was starting to figure something was happening. I’ve prayed to God daily to not have me go through it again because I wouldn’t handle it. I prayed for protection of the baby and to have things normally. I guess my prayers were in vain. They always are when it comes to desperately wanting a life to be saved. I’ve learned that when I was 13 years old and lost my sister to cancer. It’s still the same old thing these days. Hard for me to see a miracle… But even then, I was trying to relax. I did my anxiety reducing exercises and it REALLY helped. My cat, Mew, she was acting strange. The strange feeling where she acted like every time a baby was dying. She knew the time I was pregnant to the time baby was dying. So I go to bed, trying to not think about anything. I think both my husband and I were in denial in our own ways. Both our emotions were tense. For the right reasons anyway… I fell asleep and had many nightmares. even before this incident, I’ve dreamt of losing this baby too. I try not to think about my dreams, but sadly, they come true when it comes to miscarriages. I’ve dreamt I was bleeding. I dreamt I was saying it’s happening again. The most vivid dream I’ve had, I was shouting out the window towards the heavens. There was an orange cat there. Not sure if it means anything, but, I screamed to God, “God, Don’t take this one too!!” Then I woke up to mild cramping. It was front to back. The cramps radiated down my legs. I shoulda put myself on bed rest that day (Saturday now), but I saw the blood was turning brown and lighter. Thought it was fine, but it wasn’t. 5PM: I was spotting a bit more brown right onto the pantyliner. I want to tell you, MOST cases brown is normal. HOWEVER, don’t let brown on a pantyliner think things are ok. And then Sunday morning came… Why didn’t I call anyone? Well, the gyno’s closed. Every time this friggin happens, it’s on a weekend!! I can’t believe it… So Sunday morning was when things were turning south and I had no clue. It was still brown, but I wiped and saw mini clots and tissue. I was starting to believe something was wrong, but again, denial. Then it turned bright red. I wanted to not believe it. Then, January 3rd came. January 3rd, the day the miscarriage was starting to commence. I’ve called the gyno first thing in the morning. My anxiety was peaking. They made a note and said to still keep my appointment on the 7th. Come 12PM, I was bleeding thicker with more thick tissue. I was cramping front and back more. Some of the cramps became somewhat severe. I called the gyno. My heart sunk as they told me to go to the ER… This ER experience had been nothing but awful. The wait time was torturous. My pains kept coming and going. It was packed because of COVID cases and other stuff. The beds were filled. It wasn’t like our other times we were there. Last two times, I had priority and went in. An hour later, they did bloodwork and a urine test. The lady came for the urine an HOUR later. So now it was about 3ish. Two more hours of waiting and I’ve started to have contractions. They weren’t as bad as they were with our last miscarriage daughter’s, but it was pretty bad. I went to the bathroom, but nothing there. I thought it was strange how the bleeding was stopping and I was in so much pain… Finally, I heard my last name called in the bathroom. I didn’t bother washing my hands. (I sanitized them as soon as I got into the room) But I couldn’t walk. It was too painful. They grabbed a wheelchair and I was off. In the room, I was able to get into the bed to finally lie back. The waiting room chairs were SO uncomfortable to sit in for hours. And yes, I did take my prenatals and baby aspirin. It didn’t matter at this point. So the doctor came into the room to check it my cervix was dilated. I was in too much pain at this point and said I couldn’t do it. Sadly, my ER doctor had to leave the room and go help a trauma patient. I was already crying a lot because I heard my hCG was at 6000. Now if you look at the charts online for 11 weeks, the hCG is no where near that. Our baby’s levels were going down. I was devastated. </3 So, my husband and I were hopelessly in the room. I groaned and had a heavy need for some painkillers. The contractions sucked. Just like with our last angel baby, I felt a pop. It hurt. Last pregnancy, I had that with our daughter too when going into early labor. I would feel a hot gush of what I thought to be blood coming out of me. “It’s happening…!” I cried out, remembering the awful feeling of losing our two other babies. Our first one, Jellybean, the water didn’t break. I just massively soaked a pad in seconds. I thought that happened with our daughter and this one. But I finally figured it out it was indeed my water breaking… I was confused, at first, to see no massive blood. Like I was with Rosalina (our daughter)… so I went to touch down there to see. Clear, watery liquid. It soaked my panties. “I think..my..water broke…” i stammered to my husband. More denial. I can’t remember when but they gave me throw away underwear to put on a new pad. Practically useless for later on. And then, I felt like I hadda pee pretty badly. He helped me to the bathroom and I locked the door. I wished I didn’t go alone because I didn’t think this would happen. I tried to pee, but I’ve felt pressure. A lot. It actually stopped my urine stream. This was a first for me. But I had that familiar feeling when I passed our daughter at home. I hated to do this in the hospital bathroom!! I took the toilet paper as a futile attempt to catch what I thought was the sac. (It was the placenta WITHOUT the baby but I found out later on.) So My hands were soiled in blood. Blood was all over the floor. I felt helpless as i cried, seeing what was in my hand. I saw something else in the toilet and wanted to see if that was our baby. I kept calling for my husband like an idiot. The door was locked and I was tempted to press emergency. But I motioned myself slowly to the door. Using my elbow to open it. Thankfully, the bathroom was right next to my room. I was panicking as I needed someone to salvage whatever was in the toilet. I was given a glove to dig in the toilet. All I saw was a clot… But I feel like I should have look more thoroughly. I dunno if I had flushed the baby down the toilet. It’s still friggin haunting me because I really wanted to see the baby somehow. this was one of the parts where I thought I might have passed Chily. And so, I was taken back to the room. The throw away underwear was getting soaked. I was getting so much pain. Took forever for them to bring me the pain medication. At this point, I’ve had no food nor water for awhile now. They didn’t even put fluid IV in me. Which would have been friggin nice. I was severely dehydrated. The last two hospital visits for our previous losses, they had given me IV. Anyway, so the nurse came in and she discovered I had no IV for my medication. You can see how very chaotic and disorganized the ER was. It was a nightmare so I can kinda not fully blame them for some stuff with the chaos. But the IV was put in my upper arm. I was kinda scared since I never had it up THAT high before. It hurt, but it wasn’t so bad. What freaked me out was my arm was turning friggin purple from the band. I was freaking out to have it removed. So she did. My dang hand was looking a little shriveled up. They gave me three meds. One for nausea. One for inflammation. And friggin morphine. Look, I have never taken morphine in my life and I hated it. I felt very confused and hot. It made my anxiety rose. It was a rush. I hated it. Wouldn’t do it again. We were told the ultrasound was going to be brought to us, but it wasn’t… So the door was kinda creaked opened and I saw the bathroom across our room wasn’t cleaned. Felt bad for this guy who walked into it to see my blood massacre in there. Just to hear him say, “Omg…” I had a clot trying to come out, but it was stuck. They put a bowl underneath me for me to pee and push it out. I couldn’t. I couldn’t pee at all as there was like a blockage. i was finally wheeled to the ultrasound room and I was pushing. Just nothing. Morphine made my pain go away, but I still would never do it again. So I went into the ultrasound room. Got onto the bed and something came out of me. The lady wouldn’t lemme look to see if it was baby or not. I dunno why the frig she didn’t. Like what would hurt if I were to evaluate it myself?? So she phoned the doctor to come look. She was the good doctor who was always honest and kind. I wished she was around to do the whole thing honestly. She told me it was a clot and that’s all. So she left me with the ultratech lady. Did topical ultrasound and she said there was huge clots inside me. She had me use the bathroom to push it out. This was where she was helpful. She had taught me how to breathe and stuff to release the clots. SO MUCH came outta me. Now, I dunno if baby was among it all… she set up a toilet bowl thingy to catch everything. I had large clots that were size of a lemon and other sizes. She reassured (lied) to me that she would have the doctor come in to evaluate to see if baby was in there. She had no containers in the room to move it to the next room. I hated it because she was nice and I friggin fell for it. I did a pelvic ultrasound and pain wasn’t so bad with it. She had to see if there’s anything leftover. Return to the room with my husband in it… a couple hours later, the doctor came to get me discharged. I’m like wait… what about the stuff in the room? What about the baby?! A look of confusion washed over her face. Wow. Guess what? Ultratech person didn’t tell her anything. The doctor didn’t evaluate it, the ultratech lady DID. Why did she when she needed the doctor to look at the big clot yet she thought to look herself?! Even when I told my gyno on the phone, they seemed surprised they didn’t gather anything over there. So I gave myself a lot of self-blame from that. I wished I could have looked more thoroughly or even myself in the ultrasound room. I’ve talked to my therapist so she made me feel better about that. When going through something traumatic, it’s understandable. We finally got discharged around 11PM after being there for 10 hours. Went without food and water for 5 hours. So recovery from Tuesday-Thursday had been rough. Not many know how someone is able to recover after a miscarriage. You still bleed, have pain and very weak. I’ve had peeing issues because of being severely dehydrated. My blood sugar was low. Everything with that is ok now. January 6 was the worst day. I was having so much pain. I’ve passed more clots and tissue. We’d like to believe the tissue is the baby because it looked similar. So maybe it was or not. I’m going with was because it helped give us more closure. Anyway, recovering sucked. I could hardly move. Using the bathroom hurts like someone stabbing my butt. I can’t do dishes, laundry and other simple things. My husband and I get overwhelmed with it. He has work to do and I understand that. Our friend has been great. He had vacuumed our house and did the dishes. So very thankful for him. A lot of people who hadn’t been through it doesn’t think about that stuff. Well, now I’m telling you. It’s easy to say you’re here to talk to us, but when it comes to needing help with things, the harsh reality is you’re alone. I don’t like asking for help. Not at all. Maybe it’s the fact I wanted people to awful as I’m sinking into postpartum depression and feel ashamed. But yeah, don’t feel guilted into helping just because I have addressed it. Again, this is a informative post. If you ever have a friend who goes through a MC, I can’t stress it enough they would need help in a physical way. Anyway… so my update for January 7th So they're doing bloodwork on my husband and I to see if there's any problems between us... they want me to go back on birth control after my first period were to come. And then they will do 3D ultrasound on my uterus to also see it there's a uterus issue. They brought up adoption if there's actually no hope so I dunno. I don't have to do weekly bloodwork. I'd have to do a pregnancy test hCG is done to see if it's negative then start birth control pill when period starts. The bloodwork they’re doing is chromosome (for both of us) and lupus (me). The 3D ultrasound will be done after my first period. It will see if my uterus is abnormally shaped… or if there’s any other issues causing it. They will check for blood issues. I dunno. I am feeling sad even though they're trying to get to the bottom of this and I feel like my body's so broken...and just mentioning adoption I dunno anymore. They figured since the last baby had genetic issues, this one did too. And the first one didn't form properly. And the gyno asked me if I still have the pregnancy tissue and she said she could take it but they're already at the funeral home so that made me cry too. We don’t have answers yet. But we will… in time. Sigh. So I hope whoever reads this is more informed. This isn’t fun and I already feel the postpartum depression hitting me. I’m trying to fight my mind and it’s rough. And if anyone is insensitive, I will block you. Not sorry. In conclusion… Even though we never found out Chily’s gender, we still love them whether they were a girl or boy. :( I really felt they were a she. But we don’t know. Sorry, there’s a lot of emotional conflict in this whole post. And please help me to know what to do with postpartum depression. It’s already hitting me. Thanks for reading. Here's the brutal part of the story. IF YOU WANT THE RAW DETAILS OF THE STORY. IT IS GRAPHIC SO BE WARNED: https://community.whattoexpect.com/forums/ttc-pregnancy-after-a-loss/topic/not-sure-if-this-is-the-end-for-our-ttc-journey-heres-our-miscarriage-story-127285325.html

Video: https://www.tiktok.com/@yenniefer/video/7052444082894867759

#miscarriage #pregnancy #pregnancy loss #recurrent miscarriage

[marjansmarwani]

I used to be an only son 

Characters: TK Strand, Judd Ryder, Carlos Reyes, Grace Ryder 

Word Count: 3595

[Read on Ao3]

Summary: When Judd starts asking questions about Carlos’s favorite color, TK is confused. Judd has decided he doesn’t know enough about Carlos and his questions are driving TK crazy. When Judd mentions his revelation to Grace, she suggests having TK and Carlos over for dinner. 

This is the latest installment of my TK and Judd brothers collection, but it is also a belated birthday fic for @bellakitse. Stef has been wonderful and supportive since the day I started writing for this fandom and I will forever be in awe of her talent and the fact that she actually likes my work. The least I can do is write her something fluffy with some TK and Judd content. Happy belated Stef!! 💕

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I used to be an only son

“Why don’t we know Carlos?”

The question, from Judd as they packed up the equipment at the end of a call surprised TK. He froze in the act of rolling up the hose and looked at Judd incredulously. 

“What do you mean you don’t know him? You know him! He’s always around.”

“Yeah,” Judd allowed, “but I don’t feel like I know him, know him. Like, what’s his favorite color? What are his parent’s names? You know, that kind of stuff.” 

Now TK was looking a little suspicious, “Why do you need to know my boyfriend’s favorite color?” he asked skeptically.

“I don’t, it was just an example.” 

“An example of what, exactly?” 

“Of the fact that we don’t know him! I mean, he’s important to you and you’re my family, so I feel like I should know more about him!” 

The look TK was giving Judd now was much softer, “That’s actually very sweet,” he allowed, a small smile spreading across his lips. 

Judd scoffed, throwing a glove at him, “Don’t get sappy on me now kid, we’ve got work to do.” 

“You started it,” TK griped, but continued rolling up the hose. 

The conversation didn’t end there though, of course. As soon as they got back to the firehouse, Judd started again. 

“All I’m saying,” he declared defensively as TK glared at him across the table, “is that we don’t know him and I think that’s a little weird. I mean, you spend more time with him than just about anyone else, shouldn’t we at least know a little bit about him?” 

“What, are you jealous Judd?” TK sniped back, having lost patience with this conversation long ago. 

“Yeah man, you are being a little intense about this,” Paul noted as he scooped more pasta onto his plate. 

“I’m not allowed to be concerned?” Judd demanded incredulously.

Marjan shrugged, “when there is cause to be concerned absolutely, but I can’t really see any as of right now.”

“No cause...how would we know?! What do we really know about Carlos Reyes?”

A new voice sounded from the engine bay as the paramedic crew walked into the kitchen, fresh off their latest call, “What do you want to know about Carlos, and why?” Michelle asked as she grabbed a plate from the counter and began to scoop some pasta onto it. 

TK groaned, but Judd carried on undaunted: “I was just saying that I don’t feel like we know enough about Carlos, considering how close he is with TK and all.” 

Michelle peered over at TK with a questioning eyebrow raised. “Please make it stop,” he pleaded with her. A small smile spread across her face as she joined them at the table. “I can field your Carlos questions,” she volunteered, “what do you want to know?” 

TK glared at her, “Traitor.” She shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. 

Judd wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, “What’s his favorite color?” 

TK put his head on the table with a dramatic groan. 

“Why do you all hate me?” he whined, voice muffled against the table. Paul patted him sympathetically on the shoulder while Judd and Michelle continued to chat. 

--------

It had been the bell that had saved TK in the end when Judd and Michelle’s conversation was cut short by the sounding of the siren. When the remainder of the shift turned out to be too busy for the conversation to continue, he couldn’t say that he was too upset. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the next shift came in and TK and the others were free to leave. 

He headed right to Carlos’s house, trying not to think about everything Judd had said. He let himself in, dropped his bag, kicked off his shoes, and headed into the house. “Carlos?” he called as he walked. 

“In here!” Carlos’s familiar voice called. TK followed the sound into the living room where he found Carlos on the couch with a book open. “Hey babe,” he said with a smile as TK drew closer, “how was work?” 

“Ugh,” was all TK said before collapsing onto the couch and burying his head into Carlos’s shoulder. 

Carlos raised an eyebrow, “That bad, huh? Rough calls?”

TK raised his head just long enough to meet Carlos’s gaze, “Not really. There were a lot of them, but nothing major.”

“Dare I ask what brought this on then?” Carlos asked with a significant look towards TK’s position, though the person in question failed to notice as his head was once again buried in Carlos’s shoulder.

“Judd,” TK said, the exasperation in his voice evident even with his face pressed against Carlos. 

Carlos bit back a smile, “And what did Judd have to say today?” 

“He kept asking me why they ‘don’t know you’. What is that even supposed to mean? Of course, they know you - not knowing your favorite color isn’t going to change anything.” 

Carlos had a distinct feeling that he was missing at least half the story. “Did Judd say why he thought it was an issue?” 

TK lifted his head up to shake it, “He just kept saying because we spent so much time together he - and the rest of the team - should be able to know you better. But the rest of the team doesn’t have a problem with it; it’s just Judd!” 

He glanced at Carlos, hoping to find validation in his face but when he found a thoughtful look instead, he groaned. 

“Don’t tell me you agree with him!” 

Carlos shook his head and chuckled, “No, not exactly. I was just thinking about how much I appreciate the fact that you have people in your life who care enough to get worked up about these things. Judd is just trying to protect you; he just wants you to be safe and happy. You know that, right?” 

TK deflated and flopped back into the couch, “Yeah,” he said glumly, “I do. Still, he acts like I’m a little kid instead of an adult fully capable of making my own choices. 

Carlos leaned over to where TK now rested against the back of the couch and planted a kiss on the top of his head. “Judd knows that, but it’s not going to stop him from being worried. That’s a good thing - it shows that he cares.” 

TK leaned back into Carlos’s embrace with a sigh, “I know you’re right, but it’s still annoying.” 

Carlos barked out a laugh, “Welcome to the world of siblings, only child.” 

TK swatted at him, “You know Michelle started spilling all your secrets, right?” he retorted. 

Carlos shrugged, “I accepted that I have no say in what Michelle Blake does many years ago. Life is easier when you just accept that.” 

--------

Judd let himself in their front door and was welcomed by the smell of Grace’s cooking. He smiled as he slipped his bag from his shoulder and headed into the kitchen, coming to a halt behind his wife as he slid his arms around her waist from behind. He leaned down to press a kiss against the side of her neck. She smiled and reached up a hand to cup his cheek as she turned to face him. 

“Well hello husband, how was work?” 

Judd waved a dismissive hand, “It was fine, but nothing compared to coming home and seeing you.” 

Grace laughed lightly, leaning forward to press a kiss against his jaw, “All these years and still a charmer. What am I going to do with you, Judson Ryder?” 

“Whatever you want.” 

She grinned coyly, “remind me of that after dinner.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

With one more kiss, she pulled herself out of his embrace and turned back to the stove where a pot of chili was simmering. Judd leaned against the counter next to her. “How was work for you today?” he asked.

She shrugged, “the usual really, nothing too crazy. What about you? Did you guys end up responding to that six-car pile-up?” 

Judd nodded, “We did. It thankfully wasn’t that bad - could have been a lot worse. Everyone walked away from it.”

“Thank God for that,” Grace said as she dipped a spoon into the chili to taste it. She considered before handing the spoon to Judd, “can you taste this? I feel like it needs something.” 

Judd obliged, taking a taste and making a sound of contentment, “Tastes perfect to me.” 

“You always say that.” 

“That’s because it always is!” 

“You’re no help,” Grace declared, but a smile was playing at her lips, “why don’t you get out some bowls and we’ll dig into this ‘perfect chili’ then?” 

Judd happily obliged. A few minutes later they were seated at their table chatting over their bowls of chili. Judd had recently returned to his topic of the day: Carlos Reyes.

“Don’t you think it’s strange that we don’t know anything about him?”

Grace shrugged, “I think we know the important things: he’s a good person and he cares about TK. Everything else is just extra and will come, with time.” 

“It just feels weird.” 

“Judd, have you considered that maybe you don’t know all that much because they’re still in the early stages of their relationship and are taking this time to get to know each other?” 

Judd faltered a bit, “I guess so. I still don’t think I like it. I just...I worry about him. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. He’s been through a lot; I don’t want to see him get crushed.” 

There was silence as Grace considered her response. “Then maybe you should tell him that. Right now he has no idea where your heart is in this, he doesn’t know why you’re so invested,” she said gently. 

Judd studied his chili as he spoke again, “You’re right,” he replied, “but I still feel like I need to get to know Carlos better. I just need to know that TK is in good hands.”

“Then instead of harassing the poor boy, why don’t we have them both over for dinner? I feel like it might be more effective than your firehouse interrogations.” 

Judd perked up, a smile spreading across his face, “Have I ever told you that you are a genius, Grace Ryder?” 

“It may have come up before, but it never hurts to hear it.” 

“Well, you are a genius, and I love you.” 

Grace smiled at him, “you’re sweet, but if we’re going to have people over for dinner we have work to do, so finish your chili.” 

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“Carlos, relax. It’s going to be fine.” 

Carlos looked up at the house before them with trepidation, “then why do I feel like I’m about to face the firing squad?” 

TK frowned at him, “I really don’t know. It’s just Grace and Judd, you know them! It’ll be fine.” 

“I know that I know them, but this feels different somehow.” 

TK turned in his seat to face him, “Different how?” 

Carlos shook his head miserably, “Like meeting your parents all over again, but worse. I love your dad, but he doesn’t exactly pull off intimidation well. Judd on the other hand…” 

TK scoffed and placed a comforting hand on Carlos’s knee, “Please, like Grace would let him do anything foolish.”

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

“Judson Ryder, you are not going to do anything foolish.” 

Judd made an indignant sound but Grace held up a finger, “I mean it, Judd. They are guests in our home, and Carlos is a nice boy that cares about TK. We don’t need any of this macho-man intimidation bullshit, thank you very much.” 

Judd grumbled and Grace raised an eyebrow, “Don’t you want TK to be happy? Because Carlos makes him happy. We’ve all seen it.” Judd deflated and she smiled at him, “I know your heart is in the right place my love, but TK doesn’t need you to be that. You wanted to get to know Carlos, then get to know Carlos. And that’s a lot easier to do when you’re not glowering at him.” 

“I love how we can have an entire conversation and I don’t even get a word in,” Judd griped, though the smile playing at his lips gave him away. Grace rolled her eyes at him, but any retort was cut off by the sound of the doorbell echoing through the house. They crossed to the front door and Grace pulled it open to reveal TK and Carlos standing on the front stoop, a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers in Carlos’s arms.

Grace gestured for them to enter, reaching out to pull TK into a hug as he entered. “I feel like I hardly see you anymore TK Strand,” she said reproachfully. 

TK chuckled into her shoulder, “Sorry Grace, I’ve just been busy between work and...other stuff.” 

“Mhm,” Grace said dryly as they pulled apart, “Well when ‘other stuff’ looks as good as he does, I guess I have to give you a pass.” She turned her gaze to Carlos then, still standing in the doorway. She took a step forward and pulled him into a hug as well. “It’s good to see you, Carlos.” 

Carlos returned the hug, “It’s good to see you too Grace,” he said as they pulled apart, “these are for you.” He held out the bottle of wine and bouquet of flowers he had brought. 

She smiled at him as she took them. “You’re a gem Carlos Reyes.” 

He returned her smile before his gaze traveled past her to Judd, who was clapping TK in the shoulder. Their gazes met and they studied each other for a moment before Judd stuck out his hand, “Carlos, it’s good to see you.”

Carlos grasped his hand, “You too, Judd.” 

There was silence again as TK and Grace glance at each other, TK’s eyebrows raised and Grace’s expression exasperated. She shook her head then and crossed to Judd, laying a hand on his shoulder, “Let’s eat, shall we?”

——————

“Grace, this is amazing. Is that tarragon on this?” 

Grace nodded, smiling at Carlos, “it is. I know dill is typical for salmon, but I just like the tarragon better. Has a bit more of a zing.” 

Carlos nodded enthusiastically, “It does. I hadn’t thought of trying that, but I’m going to be doing it from now on.” 

TK laughed lightly, “I’ll have no complaints about that. It really is good, Grace.” 

“Thank you, dear. So, am I correct I’m guessing that Carlos does most of the cooking?” 

Both TK and Carlos nodded. “He tries,” Carlos allowed, “but…”

“But the last time I tried I almost burned down Carlos’s kitchen, so we’re taking a break from that for a while,” TK finished. 

Judd laughed, “What, you don’t get enough of that at work?”

“Apparently not,” Carlos said drily as TK smiled sheepishly. 

“Maybe you guys should consider having him practice at work - at least you’d be better equipped to handle it there,” Carlos said to Judd, who chuckled. 

“I’ll talk to Strickland, but I make no promises. Besides he’s the best damn dish boy we’ve ever had you know, I’d hate to lose out on that.” 

TK rolled his eyes, “I’m right here you know,” he reminded them. 

Carlos nodded, “We know, you’re meant to hear it.” 

Judd chuckled again and TK shook his head. He sat back and watched the conversation flow. He watched Judd and Carlos banter across the table with a soft smile. He may have given Carlos a hard time about his nerves, but the truth was he had been a little nervous about tonight as well. He liked Carlos a lot; he may even love him. It mattered to him that he and Judd got along. Judd’s opinion mattered to him, too. Sometimes he marveled at the fact that he had found such solid relationships in such a short time since his move to Austin, but the fact was that he had and now he just wanted all these people who were so important to him to get along. Really, was that too much to ask?

Dinner passed without incident, but there was a tension evident just below the surface. TK knew that Grace sensed it too. When she asked him to go to the kitchen with her to get dessert out, he nodded and followed only allowing himself a solitary glance over his shoulder to where Judd and Carlos now sat in strained silence. 

As he and Grace moved through the kitchen, he couldn’t help but glance back at the doorway, wondering what was happening beyond the threshold. 

“Worrying at the door won’t change anything,” Grace chided lightly as she pulled out a stack of dessert plates. 

TK sighed, “I know, but I don’t think I can help it.” 

Grace shook her head, “Our boys maybe both be stubborn and just a bit hard-headed, but they’re not fools. They know how important this is to you, and they both want what’s best for you. That’s where they’ll find their common ground. From there, maybe they’ll realize just how much alike they are.” 

TK paused in the act of gathering forks from the drawer Grace had indicated, “They are, aren’t they?” 

“Fortunately or unfortunately, They may not always have the same approach or temperament, but they both care so deeply, and love so thoroughly. I’m happy for you TK; there’s nothing in the world quite like being loved like that.” 

TK smiled down at the silverware draw in an attempt to hide the blush he knew was creeping up his cheeks. “It is quite something, isn’t it?” he said softly. 

He shut the drawer and crossed over to where Grace had the pie and the plates on a tray. When he drew closer, she looked him in the eyes.

“It’s going to be alright you know, this thing with Judd and Carlos? Judd is just worried, but he’ll see what we all see.”

TK nodded, “I know,” he replied, voice strong and confident,  “I never doubted it.” 

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

There was silence in the dining room after TK and Grace left for the kitchen. Judd and Carlos studied each other, each holding the other’s gaze. It was Carlos who finally broke the silence. 

“You do realize trying to intimidate me won’t work, right Judd? Just say what you want to say.” 

Judd nodded, “I don’t know what you know about TK’s past - and it’s not my place to tell you - but I know that he had been through a lot. He has survived a lot to get to this point, and he’s still healing. It’s not that I don’t think he can take care of himself, lord knows he can and has, but I don’t want to see him have to.”

“And you want to know you can trust me to not hurt him,” Carlos finished. 

“That about sums it up,” Judd agrees. 

“Then I think you should know the most important fact about me: I care about TK Strand far too much to ever hurt him. And I think you knew that already Judd, otherwise we would have had this conversation a long time ago.” 

Judd shrugged, “I’m not TK’s keeper - he doesn’t need my permission to do anything or see anyone. I’m just looking to find out more about you, so I can make my own conclusions. I just want to know more about the person my little brother is trusting his heart with.”

There was silence again that stretched for several long moments before Carlos spoke again, voice softer, “I’m glad he has you looking out for him Judd.” 

Judd shrugged, “he’s my brother.” He said it matter of factly; as if it should be obvious. Carlos nodded. 

“Still,” he continued, “I appreciate it and I know he does too, even if he doesn’t always show it. But if it makes you feel better, I suppose you can ask a few questions.” 

Judd grinned, “Then tell me, Carlos, what is your favorite color?” 

--------

It was late when they fell into bed that night stuffed with Grace’s cooking and the warmth of good conversation with friends. 

“Have I mentioned yet how happy I am that neither of us has to get up early tomorrow?” TK asked. 

Carlos laughed lightly as he rolled closer to TK, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him closer, “You may have, once or twice.” 

“Well I am,” TK reiterated, “Nothing in the world sounds better than spending a morning in bed with you. Especially after all that food we ate.” 

“I thought we were going to roll out of there,” Carlos agreed.

TK’s answering laugh was light and it made Carlos’s heart swell. He pulled him closer, burying his head into the crook of TK’s neck. “That was nice,” he said eventually, “it was nice to spend time with them, to get to know them a little better.” 

“The fact that Judd didn’t pummel you like you were worried he might probably doesn’t hurt either.” 

“I did not think he was going to do that,” Carlos muttered defensively, “but I’m still glad we got to talk things out.” 

TK rolled over to face him. He reached out a hand and ran it down Carlos’s arm. He held Carlos’s gaze for a moment before looking down at the space between them. 

“Did you realize when you came up to me in that bar that you’d be in for this level of crazy family?” he asked softly. 

Carlos kissed him lightly on the forehead before leaning back into his pillow, “not in the slightest, but you’re worth it.” 

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

[Read on Ao3]

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #tarlos #judd ryder #@any of my mutuals let me know when your birthday is and I will write you something too! it's the least I could do for you wonderful people #my writing

[clickbaitcas]

goood morning!! ok I have 3 things: 1) I feel so validated in this chili’s tonight j*red has always been,,,, idk weird-y feeling for me idk but seeing this slander today?? AMAZING. 2) diiiiid u get my thing yesterday about how i read all of ur posts? i can’t remember if it said it went through or not lol. 3) I have a LOT of christmas shit to do today so I probably won’t be here very much 😔 but yeah! I hope u have a good day and I will check in every once in a while :) love youuu ~☘️

Good morning!

Oh I'm so glad your in on the j*red slander it's a Good Time ajdjsjs

Yea I saw that one asjk

Christmas shit is always fun! Have fun 😌

I love you too 💖

#baiting the w*ncesties is my new form of entertainment #altho idk where they get off talking abt r*pe and h*man tr*fficking in teenagers inboxes but 🤷‍♀️ #seriously if you were a j*red apologist idk man.... I was bouta do the 'it's not me it's you' speech akdks #☘️ anon #grace answers asks? #i appreciate you human

[ineffablefool]

Hi I saw your reveal of the Secret Thing and ofc I am psyched because I love all of your fics and then I was looking down the bulleted list going "nice" and thEN I GET TO THE LAST ONE AND I. I'M . I FEEL VALIDATED IN THIS CHILIS TONIGHT . I NEED A MINUTE

See, my point is.  My point is, I am definitely ace, and almost positive I’m on the aro spectrum somewhere.  And theoretically, I really like mouth kisses.  Reading about characters smooching, if I am invested in their relationship, is very pleasant for me, and gives me big ol swoopy romantic feelings (while making me wish I had someone to kiss too).

On the other hand, I haven’t had one of them for myself in... oh.  huh.  Precisely 17 years as of today, I’m pretty sure.  How’s that for timing?  But anyway -- a long long time.  And maybe I wouldn’t actually enjoy them in practice!  How would I know by now!  There are a lot of aspects of them which actually seem kind of gross when I think about them too much.

So I get that some people just think they’re gross, or invasive, or whatever.  And theoretically, in another decade or three, I might have a chance to try them again and realize that no, they actually aren’t for me.  But my own back catalog will still be there for me even if I do change my mind!  It will have lots and lots of softness in it, including softness that doesn’t depend on mouth kisses at all.  And Future Me might appreciate that, plus Current Lots Of People can appreciate it now.  So sometimes I leave them out.  Including here!

That’s m’point!

I hope you enjoy the story, anon.  It’s being a weird experience to write, because I have an outline and I knew how many chapters it was gonna be before I started and all this organization and planning is a strange and alien experience.  But!  It will be (eventually) Soft, and ace, and contain cuddles and snuggles and kisses on things like cheeks and noses but never directly on another person’s mouth.  Anyone who reads my stuff is probably not against any of these things.

PS you are very valid and very important, ilu <3

#ineffablefool reply #Anonymous

[vorhersage]

ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS THEN TAG THOSE YOU’D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER!

Feel free to delete or add questions! tagged by :  @youthblamed​ and @prophezeiung <3

nicknames:   the only valid one is evil. iykyk

zodiac:   taurus sun, leo moon, libra rising

height:  1.75m or 5′9 i’m taller than all of you uwu

timezone:   central european time / gmt+2 atm

sexuality (if comfortable):   women. the rest is up to debate and plays a big part in my current identity crisis

favorite band / artist:   my... my favourite musicals are six and great comet does that count

song stuck in my head:   what i know now from beetlejuice lmao

last movie i saw:   the hamilton pro-shot YES I HAVE A BRAND I KNOW OK

last thing i googled:   ‘work physics’ because i was doing homework and had a mini breakdown uwu.

do i get asks:   sometimes yes!!!

following:     not that many people but i love every single one of you <3

followers:       i guess about as many as i follow??

average amount of sleep:   i pretend it’s 7 hours, but it gets less and less each night. no i’m not ok

what i’m wearing:   a yellow polo shirt and beige shorts, my inner gansey is really showing today

dream job:   state’s attorney or ambassador or polititcian or.... cottagecore lesbian. i have two sides

favorite food:   chili con carne with extra spice 

favorite animal:   cats!!!!

play any instruments:   i played the viola for like ten years before i gave up and switched to viola and that... says an awful lot about me jhdjhsjh

eye color:   blue

hair color:   currently bleach blond with a hint of pink left at the roots and also the darker natural roots slowly growing out??? it’s uglie and i have to dye it pink again but i wanna give it a break lmao

languages you speak:  swiss german, german, english, french, spanish, and i also took three years of latin

random fact:    i have my own column in a big-ish newspapers and i chose to make it about conspiracy theories uwu. my ‘state’s’ politicians now have read quality content like why the earth is flat or what nelson mandela and darth vader have in common, and i think that’s very neat

tagging:  you, i think everyone’s done it already so...?

#「 ooc. * dash games ☀— ❝ playtime’s actually not over ❞ 」 #「 ooc. * mun ☀— ❝ big gay side character energy ❞ 」 #uwu?

[knifegremliin]

list of things that made today a good day:

1. had three cups of tea. one in the morning (earl grey), one in the afternoon (chai) and one in the evening (chamomile)

2. got to see Fresh and Sinbad’s cute little snoots today (my ball python and my hognose!)

3. Carson decided to climb up my arm and the feeling of his little toes made me go hbegjknalefw;k

4. made myself grilled cheese for lunch! it was very tasty!

5. had chili for dinner!

6. had mac and cheese for a snack before bed. today was just a comfort food day, a’right?

7. listening to The Magnus Archives

8. somehow managing to get a little bit of writing done, despite having a bad adhd day due to forgetting my meds this morning

9. cuddled with my dog! I do this every day, but y’know, still important to mention

10. one of my cats let me touch her toe beans <3 she doesn’t normally, but she let me do it today! she also let me touch her belly which was awesome :D

11. got to blab about and share some of my writing with my online friend! I do this a lot but it makes me happy any time I get to blab about my ocs hgjkfml

12. watched a bunch of lgbtq+ videos and felt very validated

13. I’m apparently just Wakko from Animaniacs and honestly, I’m pretty chill with that.

14. saw multiple cute cat videos!

#maybe i should do this every day #idk #just writing about things that made today a good day made me pretty happy #maybe it's stupid but it worked #it really made me realize how much of a good day today was #even if i didn't get things done that i should've #it made me feel a lot less guilty about that #bc hey #today WAS a good day #and that's pretty awesome

[captainamericasbeard]

I Owe You One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Just fluff. Fluff and too much food. 

Summary: Bucky steals your food and your heart in the process. Awwwwe.

A/N: This is my entry for @barnesrogersvstheworld ‘s writing challenge. My prompt was “I owe you one.” “You owe me three. At least” It’s in bold. I had a ton of fun writing it and I hope you love it. Sorry if I make your tummy rumble with all the delicious food references. Please like, comment, and reblog. I like the validation. 

_______________________________________________________________________

Bucky was always taking your food. You’d lost count of the number of times you’d walked into the kitchen and found him hunched over a meal you’d whipped up for yourself. Perfectly prepared BLTs gone in a few bites. Four bowls of spaghetti bolognese in the time it took you to take a shower. A whole pan of chorizo macaroni and cheese. You didn’t even get a bite. There was no limit to what he could eat and he seemed to have very little guilt about the whole thing. You’d walk back into the kitchen and find him hunched over your plate, a fleeting look of guilt in his eyes and he’d mumble around his mouth full of food, “I’ll owe you one.” He was deeply in your debt at this point.

You two were a match made in culinary heaven. You’re an excellent cook and he’s an indecent eater. He devours his food. He absolutely stuffs his face. He moans over your cooking in a way that makes you blush. He practically sings your praises while he eats and he would lick the plate if you’d let him. You don’t really mind. It makes you happy to make him happy and his sweet words makes your stomach somersault.

But lately you’ve taken to eating in strange places in an attempt to hide from him. A bowl of lemon chicken pasta on the floor of the server room. A plate of garlic and chili prawns with homemade crusty bread at the desk of a disused office. You even once considered taking your chicken schnitzel sandwich up into the vents but then you’d have to share with Clint. It wouldn’t have mattered, Bucky could find you anywhere. Just when you thought you’d found the perfect spot he’d whip open the door and shout “Aha!” He’d look pleadingly between your eyes and your plate of food with such longing until you handed over your meal resignedly. You’d never be able to resist that look.

_______________________________________________________________________

One day you were sitting at the table over a simple breakfast of coffee and banana bread slathered with ricotta cheese, honey, and cinnamon. Bucky was on his third slice and you realized this was the only slice you’d be getting. You got up to refill your coffee and Bucky asked “What’s something you love to eat that you can’t make?” You thought for a moment.

“Phở.”

“Phở?”

“Yeah, phở.”

“What the hell is phở?”

“It’s a Vietnamese soup. It’s got noddles and meat and herbs. It’s spicy and sweet and amazing. I’d be out of my depth trying to make it myself. And its so cheap you might as well just go to a restaurant for it.” Your eyes took on a dreamy far away look as you thought about tender pieces of sweet chicken floating in a broth that took two days to make.

“Let’s go. Let’s go get phở,” Bucky says snapping you out of your reverie.

“Yeah? You’d be up for trying it?” You ask.

“Yeah! I think its cool that you can get food from just about anywhere now. I never would have got a chance to try Vietnamese chicken noodle soup back in Brooklyn. Let’s go. Can we go now?” He starts getting up from his chair, his mouth watering at the dish you’ve described.

“Bucky, we're literally eating breakfast right now,” you roll your eyes at him, “can we at least wait until lunch?”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” he sits back down and grabs his fourth slice of banana bread.  

_______________________________________________________________________

Bucky hangs out with you in the kitchen while you spend some time cleaning bowls and loaf trays. You wipe down all the surfaces and cleaned out the fridge from countless containers of Chinese leftovers. “Damnit Clint,” you mutter as you fill up the trashcan. You whip up a batch of chocolate and caramel chip brownies and Bucky doesn’t even wait for them to cool before he devours half the tray and finishes the milk. He has started pacing at this point, ready to go. Finally you can’t handle his anxious energy any longer.

“Ok, ok, I’ll go get my jacket.” Bucky whoops and does a little dance as he rushes off to his room to grab his own jacket. You go to your room and while grabbing your jacket you decide you need to pull a brush through your hair and wash the flour off of your face. The few extra minutes you spend trying to look presentable has Bucky pounding at your door.

“What’s taking so long, Doll!?” The nickname puts a smile on your face.

“Sorry, just trying to look decent,” you say as you step out of your room and pull the door closed behind you. “You always look perfect, Doll. Don’t stress about it.” You dip your head down to hide your blushing under the pretense of zipping up your leather jacket. You look back up at Bucky to find him watching you intently. “Ready?” He asks with a smile playing on his lips.

“Ready,” you smile back.

It’s a perfect autumn day in New York City. The air is crisp and you both bury your hands in your jackets as you stroll down the sidewalk. There’s not much conversation happening but you don’t mind. Bucky’s presence makes you feel calm and collected. You always enjoy being around him and today was no different. Your favorite phở place was only a ten minute walk and you were there before you knew it.

The restaurant is a hole-in-the wall place, just as it should be. It was appropriately named Phở Noodles and as you opened the door you were greeted by the familiar tinkling of a bell and the soft brown eyes of the owner.

“Seat for two?” She asks with her thick accent, holding up two fingers to make herself clear. Her eyes twinkle mischievously. She’s used to you coming in by yourself.

“Yes please,” you respond with a wide smile. She seats you and Bucky next to the window and brings your waters. Bucky takes off his jacket as he sits and you watch him take in the decor, the kitchen in the back, and most importantly the bowls of phở at your neighbor’s table. He looks at you with childlike excitement in his eyes and you have to giggle at him. Your waitress comes over with a sweet smile and waits patiently for your order. You don’t even glance at the menu as you order two chicken phở, two Thai teas, and a share plate of egg rolls. The waitress nods and smiles and takes your menus as she walks back to the kitchen. You fold your hands on the table and turn back to Bucky who had watched the entire transaction with interest.

“So you come here a lot,” he asks, smirking.

“Yeah I guess. Three or four times a month. It’s comforting after a hard mission or a long day to just let someone else cook for dinner for once.”

“I think I owe you an apology,” Bucky says sheepishly and you raise your eyebrow. “I’m sorry I always steal your food.”

“Yeah, you do seem to have singled me out.”

“I can’t help it! You're just an amazing cook! I can always tell when its you in there and my mouth just starts watering and I just have to have some.” He looks at you, eyes pleading forgiveness.

“You know, you could just ask. I’d be happy to double the recipe so there’s enough for both of us. Where do you put it all anyways? You don’t look like you eat as much as you do.”

Bucky turns lightly pink at the implied compliment. “Hyperactive metabolism. Its a side affect of the serum. My metabolism runs about four times faster than yours. Steve’s is even worse. You see how many eggs he goes through.” You both laugh, Steve is famous for his daily dozen egg omelette.

“Gotcha. That makes sense. But why do you have such an indecent relationship with your meals.”

“Real answer or fake answer,” Bucky asks hesitantly.

“Real answer of course.”

“All the time I was with Hydra I never ate any real food. They kept me alive through IVs. I think I’m just making up for all the meals I missed” He was casual about it but you could tell it hurt him to relive any part of his time with Hydra. Meanwhile your heart had dropped out of your chest. You decided then and there you would never withhold food from Bucky Barnes ever again.

“I’m so sorry, Buck. I don’t know what else to say.”

“It’s ok. You don’t have to say anything.” He reaches his hand across the glass top table and gently holds yours. He was the one reliving the horrors of his past and here he was comforting you. Your brain goes fuzzy at the touch but luckily your food arrives before you can make a fool out of yourself.

Two huge, steaming bowls of broth, chicken, and rice noodles are placed in front of you. Next comes the plate with all the traditional toppings- mint and scallions, lime and sprouts, and more. Finally down comes your teas and the egg rolls with their light sauce full of shredded carrots. You teach Bucky how to add the toppings, which sauces were savory and which were spicy. You show him how to hold the chopsticks and the spoon for scooping up the broth. You both dig in and Bucky does not hold back his praises for his dish. He moans at the first bite. He loves each element of the soup and how they come together in perfect harmony. He slurps his broth oblivious to the glances of the other patrons. Before you’re halfway through your own bowl, Bucky is ordering his second.

“So you like it,” you comment between bites. Bucky nods his reply as he prepares and dives into his second bowl. Finally you’re too full to eat another bite so you slide your bowl over to Bucky as he’s finishing his. He doesn’t skip a beat as he pulls your bowl closer and keeps eating. You suppress a giggle and watch him enjoy one of your favourite things. Your heart swells knowing you’ve brought him the joy of a new discovery. Bucky finishes and sighs contentedly, his hands on his stomach and a smile on his face.

“Yeah,” he says seriously, “that’s pretty damn good. Thanks Y/N.”

“Anytime Buck.”

_______________________________________________________________________

You walk back to the tower in contented silence. Once inside you make a quick decision. “Come with me,” you say as you head towards your room. You open the door and move across the room to your closet. You stand on your tiptoes reaching into the top shelf while Bucky watches curiously from the foot of your bed. You pull out a decorative box wrapped in plastic wrap from underneath a pile of sweaters. “Come sit down,” you say as you begin to peel layers of plastic off of the box. “I’ve got dessert.”

“You’ve been holding out on me, Y/L/N,” Bucky says as he sinks to the floor and inspects the contents of the box.

“Yeah sorry. It won’t happen again I promise,” you glance at him from the corner of your eye and he’s looking at you with a dopey smile on his face. “They’re my grandma’s cookies. She makes them every year and sends me a box. I tend to hoard them. They’re chocolate peanut butter pinwheels.” Bucky’s eyes light up as he starts to reach into the box. Quickly he clenches his fist and pulls back.

“Sorry. May I have some?” He asks looking down at you with the sweetest expression on his face.

“Of course, Buck,” you answer softly and you both dig into the box.

“Too bad we’re out of milk,” Bucky comments around a mouth full of cookie.

“And who’s fault is that?” Bucky laughs and goes in for what might be his fourth cookie. Together you polish off the box in one sitting, Bucky eating the lion’s share of the precious treat. After the last crumb has been picked off of the inside of the box you both sigh contentedly.

“Thanks for sharing, Y/N, I know they were pretty special. I owe you one, for sure.”

“For that you owe me three. At least.” You burst out laughing and Bucky joins. You’ve never felt so contented, sitting on the floor of your closet laughing with the man who has managed to capture your heart.

_______________________________________________________________________

It’s a week after the phở and it’s managed to be a particularly terrible day. You decide there’s no way you’re cooking and opt to order out Chinese instead. You settle on your favorite garlic and ginger chicken with rice and a few egg rolls. Hanging up the phone you move to your room for a quick shower and to change into some sweats and an old t-shirt. All you can think about is the newest episode of Brooklyn 99 and your dinner on it’s way to you. You open the door to your room and immediately smell trouble. Your food has arrived. You rush to the kitchen to see Bucky hunkered over a container of Chinese food. YOUR Chinese food. The delivery guy must have come while you were in the shower. You stomped your foot and threw your hands onto your hips. Your eyes were flashing in anger.

“James Buchanan Barnes. What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Bucky’s head snaps up. His body freezes with chopsticks in one hand and the box in the other. He gulped down his bite and looked so damn guilty you immediately softened your stance, dropping your hands down to your sides.

“Shit, Doll, I’m so sorry. I thought it was Clint’s! Can I owe you one?” He looked truly remorseful and your heart just fell apart.

“No, Bucky, you cannot owe me one. You owe me about a million. And you know what, I’m cashing in now.” You step towards him with your heart pounding out of your chest. You knew he could hear it but you didn’t care. You strode up to him and closed the gap between your bodies. You paused inches away from his face, giving him a chance to say something or push you away. He did nothing but swallow hard as his eyes flew from your bright, blazing eyes to your soft lips and back again. Before you could think about it you bring your lips to his in a tender kiss. He was frozen for a moment, food still in hand, but his lips quickly melt into yours. He throws the food onto the counter you have him pushed up against and wraps his arms around your waist, deepening the kiss. You rest your hands lightly on his chest for a moment before you move them up to tangle your fingers in his hair. He moans into your mouth like he did with that bowl of phở and you couldn’t help but smile. He pulls you closer to him as your passions grow and he tasted like garlic and ginger, savory and sweet all at once. You finally brake away to breath, locking eyes with each other.

“I'm glad one of us finally had the courage to do that,” Bucky whispers, his voice low and husky. “So I’m not in trouble for eating your dinner?” He smiles down at you with a devilish grin.

“You keep kissing me like that and you can steal all the food you want.” Your lips reconnect and you realized you were both hungry in a way food could never satisfy.

#attie's challenge challenge #Bucky Barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes drabble #bucky drabble #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel writing challenge #marvel imagine #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky reader insert

[galaxygerm103]

An Unpopular Opinion + an Analysis

Hello Be More Chill fandom, today I'm gonna share a very unpopular opinion that's probably gonna get me killed, but it proves self awareness and that's good.

My opinion? Boyf Riends is low-key toxic.

Now you're probably gonna be like "no it's not? It's cute and soft and-" yeah, yeah, I know. Everybody and their mom seems to stan this ship so… this is gonna get me killed.

But hear me out. I'm gonna actually explain why I think this.

So, to show that their romantic relationship would be toxic, we gotta look at their friendship first.

So, we'll start with the first interaction they have in "More Than Survive". It starts out basic enough, Michael shows up listening to music, Jeremy predicts exactly what it is he's listening to, and then the song ends. Michael proceeds to tell Jeremy he "looks like ass" which is something friends do so that's not bad. Then Jeremy brings up the backpack thing. He's clearly upset about it, but instead of trying to cheer him up, Michael doesn't even seem to notice he's upset, and laughs off the whole thing. The topic changes and one of the most iconic lines in the musical shows up aka "there's never been a better time in history to be a loser". Now this line seems harmless but in one rehearsal video, Jeremy's response is a dry "thanks" because this isn't the mindset he has. He doesn't want to be a loser but Michael doesn't understand that. It's kind of the foundation of the problem. Michael isn't noticing his best friend's feelings, there is a lack of communication here. Also, he should be telling Jeremy he's not a loser, not that he should embrace being one, because what Jeremy needs isn't what Michael needs.

Okay, interaction 2, right before "I Love Play Rehearsal". This one's short but it boils down to Michael low-key(very low-key) manipulating Jeremy into continuing his effort to talk to Christine. By telling Jeremy that he'll make fun of him forever if he doesn't go into the auditorium, which I know sounds like playful teasing and maybe it is but that doesn't matter, by saying that, Michael gives Jeremy an ultimatum. And I doubt Jeremy wants to be teased about being a coward forever by his best friend. That just doesn't sound fun. So to avoid even more teasing in his life, he opens the auditorium door.

Interaction 3 is "Two Player Game" so this is gonna be a long one. Now, the first line of verse 1 is I think the nicest thing Michael really says to Jeremy, because he actually calls him cool, which is validating to our self hating protagonist. Then it falls downhill when Michael says "you're just a nothing in this highschool scheme" because that's only gonna make Jeremy feel worse. The rest of the first verse is just Michael tryna explain to Jeremy that they'll be fine if they stick together. The chorus is kind of once again ignoring Jeremy's feelings because he doesn't want to wait to be a loser anymore. He wants to be able to love himself and be liked by others in the present day. He's been waiting since he was little for the chance to be liked it seems. The next verse gives us Jeremy's insight on the whole situation, and he says he "wants to move on" which implies that he's sick of being a loser in the eyes of everybody, including both himself and Michael. Michael seems to completely ignore the fact that Jeremy is upset once again because when Jeremy points out they're not in college, Michael shrugs it off like "it doesn't make any difference". The only part of the song where we see any open communication between them is the third verse. Jeremy's pretty vulnerable here because, in context, he's worrying about his future if he doesn't stop being a loser. The "favorite person" part is probably the sweetest moment these two share through the entire musical, and it's the closest we ever see them, although I'm starting to think Michael means more to Jeremy than he realizes, which is why he asks Jeremy if he's really his favorite person. Jeremy has nobody else so of course Michael is the one person he tells everything but Michael doesn't really seem to get Jeremy's feelings so Jeremy stopped telling him all the things he feels(aka the things he talks about in "Loser Geek Whatever"). The rest of the song is just a reprise of the beginning of the song so it's not entirely important to this argument.

Interaction 4 is the mall scene and this has a pretty telling moment in it. Ignoring the Payless part, the food court scene has more to unpack than you'd think. So Jeremy takes the Squip and when it "doesn't work" he's upset. He needs comforting clearly, although he pretends he doesn't("leave me to mourn in my chili fries forever"). Michael, instead of providing comfort to his clearly distraught best friend, sees this as a chance to go grab some discontinued soda that he could get later. He could take five minutes to comfort his best friend but instead he goes off to do his own thing. He's ignoring his best friend's needs for his own wants. It's actually selfish.

The next interaction is short and one sided, in which Jeremy sees Michael twice during "Sync Up" and is saddened when he doesn't see him. He would've seen him by now, so he's confused when they haven't seen each other all day. This probably made Jeremy think Michael was avoiding him, which we find out isn't true.

Interaction 6, the beginning of the maybe end. The end of act 1. Jeremy and Michael are both confused by the fact they haven't talked all day. Michael is quick to blame it on Jeremy avoiding him, but Jeremy figures out that it was the Squip pretty quickly. Of course, during this interaction we get Jeremy's solo("Loser Geek Whatever") in which we see one of the most telling things about their relationship. "Michael thinks that weird is rad but feeling weird just makes me sad". This sums up their relationship pretty well, Michael is comfortable with himself but doesn't realize that Jeremy isn't comfortable. This interaction ends with Jeremy blocking out Michael. He's sick of having his feelings ignored by his only friend, and maybe he can have his feelings noticed and validated by other people. He's done being in Michael's shadow, because there's more to him than just being Michael's player 2.

Interaction 7, the bathroom intervention scene. This scene has a LOT to go through so let's get into it(using the new version here). Jeremy runs into the room panicking and when Michael reveals himself, the first thing he gets on about is how Jeremy left him. He stops when he sees Jeremy smiling because Jeremy missed him. He's happy to see him but then Michael gets on about the Squip and is talking about how there are consequences to it. Jeremy points out that Michael said technology isn't dangerous and the two of them get into their fight and Michael says he's looking out for Jeremy. Jeremy says for once in his life he can look out for himself, then the scene continues like the original and Jeremy calls Michael a loser. Jeremy isn't in the right state of mind in this scene, he was almost raped and he's scared. You'd think Michael would ask him what's wrong but he doesn't. He gets pissed at him without even being concerned about his emotions. Yet again we see that Michael is bad at recognizing Jeremy's feelings. I'm not saying he doesn't care about Jeremy, because he does(or else he wouldn't be here in the first place to warn him about the Squip), I'm saying that Michael is bad at recognizing Jeremy's emotions to a point where he ends up accidentally making the situation worse. Michael's actually the one who started the argument because he brought up the Squip without realizing how scared and upset Jeremy was. Not saying Jeremy's to blame, he could have handled the situation better but Michael started the whole argument. As for Jeremy calling Michael a loser, I think this may be Jeremy projecting. Because Michael is explaining every doubt Jeremy had about the Squip. Jeremy was even scared to take it("what if it's dangerous?"). Jeremy finally has more people to talk to, he finally isn't alone, he isn't in a healthy place and he's clearly not happy, but he's seemingly convinced himself that he is. He's convinced himself that the Squip is the only thing that can help him so when Michael warns him about it he lashes out, calling Michael the same thing that they'd both been called for years. Michael's reaction is probably due to shock and the realization that maybe he low-key drove his best friend away. Although he doesn't think he did anything wrong so who knows. We know Jeremy feels bad about this the next day though because he says this: "I didn't wanna hurt Brooke! I didn't wanna hurt ANYONE! Now Rich is in the hospital, my best friend thinks im a jerk, and Christine, you were supposed to make her like me!"

Now the next isn't an interaction but it's something Michael does that's extremely petty. Michael gives up on Jeremy completely. And he admits to it by the end of the musical("oh I was ready to watch you suffer"). It took Mr. Heere's convincing and low-key cheesy methodology to convince Michael to save Jeremy.

The next interaction is the fight during the play. In which Jeremy isn't in control of himself and is fighting the Squip internally while fighting Michael physically. The Squip seems to have been putting negative thoughts about Michael into Jeremy's mind but Jeremy knows it's not true. Also Michael was being extremely selfish during this scene by not letting Jeremy have the MDR when he knows the dangers of the Squip. (Like c'mon man Jeremy could be shocked so much he'll die. Stop being petty.) I mean yeah Michael is high but I'm pretty sure he's high during every scene except for the Halloween party(weed helps with anxiety and Michael's anxiety clearly got the best of him there, so-) and the other scene is coming up. This scene just shows Michael's pettiness.

Final interaction, right before "Voices in my Head". Jeremy asks Michael why he came back and Michael reveals that he was gonna let Jeremy suffer until Mr. Heere came by. Michael just admitted to his pettiness, and I think, maybe, he realizes that he was a shitty friend. Also I don't think he's high in this scene because his giggles are gone and, from what I've heard, he is a lot more awkward this scene.

So now, why do I see Boyf Riends as low-key toxic? Well, taking into consideration the conflicts between the boys' needs and wants, and the lack of communication, and the sheer amount of petty behavior Michael shows, plus his quick blame of Jeremy after "Upgrade", Michael wouldn't be the best partner for somebody like Jeremy, who needs validation and needs somebody to listen to and understand his problems, and help him through them. If time is given to them both, yes sure it could work(a good example of this is the Boyf Riends breakup comic by @Artistic.Hoarder on Instagram), but with the canon and nothing else, Boyf Riends couldn't work without some level of toxicity. (This is only referring to Broadway.)

Thank you for reading. Feel free to kindly express your opinions. This isn't ship hate, I don't hate Boyf Riends, I feel if done right it can be a good ship.

#galaxyrants #galaxywrites #galaxyrambles #be more chill #be more chill jeremy #be more chill michael #boyf riends bmc #boyf riends #rambles #long post

[aleapoffaithfiction]

III.

"But the second she opened her eyes and looked at me, I knew. She was  either going to be the death of me . . . or she was going to be the one  who finally brought me back to life."    ― Colleen Hoover

“Aye.”

The lids of my eyes slightly closed at the call for my attention and yet my eyes never peered away from the television screen as it illuminated the living room far more than the sunlight slightly peering beyond the curtains covering the windows. While slightly shifting to further my comfort, I leaned forward to adjust the bag filled with ice covering my ankle and lightly ran my hand over Mowgli’s head before leaving him to lazily lie beside me as he always does whenever I’m lounging around somewhere downstairs. Much like our usual unhealthy evening routine, while he lay there in solace, I popped a couple of Gushers into my mouth and cured my typical candy craving.

“Aye.”

“What?” My mumbled response surely wasn’t loud enough for anyone to hear but it’s whatever.

In the midst of the three men on the screen is by far the most intriguing being walking the planet. I can easily admit that I have not been everywhere nor have I experienced every good thing that this planet has to offer but I’m willing to bet on everything I know and have that I’m accurate in what I believe and have observed ever since I laid my eyes on her. A small smirk tugged along my lips as her eyes lit up and a fit of giggles erupted from her petite frame as Chad Johnson randomly tossed in his own hot take about why Lebron should have never left Miami, Chad’s native. They’ve been debating back and forth for over ten minutes about the ongoing James versus Irving tension that has lit the NBA and media worlds on fire.

On one end of the panel you have Kobe advocating for the hunger of leadership and the ability to withdraw from the immense shadow of the well-known king and then there’s Chad is who is standing with Lebron and deeming Kyrie’s antics to be a cry for attention that he may regret later on down the line. To the left of Sarai, there’s Scott, a heavy Lebron critic who will find any reason to rip the man to shreds, and today is certainly no different. He’s already assured in Kyrie winning a championship in Boston before Lebron wins another without him in Cleveland, which is a trash ass perspective because when it’s all said and done, Lebron is still Lebron. Sarai, per her usual, kept a balanced stance about the entire situation. Much like myself, she could see both sides of the issues between the men and thought it was best that the two did part ways despite the magic of the 2016 NBA Finals.

I’ve been tuning into the show since its beginning. I found out about it while skimming through my Twitter timeline and was instantly sold as soon as I read both Kobe and Chad’s names. As for Sarai, I’d only seen her name at the end of a couple of Sports Illustrated articles and though I didn’t physically see her, I know she was around when I shot for the ESPN Body Issue because I heard her name being mentioned throughout the hallways. It wasn’t until the first day of the show that I was able to put a face to the name that I hadn’t forgotten for whatever reason and within that very moment it felt like all of my organs halted their functioning for just a brief second. I stopped talking, stopped moving, and finally stopped breathing.

As she sat there with her back pressed against the upper portion of the chair, her fingers nervously toyed with the pen resting on top of the paper filled with the discussion topics for their first episode. Along her lips was a nervous smile and her eyes panned back and forth in a manner that could easily inform the viewers of just how overwhelmed she was. It didn’t seem to be the presence of men that overpowered and mentally belittled her, but instead the stature of the men who surrounded her. Despite being quite established in journalism, she was sitting among a five-time NBA champion, a six-time Pro Bowl and three-time First Team appearing NFL player, and a Harvard Graduate School journalist who came over to ESPN from Fox Sports. I’m sure she was wondering how would she ever be able to compete with that and just as I expected, it only took her a few days to figure it out; three days to be exact. By Thursday, she was on fire with every single perspective she brought to the table and had no issue going toe to toe with whoever challenged her. Most would say it wasn’t until she spoke up for me that she became the commodity on the show, but I beg to differ. She’d already taken that title by their second week running.

“Tud!”

Her poise is so alluring and she has this infectious giggle that instantly weakens your knees upon hearing it. I’m not sure what kind of skin care routine it takes in order for her milk chocolate skin to illuminate in the manner that it does, but I have to assume that it has to be God given rather than something that anyone has bottled up to be sold on shelves. I’ve encountered more women that I can count in passing and sometimes through simple introductions or interactions and none of them have come close to what I make sure I am able to see Monday through Friday whether I’m at home to watch it or not. Beautiful is too simple to describe her appearance. Intoxicating is beneath all that her aura is. I’ve never been so in awe at any point of my life thus far. I’ve never felt so small, so unworthy.

“Tud!”

“What?” My head finally snapped in the direction of Ben’s voice and he instantly sucked his teeth as he stood in the entry way of the living room.

“I been calling your deaf ass for twenty minutes and now I realize you ain’t been answering me because you deaf. You been mute as fuck because you’re in here about to fuck up your shorts over Sarai.”

“Shut the fuck up. Why you so loud anyway?”

“Because I been calling yo ass for twenty minutes. You staying here? Me and Kav about to head out and fuck the city up. We gon’ find somewhere to eat and then probably hit up that Future party at 1Oak. Get off the couch and come on.” As good as it sounds, I’m not in much of a partying mood and the last thing I need is to be photographed inside of a club after having sat out in our first game of the season against the Cowboys due to my ankle fucking with me from a slight injury during the preseason and then Monday night’s struggle and loss against the Lions. Even with my limited playing time and Engram’s momentum, our offensive line just couldn’t hold tight against their defense and an 88-yard punt return touchdown eventually sealed that loss for us. I’m not stressing about being down two games because we’ve been here before, but we definitely need to make some transitions and really get things going. I think we’ll be ready for Philly come Sunday.

“Nah, ya’ll got it. I’ll be alright right here. I’ma just chill with the dogs, watch a movie probably, and get momma to make some turkey chili.”

“You sound like an old ass man right now. Who the fuck sits on the couch with their dogs and eats turkey chili on a Friday? You depressed? I know yo ankle ain’t hurting that damn bad. You was on fire at rehab today.”

“I just feel like chilling, honestly.”

“Or you just feel like watching The Sports Haven, because you damn sure ain’t putting on no movie. She doesn’t want you dawg.” Ben’s laughter caused Mowgli to lift his head and the both of us stared at him as he amused himself.

“Who said that I want her?”

“Oh, you don’t have to say it nigga. We know. Everybody knows. The day you did the interview, all people could talk about is the way you were looking at her. You had dudes feeling some type of way because they swear they have claim on that lady and then you had chicks shocked as fuck because they swear you only dip in the snow. You ain’t the first one though. The way ya’ll balling ass niggas drool over her has become a running joke and now you’re officially apart of that collage of videos they put together of it. I was laughing at that shit the other day. I meant to send it to you.” He didn’t have to send it to me because I’ve already seen it. I’ve seen it a couple of times before I was included in it and it absolutely does contain footage of athletes from a bunch of different sports ogling, damn near drooling, and fumbling over their words while speaking with her or sitting up there at that panel. What makes it hilarious isn’t them, it’s her. All of it goes right over her head. I’ve yet to see her flinch or even slightly entertain any of it.

“You stay over exaggerating shit.”

“I ain’t over exaggerating a motherfucking thing. Ain’t she fucking with Big Sean?” No. I asked him while out in L.A. two months ago. A photograph of the two of them at a party began circulating the internet and rumors immediately followed and though the both of them denied any connection through tweets, I still asked him during a casual conversation. I had to know. He didn’t deny that he tried to shoot his shot, but it was an air ball. She laughed off his flirtation and instantly acquaintance zoned him.

“Nah.”

“How you know?”

“I asked him.” I could have lied to get him off of my back, but for what?

“Look at you snooping around in her business. Why you trying to scare niggas off? That’s not yo girl. You trying to block every shot that’s coming her way meanwhile you don’t even have her number. You a fucking fool.” Now that? I’m not confirming it. I’ll never hear the end of it if I mention anything about her number being in my phone. I’m sure it could earn me some points with my boys but I’m not seeking that kind of validation and besides, I finessed the whole situation. It’s not like I flat out asked for it, so those points would be in the negatives.

“I'm not trying to block shit.”

“You are though, but it’s cool. When she rejects yo ass, you’ll finally get it. How you know she ain’t married? Sean might not be her man but somebody else may be occupying that spot and you trying to plot on a happy home. She looks like the married type too. She probably married to some rich ass white dude with her bougie ass. You see the way Scott’s Squidward in the face looking ass be looking at her?”

“She never wears a ring on her finger.” I observed that a long time ago. “And you don’t even know her so how are you calling her bougie? You speaking on some shit that you don’t know about.”

“Aight nigga. I’ma leave you alone with that situation. You ain’t getting her so you better scroll through those hundreds of numbers you have and call up one of your typical flavors of the week or month. You don’t even commit and yet you trying to add Sarai Nazaire to your roller deck of women. You a dog fam.”

If we were talking about anybody else, I would have laughed that off and shrugged at the partial truthfulness. I’ve been in a few relationships and I sometime handle urges in certain ways that could easily depict me as the embodiment of a fuck boy, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s who I am. It’s not. Ever since my LSU days, my pop would always tell me to just live my life and not to commit myself to anything other than football and the books because life would be easier that way. I’ve lived in-between trying to gain some perspective and experience and living that lifestyle ever since. It’s no secret that my profession comes with women consistently flocking in my direction, willing to do whatever is necessary for the sake of some type of time with me.

Temptation is a bitch and she’s gotten the best of me on numerous occasions. I can’t say that I’m proud of it but I’ve never felt the need to kick myself in the ass over it either. Surprisingly, neither has my mother. Despite my vague responses when she asks about my behavior with women, she knows what’s going down and never fails to secretly store boxes of condoms in my bedroom drawers and bags whenever I’m traveling out of town. Then there are the talks when she warns me that though it is known for women to be swept off of their feet, there will eventually come a time when a woman will do the same exact thing to me. It’ll be mutual and despite any resistance, I won’t be able to escape the feeling. What’s for me will be for me and love will fall right in line with that, so she claims. I laughed it off all throughout my teen years but as I’m reaching my mid-twenties, there seems to be a truth to it.

“Are you done? Can I get back to the show now?”

“Been done. I’ll be back and I’m sure you’ll be right here on the couch, rewinding this shit back when I do get here.”

“Fuck you.”

His obnoxious laughter filled the halls as he trekked through them and I pressed play on the episode once again. I hadn’t expected the segment to transition to me but it did. Everyone’s been discussing what I’d be contributing to my team this year since I’m so “injury prone”. My rookie year, I missed the entire preseason and the first couple of games of the regular season with hamstring issues that stemmed all the way back to a back injury at LSU. From there, I’ve had some issues on and off with it but nothing too major. The ankle situation I’m going through right now is minor. I’m not necessarily one hundred percent, but I’m solid enough to play.

Surprisingly, no one had much criticism about any of it other than Scott. He questioned the Giants’ offensive dependency on me and made an argument that they needed to draft someone to supposedly pick up my slack, but that was interjected by Sarai who bluntly told him that players get injured, it’s all a part of the game. Yet again, my stats were her focal point and as she’s been emphasizing, when I’m on the field the energy and the numbers reflect that and when I’m not, the team greatly suffers. What was left in question for her was the severity of what this slight injury is. She claimed to have watched my postgame interview after our loss to the Lions and hoped that I hadn’t downplayed anything simply so I’d be able to play.

“Scott, you’re not making any sense. The man is the first player in NFL history with eighty or more catches and a thousand or more receiving yards in each of his first three NFL seasons. When he is on and off the field, it’s felt by the team and their spectators. We all know this.” Her smirk filled my core with faint fluttering. Shit.

I’m alright. The sprain is in much better shape now. The training staff wanted me to give it some more time, so I sat out the first game. The Lions game could have been better, but I still felt solid enough. I’m good for Sunday though.

A number of reporters have my direct number in case they want to verify information or may want a quote about a specific story that’s circulating about me. If Sarai wants, she could do the same as well. I don’t have much of an issue allowing her to know whatever it is that she needs to know.

Maybe it’s just me but I still find that by low hit by Boddy-Calhoun super dirty. I’m glad to hear you’re feeling alright.

A lot of people feel the way she does. I watched the replay and I can’t call it. It was a tough play for a defensive back and I’ll just leave it at that. While it did piss me off within those few seconds after the fact, I left the anger right there on the field.

Lol It’s all good. Am I seeing you Sunday?

This is the first time I’ve been anxious for someone to see me play in person since my family, when I suited up to play in my first official Giants game. Though I won’t actually see her watching everything, just knowing that she’s within the stadium experiencing the excitement of the game amongst the wild fans will easily put a smile on my face. I’d like for her to be able to see that I want to live up to every moment when she’s spoken highly of me.

I’m going to try to make it.

Try? That’s a less than fifty percent chance that she’s coming.

Try sounds like you won’t come. I’m sulking now.

Is it weird that I actually am? I’m sure the disappointment the day off will feel worse if I don’t see her face.

Lol you’re funny Beckham. At least I said I’d try rather than flat out saying that I won’t.

I’m persistent. I hate maybes or possibilities. I’m all about making shit happen.

Or you can say that you will. That ticket comes with a pass for one of the luxury suites in the stadium, so you have the option of being out there in the mist of the madness or being tucked away from it. You have a VIP parking pass too, so there’s no need to go insane looking for parking. There’ll be appetizers, snacks, and drinks too.

I had to pull a lot of finesse for that. Tickets to the game aren’t difficult to get but VIP perks in another team’s home stadium isn’t easy to come by. It’s always helpful to know people who knows people and so on. I just want to make sure she’s comfortable.

You’re really selling it. It all sounds pretty convincing though. You know, I easily could have shown up with a media pass.

She could have. Her ESPN credentials most likely work all over the place.

True, but then you wouldn’t be my guest of honor and I’d prefer it that way instead. It’s the least I could do after all that you’ve done for me.

With her love of sports, I figured she’d prefer that over some flowers of thanks that’ll eventually die or some materialistic possession that may lose value within her life at some point. There’s nothing wrong with flowers, I’d send them in a heartbeat, but memories never die. They’re the foundation to our experiences and everything that we stand for.

I’ll be there Beckham. The jersey is debatable but I’ll be there. Thank you for the invitation and all that you’ve included with it.

The bag of ice slipped onto the floor as I quickly sat up and read over her message once more. I couldn’t help but to stand up and pace the floor. Shit. Now I really have to ball out.

I’m glad to hear that and you’re welcome. See you then. 

Wait, how the fuck are we going to see one another? That’s the part that I’ve yet to figure out. I need to do that quickly.

Rest up that ankle, Beckham. Enjoy your weekend.

We’re riding by chartered bus out to Philly since it’s only about two hours out from East Rutherford and we’ll return the same way. Maybe I could invite her out to dinner after the fact? Nothing fancy, just somewhere cool. Maybe it does need to be fancy? I’m not sure if I should say date, because she’d never go out on a date with me in the first place. I can just call it us grabbing some food. Then again, I did say that there’s going to be food at the stadium so she might be full. Shit.

“O! Sweetie, are you here?”

My mother’s light voice filled the foyer as she closed the door behind herself and I could tear the tussling of bags as she further her way inside of the house. She’s now in the middle of the second week of her two weeks stay and should be heading back to Louisiana after the Eagles game. We’ve had a few conversations about both she, my step-pops, and my little sister potentially relocating up here but we’ve summed it up to it not being necessary. They visit enough and I visit home enough, so there’s no need to leave all that they know on my behalf though I’m honored that they would do it in a heartbeat. Her check ins to make sure all is running smoothly on the business side of things and that I’m physically and mentally alright are always appreciated. It’s the perfect balance of her being able to happily function within her motherhood while also allowing me to be an adult. Jazzy has school, so she couldn’t make the trip, but Thanksgiving is around the corner. I’m sure before the ending of November comes, she’ll get up here to hang out with me for a weekend.

“I am. I’m coming to help you.” I relieved her of the grocery bags that I’m sure are filled with far more healthier items that I typically ever eat. My junk cabinet is more impressive than what’s in the refrigerator. I can whip up an amazing bowl of chicken Ramen though. It’s my specialty. I even get fancy and put an egg in there from time to time. Then you throw some of that green shit on top. What is it? Basil? Cilantro? Whatever it is.

“What do you want for dinner? I figured I’d whip something up while I’m here. You’re going out right? When you get back, you’ll have something real to eat and won’t have to survive off of sour straws and Oreos.”

“Chili. You know I like it when you make it spicy too. Oh, and some cornbread with it. Can’t have chili without cornbread. I’m kicking it here by the way.”

“Chili is so much better than you saying gumbo, because Lord knows, if you did, I would have handed you a takeout menu and wished you the best.” Our laughter was nearly identical. I’m all for some southern comfort food, especially because I don’t get it much up here, but I’ll be fair. The next time she’s here, the gumbo is happening though.

“Nah, I have a taste for the chili.”

“I’ll make a big pot, that way you’ll have it to enjoy over the weekend. I’m going to make something on Sunday before heading to Philadelphia for the game. That way it’ll be out of the way and I won’t have to worry about doing anything before my flight Monday morning. I’ll make enough for you to have a decent amount of leftovers after you dig in on Sunday. How are you feeling? Are you ready?”

“I was born ready. I feel good. Rehab was good. The trainers said I’m in good shape, so I’m ready to play. You know I’ll always play and sometimes, that’s even with discomfort.”

“Which isn’t good, but I’m glad you’re feeling good now.” My mind transitioned through a thousand thoughts as my stomach did backflips in the midst of my contemplating if I should tell her about the invitation to Sarai or not. It’s not like I have much of a choice. They’re going to encounter and be near one another. I could never play it off as a mere coincidence after the fact. Shit, Ben won’t let me either way.

“I invited Sarai Nazaire to the game.” And just like that, both of her eyebrows flew up in surprise and her elbows met the surface of the island as she leaned in to get a good look at me. Her face held a mixture of amusement and warmth. The hue of her skin slightly picked up a faint pink shade once a chuckle spilled from her lips.

“Did you? So that’s why you visited her dressing room after the interview? I thought those tickets were for some sort of an ESPN fan giveaway or something of that nature.”

“No, they were for her. I figured I’d invite her simply as a thank you.”

“Is that all it is?” She folded her hands as those eyebrows flew up yet again. “Just a thank you?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why are you so nervous? You know, I’ve been waiting for a moment like this. Ever since you were a kid, you always played it super cool when it came to the girls. Even the little girlfriends that I met here and there, you kept cool about. Sarai Nazaire? Her name rolls off of your tongue like she’s a goddess. Your eyes literally just lit up at the sound of it. Oh my God.” Her laughter intensified my nervousness and I instantly ran my hand down my face to gain some sort of control over my expressions.

“No, they didn’t.”

“Yes, they did. You have it bad, son. You have a love jones for Sarai, huh?”

“A love jones? What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not in love.”

“I never said that you were. I said a love jones. Watch the movie.” 

“I just think she’s cool momma. I can’t think that?”

“Cool? Jazzy and I think she’s cool, but you, not so much. You think she’s far more than that.”

“Are you going to tease me the entire time I’m standing here? I just wanted to let you know so it won’t be a surprise or anything. Maybe you can make sure she’s cool and stuff? You know, with the accommodations. She may bring a guest.”

“I can do that. Is there anything else you may want me to do or say?” Her mocking tone was my cue to go. She can have those moments when she says little things to playfully embarrass me but she can’t do it on Sunday. If God is on my side, she won’t do it.

“Momma.”

“Okay, okay, okay. I’ll be on my best behavior. As a reflection of my oh so amazing son, I’ll make sure your guest is well taken care of. I mean, after all, I need to make a good impression on her too since she’s going to be around.”

“Who said all of that?” See? That’s what I mean. She’s assuming.

“Your actions.”

“It’s just an invitation of thanks.”

“You already said thank you. You told her that you want to make her proud directly to her face. That’s another thank you. The jersey? A third thank you. The game? A move to begin to court her.”

“You’ll call me when the chili is ready? Cool? Aight, Cool.”

What is with mothers and the third eye situation? I’m a momma’s boy to the core. The sacrifices my mother made to make sure that I was solid in life will never go without every aspect of thanks that I can give her, but in the midst of that, we’ve become like best friends and it’s allowed her to know and be able to read me too well. I can’t slip anything past her no matter how hard I try to. She figures shit out without even being here and a phone call immediately follows; sometimes it’s a flight. Her warnings about women have never come with a leash, because she’s always told me that it’s my life to live but it doesn’t mean that she won’t inform me about whether someone is bad news for me or not. We’ve had our fair share of conversations about particular women, especially over the course of this past summer but even then, I didn’t feel so exposed as I do now. Maybe because there wasn’t anything to expose, at least not emotionally.

I chose to relax in the theater room while awaiting the chili and after scrolling through Netflix and then eventually Amazon Prime Video, I gave in to the curiosity I’d been fighting and decided to check out this Love Jones movie momma mentioned. Given that Larenz Tate and Nia Long are pure talent within their craft, I figured it couldn’t be too bad of a watch despite me not being much of a romance film guy. Putting the love, sex, and romance aspect aside, which is all throughout the film, the most interesting and relative part about the film may have to be the reality of two young people trying to figure out themselves and their journey because I, for sure, am in that place within my own life. I may have the career side of things secured, though it comes with its ups and downs, but as far as everything else? I’m just coasting, fucking up occasionally, and learning as I navigate along. There are aspects of Darius within me and every other young man out here.

“Oh, I see you decided to check it out. How are you liking it?” My attention left Nina’s poem and I shrugged.

“It’s decent.” That’s all I can give it but I’m sure women love the hell out of this film.

“Mhm. The chili’s cooking. I just popped the cornbread in the oven. When it’s ready, I’ll serve you.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite person ever?”

“Only about a million times and especially when you’re trying to bribe me out of something. Enjoy your movie.”

A happy ending after a roller coaster ride of mixed emotions, complications, and setbacks. I guess it makes sense, given if it’s what you really want. If you walk away, did you really want it in the first place? That’s subjective, but in the case of Darius and Nina, the question stands. I guess their love really was “urgent as a motherfucker”.

What are you doing?

I pulled my lip in-between my teeth and internally cringed at the message I sent to Sarai. Since when are we so casual? I hate that I had to do it. I should have never watched that movie in the first place.

Her reply came my way twenty minutes later. Maybe she’s busy.

Beckham. Lol My life is not that interesting. I doubt you’d want to know.

But you’re the most intriguing human on the planet. How don’t you know it?

Try me.

Maybe she’s with her man and I’m interrupting. I pray she doesn’t say that. I’d rather not know.

In bed, watching Remember the Titans with a jar of Talenti gelato. It’s the beginning of a weekend that will consist of exactly what I’m doing. See? Uninteresting. What club are you heading to tonight? 1oak? Marquee? Lavo?

Hm. She thinks I party a lot. I can’t deny how much I hang out during the off season. L.A. is usually my playground.

Club home theater. I’m chilling with my dogs and scrolling through a couple of apps for movies or a good TV show to binge. Momma making chili for dinner. Just finished Love Jones.

Maybe I’ll check out that Game of Thrones shit that everyone loves. Actually, nah. I’m going to catch up on Power.

You? You watched Love Jones? I’m uh..shocked? lol

Shit, me too.

Momma suggested it. It was a good watch, I guess. Remember the Titans is a better one. We Are Marshall is another good football film. Check it out if you haven’t seen it. What’s your favorite Love Jones quote?

Fuck, I’m corny. I couldn’t help but to laugh at myself after asking that.

My favorite quote? Hmm. I guess it would be: “It’s funny what you can do in front of a room full of people that you can’t even seem to do in front of one person.” That one has always stuck with me. Goodnight Beckham.

I almost tossed my phone into the seat beside me but I couldn’t fight the urge yet again.

You didn’t ask for my favorite quote.

Not necessary and yet, necessary.

And that is?

Only three lines within the film really stuck with me. Out of the three, one seemed to resonate the most.

“One truism in my life, my friend, when that jones come down, it be a motherfucker.” Goodnight Sarai Nazaire.

A motherfucker for sure.

#fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #odell beckham jr fanfic #odell beckham fanfic

[savannacentralperk]

Partner

A/N: Thank you to kt_valmiri for editing and ScaraMedn and Cimar-WildeHopps for beta reading.

The following isn't a real chapter of The Perks, just an extra bit I've been working on for a while. Hope you enjoy! And thanks for reading.

………..

Judy sat on her bed with her laptop open, mind numbingly bored. She had been looking up random things on the internet and was rapidly running out of ideas. Gideon was busy with a family event, her brothers and sisters in Bunnyburrow wouldn’t stop talking if she messaged them, and Nick’s last text said he was going to take a nap. So now, she was bored.

With a sigh she picked up her phone and unlocked it. Going to the pictures, they were flicked through, though she paused at one from the party last Saturday. Nick’s eyes were on her though the rest of him was pointed to the camera, she smiled at the admittedly great picture of the pair of them.

And that’s when it came to her.

Waking her laptop up, she went to the search bar and typed in her new objective. Matthew Wilde.

Her eyes flicked over the search results, the first being the photo of a handsome todd in his police blues. His hat fitted over his ears, two familiar green eyes stared back at her as a small, smug smile graced his muzzle. Though his fur was a deeper shade of red, he was very obviously Nick’s father.

Clicking on a link, her heart slammed into her chest as a larger copy of the photo graced the page.

‘Zootopia lays its first fox officer, Matthew Clayton Wilde, to rest today at Shady Grove Cemetery. The eight-year veteran officer lost his life after a run in with a supposed ‘savage’ jaguar, an incident witnessed only by Officer Wilde’s partner, Officer Duke Weaselton. There have been no confirmations on the validity of the story and the ‘savage’ jaguar remains at large.

'Officer Matthew Wilde was 40 and leaves behind his wife, Vivian Joan Wilde, and their three kits, Skye Abigail, 20, Gregory Matthew, 14, and Nicholas Piberious, 10.’

A feeling of coldness seeped into her as Judy scrolled to the bottom of the page.

There, in grainy color, was the Wilde family. Skye was the spitting image of their mother, who had her and another todd wrapped in her arms. A younger Nick dangled off his father’s neck as Matthew laughed into the camera, one paw around his wife, while the other rested on the arm of his young son. The bright smiles on their faces made the article that much harder to absorb.

Clicking back and selecting another, Judy felt her curiosity grow.

‘Top of the class, Zootopia’s Precinct One welcomes its first fox and weasel cops. Graduating with honors, newly badged officers Matthew Wilde, fox, and Duke Weaselton, weasel, join their brothers and sisters in blue on Monday. The controversial decision stemmed from the long-debated Mammal Inclusion Initiative, a move many have deemed to be a step towards the future, while others argue it could pave the way for future corruption within the departments.

‘Both officers have been long time volunteers with the ZPD, ranging from community outreach to organizing fundraisers for fallen and retiring officers. Widely recognized within Zootopia for their support of the MII, there is much credit due to the pair for getting it passed.

‘In response to the bill passing and the two new officers, the mayor’s office issued the following statement: “Police violence with under-represented communities are at an all-time high. If we, as a city, are to carry the quote ‘Anyone can be anything’, we must be prepared to live by it. We at City Hall have every bit of confidence Officers Wilde and Weaselton will be what this city needs to tip the scale closer towards equality and open the door further for those who dare to dream big.”’

Officer Weaselton… Duke Weaselton.

Paws flew across the keyboard. Another link, another click.

‘First weasel officer Duke Weaselton announces his retirement from the Zootopia Police Department. The announcement follows several complaints of conduct unbecoming and unnecessary force, towards the officer in question, along with accusations of Weaselton being intoxicated on the job. These incidents are theorized to stem from ‘Survivor’s Guilt’, says behavioral expert Martha Clawson.

‘“Officer Weaselton has been a model cop and citizen before the untimely demise of his friend and partner Officer Wilde,” explains the serval. “And it’s common in situations like theirs that the surviving parties act out of resentment towards the fact the they are alive. The decision for Officer Weaselton to leave the force is a wise one at this time.”

‘Before their graduation from the Zootopia Police Academy, Officers Weaselton and Wilde had been friends since they were young kits. While Wilde’s untimely demise at the claws of Mr. Renato Manchas while he was savage, rocked this fair city to its core, those who knew him best will find it the hardest to move on. As we as a city move past the tragic events of the Night Howler Epidemic, let us not forget those who were directly affected by it.

‘And to Officer Duke Weaselton, good luck.’

Shaking her head to clear the depressing fog that clouded it, Judy clicked back again and searched for Renato Manchas.

‘Savage Jaguar Found Alive, Along With Several Other Missing Predators.’

‘Re-call of Natural Garden Pesticide.’

‘Active Ingredient, Midnicampum Holicithias (Night Howlers) Found to be Cause of Savage Outbreaks Around Zootopia.’

‘Renato Manchas, the ‘Savage Jaguar’, Admitted into Rainforest Psychiatric Hospital.’

Unable to read anymore, the bunny exited out of the search page and closed her laptop. Setting it aside, she laid back and thought about what she’d read. She knew exactly what pesticide was re-called, the creator of which having been a long-time family friend. The recipe was sold to a big manufacturer and the ewe and her family took their new fortune and left Bunnyburrow.

Some farms, including her parents’, still used the flowers to keep bugs away. Though everyone gave them a wide berth. Now, knowing that someone she was having serious feelings for had lost someone he loved because of them, made a sharp pang of resentment and distain fill the pit of her stomach.

Closing her eyes, she thought of how devastated she, Jack, and the rest of her family would be if the same happened to her own father. And such a thought spawned a question…

What was Matthew Wilde like? ………….

TWENTY YEARS AGO

“Ok! So I’m picking up black beans, canned tomatoes-”

“Diced! They need to be unseasoned, DICED canned tomatoes.”

“Right, right… Tomatoes, chili powder, garlic, and, my secret ingredient… Sweet potatoes!” The todd chuckled into the phone at the groan of disapproval on the other end of the line. “What? They’re good for you. And need I remind you, my friend, you’ve declared this chili to be the best thing you’ve ever eaten?”

“Yeah, yeah, up until you remind me that you put sweet potato in it.”

“Duke, you can’t survive off those frozen bug patties. You need actual, healthy protein, not that over processed garbage.” He shook his head as he leaned against the pay phone box.

He could practically see the weasel neurotically double checking that he had everything for the pot luck the next day. His friend had run himself ragged making sure he was prepared to make a good impression on the new group they joined. Because this group could make or break whether you would get into the Zootopia Police Academy. It had been Duke’s dream to be a cop ever since he was a kitten. With debates about the Mammal Inclusion Initiative raging around them, Duke needed all the help he could get.

So, as the weasel’s self-appointed emotional guardian, Matthew Wilde was bound and determined to make sure tomorrow went as planned. And that’s why he wrote the list of everything that he needed for his famous sweet potato chili.

“Yeah, yeah.” Duke grumbled on the other line. “…What if they don’t like me?”

With a snort of laughter, Matt rolled his eyes. “Then they’ll be perfectly normal mammals who can go fuck themselves. Just don’t…you know… Weaselton it up.”

“Did you just verb me?”

“Yeah, Duke, I did. Listen, I gotta go get this stuff. But I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon in Savanna Central Park. Just try not to stress and get some sleep.” With another grin at the grumbled response, the todd hung up and headed towards the grocery store.

Breathing in the scent of fresh produce and air conditioning (a welcomed respite from the scorching Sahara District outside), a medium sized cart was snagged as Matt pulled the list from his pocket again.

“Onions…” weighed and tossed in. “Sweet potatoes…” Added. “Salad stuff.” Bagged and tossed to the cart.

“Hey, Vivian, can you put this back before you clock out?” The sudden shout had him raising his head in curiosity, only to do a double take at who was being called.

Glossy white fur, most of which was hidden by an unattractive black work shirt and apron, and two bright blue eyes looked to the speaker before paws lifted to catch what was tossed to her. Turning to put the box on its display without so much as a glance in his direction, she pulled the apron ties free as she carried on her way.

“I’m out, Jeff! Skye and I are going to get some shopping done first, but you’re S.O.L. if you need me for the next couple of days!” she called to the capybara still working.

“Big plans?” he asked with a smile.

“Just studying. I have a test coming up and if I pass, I’ll be able to get into the advanced nursing program!”

“Good luck!”

Just as suddenly as she’d appeared, she vanished. And Matt had to give his head a shake to clear the sudden fog that filled his mind. With another glance to where she had been, he refocused his attention back to his task. The list had the todd’s weekly shopping added to it, so with a slight sigh he made his rounds, each item checked off as he went, his eyes scanning for a glimpse of Vivian. But, unfortunately, with no luck.

Once his cart was full, he made the trip to the register, only to catch sight of the cereal aisle. He was a healthy eater, especially since he had been training to get into the Academy. Having never been a huge fan of junk food, the fox found one indulgence he couldn’t get enough of: Lucky Chomps.

And there was a sale.

Debating, he gave a glance at the healthy stuff in his cart, before he gave in and steered into the aisle. Setting the cart off to the side, Matt eyed the wall devoted to his vice and grinned. Two boxes were selected, the fox still grinning as he turned back to the cart. Only to be scared within an inch of his life by a high-pitched shriek.

Eyes wide, boxes falling to the ground, he looked at the source of the sound in terror.

“AHHHHH!” protested a small white vixen from her place in the cart seat. Her little body was half draped over the bar as her tiny paws reached for the box of cereal that had fallen. Giving up, she fell back onto her seat as her face crumpled. Without thinking, Matt rushed forward and scooped the box up, giving it a shake to distract the little kit from what sure to be a very loud wail of despair.

“No, no!” he reasoned. “Don’t do that! See, I got it for you. Look!”

He smiled as the vixen’s tear stained face lit up as paws reached for the box. And his heart was effectively melted when she hugged the huge item and smiled back.

“Tank too,” she said in a quiet voice.

“There you go! See?” He took a step closer. “Smiles are so much better than tears. And what’s your name, beautiful?”

With another shy smile, she buried her face in the box and giggled, peeking out at him.

“Can I help you?” A familiar voice spoke up.

Matt felt his entire body heat up as his ears perked towards Vivian, apron long gone, standing with her arms folded in front of the kit now babbling to herself.

“Uh, I- Uh… the box...uh… It was dropped…and…uh…Well, you know…” If he could hang himself, he would have. The most beautiful vixen he had ever met in his entire life was talking to him and he couldn’t even form a coherent sentence.

“No,” she responded, her eyes cold as she watched him. “I don’t know.”

“Hehe, yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Strange todd, trying to talk your little sister… Doesn’t look very good at all, does it?”

“Daughter.” Matt’s eyes widened. Turning to look at the little vixen now trying to look around her mother at him, Vivian noted the box was slightly squished from its fall. Giving him a final look, she turned to grasp the handle of the cart. “Time to go bye-bye, Skye. Let’s get home.”

“Buh-bye,” Skye said with a little wave at him.

“Bye.” he said back, watching as Vivian maneuvered her cart around and headed to the registers. A paw shot out to grab it before he could stop himself. “Matthew.”

Looking from his paw to his eyes, Vivian furrowed her brow.

“I’m Matthew Wilde. Or Matt, either one is good, really. And it was a pleasure meeting you both.”

“Oh,” she gave a slightly strained smile as her cheeks turned pink. “Thanks.”

He let go and watched as she passed, breathing deep to hold in her scent. She gave a look over her shoulder, before focusing forward and speeding up her walk. Skye gave a laugh of delight at the pace before they vanished around the corner. And Matt was thrown.

Tail wagging behind him, he inhaled again and smiled. She wasn’t marked. Which meant she was available. Odd and uncommon for a todd to leave a gorgeous vixen like that, especially if they had a kit together. Matt ruled out being a widow - most foxes substituting a ring for a scent mark, showing interested parties they weren’t ready to move on.

Matthew Wilde was a smart mammal. Though some of his life choices were dubious, he knew a dumb move when he saw one. And letting her just walk out of his life without trying would be the dumbest move of all. Eyes flicking to his own cereal on the ground, he decided to use what he knew about her to his advantage. …………

Duke let out frustrated sigh as the fridge door slammed closed. The other mammals around the poker table looked up from their cards in curiosity. “I forgot more beer.” Looking at the selection of chips on his counter, he shook his head.

“And salsa. I gotta go-”

“Just that? Do you need anything else? Anything at all?” Matt had scrambled up, his cards haphazardly tossed onto the table as he stumbled to where his jacket was. “Cause I’ll get it! Totally, guys, you need it, Matt Wilde is on it!”

Everyone watched with open mouths as the todd disappeared through the front door. …………

Vivian stood at her register, flipping through her school notes, when a familiar smell reached her. Withholding a sigh, she put a smile on her face that actually felt genuine and looked up to see the eagerly grinning Matt Wilde in front of her. Her heart gave a familiar flutter that only ever happened when she saw him. But the last time she trusted the butterflies in her stomach, she became a single mom.

“Mr. Wilde,” she greeted, noting how his fur puffed out in pleasure when she acknowledged him. “What a surprise to see you here. I haven’t seen you since this morning, when you came in six times, claiming you kept buying the wrong flowers.”

“A silly mistake to make, isn’t it? I’m just so happy you were able to provide a good home for them,” he said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the counter. “Miss me since then?”

“You don’t give me enough time to miss you, Wilde.” She smirked as she scanned his stuff.

“Why would I want to be so cruel?” he asked with a grin, enjoying the way her ears flushed.

She looked down at what she was scanning and smiled sadly. “Look, Matt. You seem nice. You really do.” Matthew felt his heart sink as she raised her eyes back to his. “But I’m a full-time student. And a full-time mom, trying to make sure her kit has what she needs to be healthy and happy while working a full-time job. I’m sorry, but I don’t have time for a relationship. Especially a casual one.” Looking to her register, a claw tapped a button to bring up his total. “Sixteen seventy.”

Passing her a bill, the todd tightened his grip on it to get her attention.

“What if I wasn’t looking for causal? What if I wanted something more?’

“Then you’re going to have to find it somewhere else,” Vivian replied, tugging the money from him. “Good looking todd like you should have vixens crawling all over him.” She smiled again as he accepted his change and his bags.

Matthew nodded his head with a thoughtful expression on his face. Suddenly he smiled and straightened up, looking her in the eyes.

“Guess I’ll have to try harder then.” And with a wink, he strolled away, leaving Vivian flabbergasted, annoyed, and, if she was honest with herself, incredibly excited. But mostly annoyed. A little… Maybe…

“That wasn’t code to try harder!” she called after him.

He simply turned to walk backwards as he shouted back, “You make it sound like you’re not worth the effort.” Grinning, he turned again and walked through the sliding doors.

The vixen looked at where he had vanished and chewed her lip. Tension pulled in her belly as she realized Matthew Wilde wasn’t going to give up. It was a thought that simultaneously made her joyful and anxious. She couldn’t put her faith in him, not when she had Skye depending on her for everything. When he inevitably broke her heart, her daughter would suffer, too.

“That’s the guy who keeps on bothering you that you ain’t interested in?” came the voice of her co-worker Rhonda.

Sighing, Vivian nodded and looked at the coyote, who gave her a look of exasperation. “And what part of him ain’t you seein’?”

“It’s not about looks.” She rubbed her paws on her face before leaving the register, Rhonda close behind her. “I know his type. I dated his type and his type took off when I needed him the most.” Both females took carts full of returns and steered them to the aisles. “I’m not going to fall for that again.”

Rhonda scoffed as she paused in front of a shelf and began to put groceries away.

“Honey, I think his type is just what you need. Roger only noticed you when you were in front of him. You had to go to him and he never came to you. Even before Skye, he was never there for you. That todd has been in this store fifteen times in the last week and will wait until he sees you working before he starts his shopping. I went over the numbers and he spent nearly two hundred dollars on sunflowers alone, and he gave them all to you.” She smiled as Vivian blushed. “And need I mention the notes he’s been leaving?”

Vivian paused with her paw on a can, eyes on it without seeing as it was pushed into its spot on the shelf.

“How did that poem go?” Rhonda asked with a sly smile over her shoulder.

The vixen’s ears went red. “Mind your own business,” she muttered.

“Just sayin’, sugah,” Rhonda laughed. “If you don’t want him, send him my way. I will gladly dye my fur for a chance at him lookin’ at me the way he looks at you.”

Vivian froze at that. Closing her eyes, she cleared her head of any thoughts about him, before opening them again and continuing her work. A relationship with him could only end in tears. ………..

“Why the hell are we doing this, Wilde?”

The todd was draped over a mailbox, gasping for breath as their group ran past him. A few of the larger mammals looked close to fainting, many having done exactly what he was doing earlier. Feeling like he was dying, Matt pulled his head up high enough to look over at Duke.

“We’re doing this because you don’t when to quit, Weaselton!” he managed to counter, watching his friend fight to try to pull himself together.

“You seriously need to stop listening to me.”

“I try. You just talk louder.” Duke gave a breathless laugh and looked over at the fox. And his eyebrows crinkled in confusion at the sight of him.

Matthew Wilde was still leaning against the mailbox. But now his head was perked up, eyes focused on something across the street. Following his gaze, Duke’s eyes widened at the sight of pretty vixen hanging out the window of an apartment. Her paws held up a tiny kit who clutched at a watering can, its contents being poured over the small flower garden on the ledge.

And Matthew was enraptured. His tail wagged behind him, eyes full of stars as a smile softened his muzzle. The weasel gave him a bemused expression before looking over at the vixen and kit again.

“She’s pretty,” he said.

“They’re both beautiful.”

“Shame she’s taken.” Feeling as refreshed as he was going to get, Duke nudged him. The pair across the street giggled together before disappearing into the apartment.

“She isn’t.” Duke gave him a startled look.

“I thought you foxes were lifers.”

“There are exceptions to every rule.” Matthew explained as they began running again. “I smelled her the first time I ever met her. She’s not taken and no ring means she’s not widowed. She’s single, with the sweetest little kit in the world. All I have to do is convince her to take a chance on me.”

“Wow!” laughed Duke as they caught up with the rest of the group. “You’re screwed.”

He gave a glance to the todd who looked apprehensive. With an eye roll, Duke shook his head. “You’ll be fine.” Matthew’s head snapped to him. The weasel studiously kept his gaze on the path in front of them. “You’re a good looking, intelligent, ambitious young todd and any vixen would be lucky to have you.”

Matt’s shoulders squared a bit as he soaked in his friend’s words of praise. “Now I just have to figure out how to win her over.”

“True. I mean it’s not like you can serenade her outside her window like Romeo or whatever.”

And with that comment, Matthew’s face lit up.

“Hey Duke? Do you still have that old acoustic?”

“Uh…yeah…”

“Can I borrow it?”

I gotta learn when to shut up, Duke thought with sigh. …………………..

Vivian laughed as Skye held up a pawful of spaghetti to her mother, who pretended to gobble it up. The little vixen shrieked with laughter at her mother’s antics, before she was pulled from her spot and brought to the sink to wash up.

“You got more sauce in your fur than in your mouth, baby.” Vivian grinned as she soaked a washcloth and began to clean off her daughter.

Skye babbled to herself as she was cleaned up, her mother occasionally smiling and nodding at her words. Yet, Vivian’s thoughts were preoccupied with someone else… Someone with deep red fur and green eyes.

The thoughts she was having were pleasurable. With those paws and that scent, she was counting the seconds until she could put her daughter to bed so she could enjoy those fantasies in her bed. She may never act on her urges, but as soon as she was alone for the night, Matthew Wilde would have his way with her. As he had every night since she had met him.

“Mama?” came the most precious voice she ever heard.

“Sorry, baby. Mama’s mind was somewhere else.”

“No, Mama. Listen!” A tiny paw pointed to window.

Confused, Vivian followed her gestures, now aware of the music faintly drifting from the window.

“Hello… I’ve waited here for you. Ever long…”

Skye hopped down from the counter and ran towards it, Vivian close behind her. Popping her head out, she looked down to see Matthew in the alley, guitar slung around his neck. Green eyes were focused on hers, widening as she met his. A light tug at her shirt had her lifting Skye up to see the impromptu show. And the fact that Matthew’s eyes softened further at the sight of the little vixen made any hesitance she had felt before crumble away.

“And I wonder… When I sing along with you… If everything could ever feel this real forever If anything could ever be this good again The only thing I’ll ever ask of you, you gotta promise not to stop when I say when…”

Vivian smiled at the todd serenading them. Pulling Skye further into her arms, the vixen smiled down at him, deciding right then and there that tonight wasn’t going to be just her normal fantasies.

Tonight was going to be the real deal. …………….

“Okay, sweetheart,” Matthew was kneeled in front of Skye, fixing the bow in her fur and brushing out her dress. “Do you remember what you’re going to say?”

With an excited nod, she grinned up at him. “Mommy! Maddy has a big sup’ise for you!”

Laughing, he scooped her up and planted a big kiss into her neck. “That’s my vixen!” Skye laughed and squirmed as Matthew covered her in kisses.

It had been over three months since Matthew had managed to win Vivian over. And it was better than anything he could have hoped for. Skye was as precious to him as if she were his own kit and her mother every bit the vixen of his dreams. And once he realized she wanted to be a nurse, he dropped everything to make sure she achieved that dream.

Without complaint, he made sure Skye was taken care of and Vivian came home to a clean house and hot meal, her daughter happily distracted from her hardworking mother’s absence. And in turn, Vivian made sure that he had the ability to train for the police academy whenever possible.

And while Duke was jealous of his best friend’s new life, he found himself charmed by the vixen and her daughter. He was invited over for dinner almost every other night and the weasel realized there were worse things in life than being Uncle Dukey, as Skye called him. Not to mention Vivian was a staunch supporter of the Mammal Inclusion Initiative. Which would help him and Matty get into the Zootopia Police Academy.

Both mammals had been turned away due to their species but, when the MII passed, that would change. For now, they would work the menial jobs they could find to make ends meet. Even if it took years.

But that day was far off.

It had been nine months since Matthew had met Vivian. And that entire time, he knew she was his one and only. She had his heart and all that it was. Vivian was his first and he every intention on making her his last.

So, with a simple meal on the table, along with some candles and soft music, Matthew was going to ask the most important question of his life.

The sound of a key in the door had both foxes freezing and looking over to it. Setting Skye down, the todd straightened out his suit and gave the kit a final look over. She bounced with excitement as the door opened revealing an exhausted Vivian weighed down with books.

“Mommy!” Her blues eyes lit up as the little vixen ran towards her and leaped into her arms, allowing her school work to fall to the floor.

“Hi sweetheart.” Burying her muzzle into her fur, Vivian looked up and smiled at her boyfriend, who waited patiently for his turn. Setting her down, she gave him an appreciative growl. “You clean up nicely, I must say, Mr. Wilde.”

His heart hammered in his chest as he stepped towards her, excited at having her so close to him.

“And you, Miss Drift, are a sight for very sore eyes.” To his delight, she easily gave into his embrace, letting her arms encircle his neck as he lowered his muzzle to kiss her lips. They let themselves enjoy the moment before Skye refused to be ignored anymore.

“Mama! Mama! MA-MA!” Laughing, they broke apart and looked down at her.

“Maddy has a sup’ise for you!”

“Does he now?” she asked looking back to Matthew.

The todd smiled and shrugged. A soft knock on the door had everyone turning, though Matt still kept his smile. Checking his watch, he gave a nod of approval.

“Right on time!”

“Uncle Dukey!” Skye raced to the door and jumped for the knob, swinging it open to find Duke grinning down at her.

“Hey, my little snow flake!” Bending down, he accepted an excited hug, before looking up at the couple. “Is she all ready?”

Matt grinned and nodded, walking to the couch to grab Skye’s overnight bag and stuffed bear. “She’s ready to spend time with her favorite uncle.”

“Wait, wait!” protested Vivian. “What’s all this? When was this decided?”

Duke grinned and accepted the bag as Matt turned back to her. “It’s all part of the surprise.”

“But I didn’t agree to Skye leaving for the night,” she countered, crossing her arms and tapping her foot. Matt pulled her into his arms, a paw going to bring her gaze to him. Her mouth opened again but the words died when a gentle kiss was pressed to her lips.

“Trust me,” he whispered, pulling away. “I will never do anything to put her in any sort of danger or leave her with anyone I thought was going to harm her.”

Vivian was silent for a moment before nodding her head. Skye was given a tight hug and kiss and Duke was issued two warnings, one from her and one from the todd. The vixen worried her lip as the door closed, causing a smile to curl on Matt’s muzzle.

“Now,” he began, picking up a remote. “Where were we?”

The stereo came to life, the opening chords to their song starting. She smiled shyly as he set the remote aside and extend a paw. Drawing her into his arms, they held each other’s gaze as they slowly danced to the music.

“You played this for me outside my window,” Vivian whispered as she wrapped an arm around his neck. Her nose buried into his fur as a laugh rumbled his chest.

“I played it for you and Skye,” he responded nuzzling the top of her head. “I needed to do something to get your attention.”

“I’m glad you realized we’re a package deal.”

“And you two are worth everything.” She smiled into his shoulder and pulled away in curiosity when she felt him tense. He met her gaze, green eyes filled with nerves. “Vivi, these last few months have been the greatest of my life. And just when I think I can’t love you two more… I find myself falling further and harder.”

Their dance had paused as Vivian pulled away gently, her heart hammering in her chest as Matt’s paw went to his pocket.

“Oh, my gods…” she whispered as he pulled out a small black box and lowered himself onto a knee in front of her.

“Vivian Drift,” he said in a slightly choked voice. “You and Skye are my world. I’m in love with everything about you and there’s nothing that would make me happier than helping you raise your beautiful little vixen. I don’t have much to offer you, and I know I spend a lot of time training for the academy and trying to get the MII passed, but I’d give it all up for you.”

A small gasp escaped her when he opened the box to show off the tasteful diamond ring inside.

“Will you marry-”

“Yes! YES, yes, yes, yes!” Laughing and crying, she tackled him to the floor, causing him to drop the ring box.

High off her answer, Matt wrapped himself around her, muzzles pressed together, separating only to reaffirm her answer and declare their love for one another. Their clothes were discarded, the meal on the table forgotten, and the rest of the night was passed with them joined as one.

It took no time to plan the wedding. Both had scant amounts of family, Vivian inviting her elderly aunt and Matt having only a couple cousins who were rarely in Zootopia. So, it was decided that they would exchange vows in city hall, with Duke beside Matt and Rhonda holding Skye. Afterwards, they enjoyed a quiet lunch before Duke took the kit for the night, leaving the newly wedded couple to enjoy their first night as husband and wife.

And Vivian felt as though the last few years before meeting Matt were a bad dream. Skye was a welcomed respite, but the vixen had always felt as though she was drowning… Until Matthew Wilde came along.

He worked over time to make sure she was able to go to school and graduate, her grades guaranteeing her a position as a nurse anywhere in the city. Without fail, he made sure his vixens knew they were loved and valued. They returned the favor by marching with him and Duke after both males were once again rejected by the ZPA. Vivian helped him keep in shape while Skye was his most vocal cheerleader. Never had Matt wanted anything more than to make them proud, a feeling that intensified when Vivian gave birth to their first son.

The four of them went to rallies to listen to the new candidate for mayor promise to pass the Mammal Inclusion Initiative. Skye and her little brother, Greg, clapped with their parents as the lion at the podium vowed to make it his priority. It came as no surprise when he was elected. Though Mayor Lionheart kept his word and fought tooth and claw, the MII was consistently shot down when it came to votes from council members.

“The mammals of our city know what they want,” he reasoned into the camera. “And they want this to become a law. They’re tired of being turned away from jobs they’re qualified for, because their teeth are too sharp or not sharp enough. They’re tired of the world thinking they’re only capable of what their species represents! This is Zootopia. They are Zootopia! This Mammal Inclusion Initiative is what the Zootopian dream is all about. Anyone can be anything.”

Matt and Vivian’s youngest son, Nick, was two when his father lifted him up with a large grin to hug him good-bye.

“Next time you see me,” he said to the little todd. “I’ll be an officer.”

“Bye-bye, Daddy,” was Nick’s response.

Vivian wrapped her arms around them both, slightly teary eyed at the thought of not seeing him for eight months.

“I’m going to call you guys every night,” he promised, using his free arm to keep her close and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And I’m going to be home before you know it.”

“I know,” Vivian agreed tearfully, nodding and pulling away. “But I’m still going to miss you. I’m so proud of you and I love you so much.”

Nick was set back down as his father turned his full attention to his mother.

Matt’s paws framed her face as he committed every detail to memory. “Gorgeous, you have no idea.” And with those words, a kiss was pressed to her lips, causing Skye to groan in disgust as she covered both of her brothers’ eyes.

Duke laughed at them before looking towards the bus being loaded with other recruits. “It’s time, lover todd! Let’s go be cops.”

Sighing, Matt and Vivian exchanged fresh marks, before he turned to embrace his children. Smiling at Skye, he kissed her nose. “Look after your mom and brothers for me, ok?”

“I will, Daddy,” she promised, hugging him again and giggling when he marked the top of her head. Greg and Nick received the same treatment, both todds waving their father and uncle good-bye.

But that was years ago.

Eight years ago, in fact. Duke and Matt were neck and neck the whole time they were in the academy, the fox ever so slightly ahead. Their drill sergeant, Major Friedkin, was amazed at the performance from the pair of them. Both were shattering records as though they were the first cadets to ever go to the Academy. So, it was no surprise that they landed spots at Precinct One as partners.

At first, being cops did not live up to all their expectations.

Their chief, a burly brown bear named Clyde Ursolo, had been frustrated with receiving the pair. Not wanting to put time or effort into them, they were put on parking duty. It was only after Duke ticketed a car filled with an obscene amount of drugs, did the chief finally take them seriously. They were given more and more responsibility, each making a name for themselves and earning the respect of their fellow officers.

Though they both noticed they were routinely passed up for promotions and raises. And while Chief Ursolo didn’t respond to their questioning, the lion that took his place, Chief Simba Pride, explained the truth of the matter.

“The requests keep getting denied by internal affairs.”

Matt and Duke exchanged looks before frowning at their boss.

“What do you mean, ‘keep getting denied’?” demanded Duke.

Pride sighed and gave them looks of both pity and frustration. “To put it bluntly, they don’t believe my reports about your performance. They feel they’re being exaggerated to validate the MII being passed.”

“It was passed nearly nine years ago!” shouted Matt.

“And it was the best thing for this city since the Subway.” Pride leaned forward to look at the pair of them sharing a seat on the opposite side of his desk. “And I don’t want either of you thinking for one moment I’m going to let this go. I’ve watched you two do more for the citizens of this city than any other officer, myself included. I promise I will get you both the promotions you deserve. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” both males mumbled. The lion smiled and gave a nod before leaning back in his seat.

“Now, in other news…” A large paw flicked through the notes on the case they were working on. “Nothing new in the Otterton case?”

“Actually, yes,” answered Duke. “We followed up with Vincent Big. The shrew says Emmit Otterton met up with him for a late lunch after visiting Mystic Spring Oasis. Witness’ say he was alive and healthy when they parted ways. Last mammal to see him was the limo driver, Renato Manches. He agreed to meet with us later tonight.”

“Excellent.” Pride beamed at them. “Hopefully we get closer to finding Otterton.

Though something tells me when we find him, we’ll find the other missing mammals.”

“Here’s hoping,” said Matt crossing his fingers and hopping down from the chair.

“Manches seemed nervous over the phone, though, so I’m curious to know what happened. Speaking of, I gotta call Vivian back. Let her know I’m going to be home late tonight.”

“Do that, then check in with the rookie.” Pride passed the file back to Duke and waved them off. “Bogo took the meter maid punishment pretty hard.”

All three laughed at that, remembering how the cape buffalo was fuming as he put the brightly colored vest on.

“Serves him right for ignoring orders.” Duke said, grinning as he followed his partner. “All he had to do is listen to me and he would be patrolling with Wolford.”

“Dumb bull.” Matt grinned and pulled out his phone. Selecting Vivian’s number, he wandered in the opposite direction as Duke headed to their cubicle.

“Hey, babe,” she greeted with a smile in her voice.

“Wow…”

“What?” Vivian’s tone became concerned at her husband’s response.

“Just hearing you makes my day so much brighter…”

His wife laughed on the other end of the line. “Oh, no. You only use cheesy lines like that when you’re going to be working late.” She sighed into the phone. “What’s keeping my handsome todd from his family tonight?”

“The Otterton case.” Guilt filled him as she hummed her understanding. “Our lead won’t be available until tonight, but I shouldn’t be later than eight thirty.”

“Ok, that’s not too bad. Skye said she was going to come over to study. Her roommate is still being obnoxious.”

“Thank gods she’s not going over to that…TODD’S place,” Matt exclaimed, rolling his eyes at his wife’s laughter.

“He has a name, Matt, and it’s Joseph. Besides, I think they broke up the other day.”

“Halleluja! That guy was a weirdo. Not nearly good enough for her!”

“Babe, you don’t think anyone is good enough for our daughter.”

“Not my fault she’s perfect.” He smirked as Vivian laughed again. “Are you still pulling the graveyard shift tonight?”

“Yup. But this is the last shift, then I’m back to my regular hours.”

“Yay! After this is all over, we’re going to send the kits to Rhonda’s and hide out for a few days. Just you and me, baby.” Matt growled seductively.

“Promises, promises.” A distant voice was heard on the other end of the line.

“That’s my cue, Matty. I love you and good luck.”

“I love you, too. Tell the kits I’ll bring home some pizza. Now go save some lives, Super Nurse!”

Vivian laughed again as they disconnected. Matt looked down at his phone and the picture on the screen. Nick hung off his neck as Vivian leaned into his arms, with Greg and Skye wrapped up in her own. The five of them beamed into the camera and the todd felt an odd sense of unease in his chest.

“Seven thirty, Wilde!” His partner’s voice cut through his thoughts, bringing his gaze to the weasel’s. “We gotta get these reports finished, then be at Manches’ place by seven thirty.”

Nodding, he put his phone in his back pocket. “Right. Where are we going, exactly?”

Duke looked down at the paper in his paw. “Vine and Tujunga.”

“Then let’s get to it, partner.” …………..

Duke couldn’t remember the last time he was so terrified. With Matthew just a steps in front of him, the pair ran for their lives across the rope bridge, the weasel’s paw fumbling for his radio. It was pulled clear of his belt just as his partner’s feet hit solid ground. Were it not for his hind claws getting caught on the wood slats of the bridge, Duke would still be right behind him.

As it was, the weasel stumbled and fell, the radio falling from his paws into the jungle below them. His partner’s voice requesting back up was drowned out by the fear of the sudden change in events.

Turning to the angry growl just behind him, Duke’s heart stopped at the sight of the snarling jaguar lunging for him. He frantically scrambled back across the dirt as his life flashed before his eyes. Only to have a red blur disrupt his view. His panicked brain registered Matt’s sharp tugging at the weasel’s uniform to pull him further out of the way and a loud yell to distract the cat as the todd leaped towards Manches’ head.

Upsetting his momentum when the fox made contact, Manches hit the street sign first, knocking it to the ground, before the cat rolled towards the edge. His claws frantically trying to find purchase in the soil to stop his inevitable fall, Matt landed hard in front of him. With a pained grunt the fox rolled away and the officers watched in horror as their lead fell, a loud snarl echoing through the now still canopy.

“What was wrong with him?” gasped Duke as he pushed himself up.

He looked to his partner when his question was only met with labored breathing. Matt was still kneeling upon the ground, a paw pressed to his side. Sounds of sirens filled the air as the world slowed down.

“Matt?” Pain filled green eyes looked up at him before looking down at the gushing wound the fox was trying to stem with a paw. “Matty! Hold on buddy, I gotcha.”

His other paw fumbled for the radio next to him as Duke rushed to his side.

“Duke, I-I c-can-n’t p-pr-ess the b-b-butt-on…” The weasel grabbed the radio and added his own paw to the wound as he pressed down on the radio and spoke.

“Officer Weaselton to dispatch! We have an officer down, repeat Officer Wilde is down and in need of medical assistance! Vine and Tujunga!” Releasing the radio, not even acknowledging the confirming response, Duke tried not to let Matt see the worry in his eyes.

His best friend was losing too much blood.

“D-du-ke…” Matt gasped as he fell back. “I-I c-can-n’t feel my f-feet…”

“Hey!” Duke said sharply gripping his free paw earnestly as the sound of sirens filled the air. “You’re going to be just fine. You hear me.”

Still gasping, the todd nodded weakly, his body starting to shiver violently. “L-l-look ou-out for t-th-them…” he muttered, eyes going wide as shock set in. Neither registered the sounds or motions of the paramedics racing to them. “T-t-tell them I l-love them…”

Duke kept a firm grip on his paw as Matt was loaded into the ambulance. The weasel felt his heart sink as his friend’s grip weakened and medics franticly radioed the hospital with their needs. And when the todd’s uniform was torn open and the AED put to his chest, his mind shut off and his body went numb.

And when it didn’t re-start his heart, Duke’s world came crashing down. ………..

Vivian walked down the quiet halls of Savanna General, her head down as her claws scratched behind her ears to sooth her headache. She was only five hours into her twelve-hour shift and she already wanted run away.

And it wasn’t the patients, either. It was the fact that it was too damn quiet!

“Ugg,” she groaned raising her head as she approached the nurses’ station. “Last day… Then you and your husband can spend the next few days in bed.”

Smiling at the thought of what Matty would do to her once they were alone, she glanced at the clock, noting it was almost eight forty-five.

“Matt should be done about now,” she said to herself as she reached into her pocket for her phone. Frowning at the lack notifications from him, she locked it and put it back.

“You okay, Vivi?” asked Marie, the giraffe seated behind the check in desk.

“Yeah, Matt just hasn’t called yet.”

Marie gave a nod of understanding and sympathy before looking out into the waiting room. Her eyes flicked to the tv before doing a double take.

“Uh, Viv?” her hoof grabbed the remote and cranked the volume up.

The vixen looked up at the screen, where a pretty snow leopard was standing outside of St. Orchid Hospital in the Rainforest District. “We’ve just received word that Zootopia’s first fox officer Matthew Wide is in critical condition. He was admitted into the hospital over an hour ago and there has been no update on his injuries.”

Marie turned to look at her friend only to see her dashing to their lockers for her purse. Lifting her phone to her ear, the giraffe let their boss know the vixen wasn’t going to be in for a while, her own eyes filling with tears as a stricken Vivian raced out the hospital towards St. Orchid. She turned back to tv just in time to see the banner change on the bottom of the screen.

‘Officer Matthew Wilde Confirmed Dead’ ……………

Chief Pride had not been in his position for very long. He knew it was going to be a tough job. Not just because of the politics involved, either. Those were expected, but the amount of resistance to the changes he was trying to implement was disheartening. Especially when he knew his officers deserved what he was fighting for.

And now, one of them was gone.

It was the fact that he was the chief of the best precinct in the city that kept his face stoic when the doctor confirmed the news. With Mrs. Wilde falling to pieces next to him and Officer Weaselton catatonic in the waiting room, the lion could only stare after the doctor as she left them to grieve. He turned his blank stare to the vixen, his body following hers as she fell to the ground sobbing.

“I’m so sorry…” he whispered, allowing a few tears to spill as he put a large paw on her back.

After a few minutes that felt like hours, Mrs. Wilde straightened up, her body still kneeling on the hospital floor. A passing nurse kneeled to give her a box of tissues, which she accepted without a word. Cleaning her face and blowing her nose, she looked down the hall to the room that held her husband.

“I have to go home,” she said more to herself than to him. “I have to tell the kits. I have to make…arrangements…”

Tears started to fall again as the reality of her situation set in.

“Let me know if there’s anything you need.” Pride said quietly. “The ZPD is there for you and your family. One hundred percent.”

Closing her eyes, Vivian patted his paw gratefully. “Thank you.”

Standing together, they turned to the waiting room, their eyes going to Officer Weaselton. He sat unblinking, in the same position he had been left in after a nurse had helped him from the ambulance. Were it not for the rise and fall of his chest, they would have thought him to be a statue.

“Duke?” called Mrs. Wilde. “Duke, honey?”

“Weaselton.” Pride followed her lead as she walked to him cautiously. But he gave them space when she kneeled in front of him and rested her paws on his own. Her touch had the weasel’s eyes moving to hers, though they held no emotion.

“I should have given up,” he said matter-of-factly. Mrs. Wilde’s brows wrinkled in confusion. “After we were denied the first time. I should have just given up. If I had given up, Matt would have, too. Then we would still be working odd jobs, broke but alive. I should have just given up.”

Nodding at his own statement, Weaselton went back to staring blankly at nothing. The vixen looked over at Chief Pride, fresh tears falling. Gulping, she stood again and walked to him.

“Keep an eye on him, okay? For Matty.”

“I will.” Giving him a watery thanks and Weaselton a final look of worry, she left.

Looking to his remaining officer, Pride took a seat next to him.

Simba Pride knew this wasn’t going to be an easy job. But knowing that didn’t make it hurt less. ……………….

“Five more minutes…” muttered the sleepy kit snuggled up against Skye. She smiled down at Nick, whose eyes were struggling to stay open to watch the movie on tv.

“I already gave you ten more minutes,” she argued playfully, moving her arm behind him to scoop his little form from the couch.

With another smile at his sleepy grumble, she carefully carried her brother to his room. Well, her old room. Though the walls had been painted from soft pink to blue when she went off to college. Laying him down carefully, she pulled the covers over him and placed a kiss on his head. Silently, she crept from his room and closed the door, leaving it open just a crack to keep the monster under his bed away.

The hall night light making a dent in the otherwise dark house, Skye peeked into the kitchen. She frowned at the time displayed on the stove and microwave. Dad should have been home hours ago.

“He’s probably filling out reports,” Greg said, answering her silent query. He lay on the floor next to the bowl of popcorn, munching as the monsters on the tv scared kits for energy.

Sighing as she flopped onto the couch again, she propped her head on her paw as she looked to the screen. “You’re probably right. He doesn’t know when to quit, does he?”

Not looking at her, Greg shook his head. “Nope.”

Moments later, the sound of keys had both of them perking up and looking to the door, ready to welcome home their father. Only to be confused when their mother entered the quiet apartment. Greg pushed himself up to a sitting position and looked over to Skye.

“Mom?” she asked with concern. “What are you doing home so early?”

Vivian looked from one to the other, her eyes red lined and tired looking. “We need to have a talk.”

Skye took in her mother’s expression, understanding hitting her when mother and daughter exchanged looks.

“No.”

They looked over at Greg, who was looking at Vivian in anger and resentment. His paws gripped the carpet, claws digging into the fibers as he fought the tears building in his blue eyes. Vivian’s own were falling freely as she stood in the doorway watching her son as he shook his head at her.

“No…no, no, no, no, no…”

It wasn’t until she stepped towards him that he moved, pushing himself up and away, storming towards his room and slamming the door close. Staring after him,

Vivian found herself rooted to the spot.

“Mama…” came Skye’s small, tear choked voice.

And without another word, she went to her daughter and held her tight, praying that she would close her eyes and wake up in her own bed, with Matthew next to her, like she had so many other nights before. ……….

There was nothing Nick wanted more than to be like his father.

Matthew Wilde was brave and determined. Always smiling and laughing, wherever they went, he was stopped by random mammals who wanted to shake his paw. In Nick’s eyes, there was no-one cooler than his dad.

So when his mom sat him down and explained to him that he was gone, Nick didn’t understand. Because Matthew Wilde was the first fox officer in Zootopia. He faced bad guys all day long, he knew how to fight, knew how to shoot a gun and work a taser, and was the fastest runner in the world. His dad was indestructible.

And he promised he would lead Nick’s Ranger Scout Troop on their annual camp out next weekend.

But reality was a bitter pill to take. And it nearly choked him when the time came to say good-bye. Standing in a small black suit next to his mother, the young todd wasn’t sure what emotion took precedence. Until he looked up and saw Duke standing opposite of them.

Anger. That’s what he felt. Bitter anger. Why should it be his father he had to say good-bye to? What was Duke doing while his father was dying? Why didn’t that savage jaguar take the weasel and leave his honest, good, hard working father alone?

Nick opened his eyes.

In the three years following Matthew’s death, he buried himself in school and trouble. He only worked for good grades to remind himself he wasn’t completely useless. Though other than having one less thing for Vivian to worry about, he didn’t know why he bothered most of the time. Summer time made the point moot, but still…

Not feeling rested at all, he looked over to his phone as it alerted him to a message. The dream he had been having and the anger it brought vanished when he saw who messaged him.

carrots- WAKE UP ALREADY! I’m bored! :)

The now familiar, pleasant tightening in the pit of his stomach overcame him as a smile curved his muzzle.

Dumb Fox- so bossy! :)

carrots- So lazy! :)

Dumb Fox- i regret nothing. that nap was amazing!

He leaned back and waited for her reply, realizing why he participated in Finnick’s shenanigans less and less. Judy was no less mischievous, but there was a very obvious line she was unwilling to cross. A line that could very well make him seem less in her eyes if he crossed it himself. And doing something that would put him out of the running for her affections was not worth doing at all.

carrots- Are you rested enough to for a rematch on the obstacle course?

A sly grin spreading over his face, he typed out the response.

Dumb Fox- depends… what do i get if i win? ;)

carrots- You’ll see :)

Bolting up and out of bed, Nick rushed to get dressed, his body vibrating at the thought of seeing his bunny. Letting her know he was on his way, he pocketed his phone and grabbed his key before racing to the door. Though his paw paused on the knob as he looked up at the family photo.

“I’ll make you proud, Dad,” he whispered to him. “I promise.”

With a smile, he left, ready to claim whatever prize Judy had for him when he won.

Again, he would add.

#zootopia #wildehopps #nickwilde #judy hopps #duke weaselton #au

[allnaturalingredient-blog]

Meet the Artist

Shay Renee is from Inglewood, CA. She enjoys 90’s black films and likes ice in her milk. She was voted, “Most Eccentric,” her senior year of high school and has aimed to stay true to that years later. She grew up in an artistic home where both parents were and still are acclaimed musicians performing and teaching reggae and dancehall. She lives off a few principles: do what makes you happy, it is your duty to tell your story and if you must pick from your nose you mustn’t eat what comes out.

True life, I’m far too silly to write this out myself but I shall try. I’m from Inglewood yes, I used to walk to the corner store to buy and eat pickles and kool aid. I used to run to the ice cream truck and hooooopppe it was the one with chili cheese Fritos.  I learned how to ride my bike outside of my granny’s house when I was 7.  None of the girls liked me in elementary school because I had long hair. Ya know those things that didn’t matter but because of how our society is built it did.  Not knowing at the time things like that had nothing to do with what’s inside your soul.  And to this day I will take tacos for breakfast, lunch and dinner over anything else.

When it comes to art, it has always been in me. My dad, Shaka Man is a reggae legend. Trained by Rita Marley's Grandfather he is one of the best reggae drummers in the world. My mom Yoly, was a triple threat. She traveled around the world with Ike Turner, she was a Soul Train dancer, an actress, a makeup artist and cosmetologist.  

My story is similar to many others and different in its own ways.  I grew up in on and off poverty. Some of you may know what that means. Your parents get some money, spend it all away and there you are taking a bath in a blow up pool because y’all are back to being so poor you have no bathroom. My dad was the best dad he could be at his age while I was growing up. Young and in over his head with different kids from different women so for years on and off I didn’t see him. So, it was me and my mom. My mom was young, full of energy and had big dreams.  She was also manic depressant schizophrenic. This meant she was down a lot paranoid a lot, angry a lot.  This is starting to sound like a 21 savage song. With those things combined as a child she was frightening, alot. But at the end of the day it was just her and I. I always had food on my plate no matter if it was made with church donated powdered milk or if it was seafood lasagna. She did her best with everything that she was experiencing.  Being a kid to a single mom who was mentally ill  was interesting. She had lots of ideas that she passed on to me things like, “women are to be seen not heard,” or “don’t speak in the presence of white people,” when one of her episodes would hit.  Nonetheless to say my home was nothing short of a theatrical production regularly.  All these things I carried for a very long time. Things that still haunt me, but that I’m also thankful for. I’ve never felt truly comfortable sharing my story because of my mother's sudden death.  My kind, beautiful and caring mother passed away July 20, 2018 at the age of 47 due to being hit by a car while crossing the street.  July 20th is also my dads birthday so each year I celebrate life in two very different ways. It’s a journey of healing and learning I was a part of before her passing and even more now.  She always encouraged me as an artist and an individual.  If I were to choose one thing that I learned from my mother it would be: to always be your truest self for no one but yourself knows yourself.  

As an artist I began with acting.  I was put in acting classes at the age of 5, with that it was validated I was a complete character. Growing up as an only child I’ve always known how to entertain myself.  My father would always tell me, “there is no such thing as being bored there are only boring people.” I was never a boring person.  I began in musicals that fed me so full artistically.  It brought me nothing but pure joy to sing, dance and act on stage.  Each character was my solace in a home of chaos.  Each character was my friend I was able to learn about and present to the world.  Each character was my chance to express an internal production.  I could see each line, feel each breathe come out and feel how genuine everything felt. I could always put on a full production in my mind, execute it and that is precisely what I do with my art today.  I present my internal production. Whether it's through my written monologues, my drawings, my paintings, my photography, my acting, my dancing, my designing, my anything I set my mind to I give a production.  I give a production with my heart and soul.  I start with what I know, myself and then I walk into a project with an open mind so I can learn, grow and feel my subject organically.  

I chose the name All Natural Ingredient for that is it what I am.  A singular ingredient of nature.  I produce everything with love, which is the most natural ingredient in the universe.  Art is my heart.  First form of art choice: music.  A lot of my life principles were sung by Bob Marley and Prince,  “none but ourselves can free our minds,” “dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called life.” These and many more are my DNA.  Through my journey I hope to share what I've learned, give hope to our world and anyone in it that it can help and always be open to change and growth.

[kafkasgods]

Faaya & Enyo

tw violence

The arrow flew from her bow, cutting through the air and brushing just past the target. Faaya’s jaw locked as she glowered in the direction of her misfired arrow. Reloading and preparing again, she shot the weapon and again, the arrow soared fiercely past the intended spot.

“Your hand’s too tense. I shouldn’t have to keep telling you.”

Frowning at training ground’s archer, Faaya lowered the bow. “I wasn’t asking for advice.”

The older woman shrugged, raising her own bow. The arrow pointedly hit the center of the target. “It’s my job.”

Disgruntled, Faaya began putting things away.

Again, the unsolicited voice continued. “Don’t come here to blow off steam. You need a cool head for archery. Hand to hand combat would suit you better in your state of mind.”

“You mention it every time I come here,” Faaya replied with gritted teeth.

“Then maybe start taking my advice.”

Not bothering with a reply, Faaya left. The trainer was right to some degree. Archery was not her strong suit, so Faaya would take up the challenge whenever she was feeling angry. The cool head was something she was trying to achieve through it, but that wasn’t how archery worked. Overall, it was an unsatisfying training session and the anger that had been there for days hadn’t been dulled. [8:06 PM] Despite being slightly distracted, there was a strange sensation as Faaya approached her door. It wasn’t the presence of Phobos, nor Deimos. Nothing like the presence Audrey had called upon. She felt paranoid and on guard, entering her home slowly. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, there was nothing noteworthy as far as she could tell and she reached to turn the light on.

The second the light switched on, Faaya was on the unfortunate end of firm grapple. Usually, Faaya was a good fighter; she had to consider so since she could hold her own against Luke for a bit. But the woman on top of her gave her no breaks. She roughly slammed Faaya’s head to the ground and that’s when Faaya cut her losses about trying to fight back physically. Surging all the fear power and intimidation she could muster, Faaya directed it all towards the woman, hoping she’d let up.

The woman did, but not without a smooth comment. “That pretty trick doesn’t work with me.” Moving off Faaya, she stepped over her, before elegantly taking a seat on Faaya’s couch as if the whole place had belonged to her.

Trying to quiet her heavy breathing, Faaya sat up slowly, wiping some blood that had trailed down her face. “Enyo.”

“Pleasure, Faaya. Are you going to get up or did I hurt you that badly?” The dark-haired woman raised a single brow, her expression perfectly sculpted and cool. A passing thought — Faaya wondered if her mother looked something like that. Gone. The demeanor Enyo radiated was one Faaya herself tried to perfect. Of course, she didn’t like it when it was used against her. [8:07 PM] Still keeping her dark expression, Faaya pulled herself up and walked past the goddess towards her kitchen. Silence reigned between the two of them before Faaya returning, setting black coffee down for Enyo, while her own was made to preference.

The power move was not lost on the goddess. Faaya demonstrated a willingness for obedience and decorum, but a pointed hostility. It was a favored mix in Enyo’s opinion. “Oh, let’s not avoid the elephant in the room, Faaya. Would you like to ask about Jun-Seo?”

“Am I going to get an answer?” A conversation with Enyo was something Faaya and Bentley had both wanted. Something so that they could get Luke some much needed help. But as the goddess sat in front of her, Faaya had a feeling that it was moot.

“What answer could I possibly give you? You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink. Jun-Seo is stubborn and he’ll learn his lesson or he won’t. That’s not a problem that’s yours, so would you like to waste both our times and try to make a plea?”

Of course she did, but being faced with the question that would have made her seem like an idiot, Faaya felt compelled to shake her head. “So what lesson am I here to learn?” She asked, sipping her coffee.

Enyo clicked her tongue and shook her head. “No, Faaya. You’re not learning anything. I am. I don’t know you, but I have heard a good many things from Phobos. I wanted to see if those things were true.”

“I’m sure you know, but my dad has a tendency to talk out of his ass. Nothing he says really ever is the truth.”

“I agree. That’s how you were born.”

The calm words spoken by Enyo were countered by a perplexed expression on Faaya’s face. Phobos himself only spoke of Faaya’s mom in lies, thinking it was amusing to keep the mystery alive. “And how was that?” [8:08 PM] “My daughter was very rebellious. She had no respect for me or the things I gave to her. I guess you could say we were in a peculiar situation, much like the one between Jun-Seo and I. Either way, Suravi didn’t care much for me and decided to get her fix of powers elsewhere.”

“Phobos.”

“Yes. She thought she didn’t need me and, in a bid of spite, went to Phobos for powers.”

And with a smile that seemed too bright for Enyo’s face, revealing the sharp canines she had, she tapped the air in Faaya’s direction, pleasantly. “And what a gift full of powers you are.”

It could have been a lie. Faaya was used to hearing those. But Enyo wasn’t like Phobos and she wouldn’t lie for the sake of it. But she would tell the brutal truth to her own advantage.

So that was the story. And Faaya was the end. Maybe Faaya should have felt more hurt by the discovery her biological had never wanted her. That she was a loophole in game Phobos had played. But Faaya didn’t feel much. It wasn’t earth shattering, the world didn’t change. Faaya had been living her entire life under the impression anyways. If anything, her heart hardened firm and validated.

“Will you do me a favor, Faaya?” Enyo asked, blinking slowly at her.

“Not for nothing.” The words came out automatic and hollow.

“I wouldn’t expect you to. But I’d like you to meet her. Suravi,” she clarified.

The ‘no’ was on the tip of her tongue, but there was an undeniable curiosity. One, Faaya had unfortunately never really gotten rid of, no matter how much she suppressed it. “Fine. And when should I do that?”

Enyo lifted her shoulders, casually, thinking nothing much of the situation she was throwing Faaya into. “Today. I don’t like wasting time. I’ll show you where she is and you can go from there. Talk to her, get to know her. Though, I do ask you avoid telling her your relationship. She’s not as rational as you are.” [8:09 PM] There wasn’t a lot to say between the ride between the Vines and Apollo’s Sunspot diner. Faaya remained impassive about the ordeal, while Enyo appeared to exam her the whole way through. There was some small talk, but nothing Faaya presumed important enough to remember.

Then Faaya was inside and Enyo pointed towards a booth before disappearing altogether. Seated there was a lone woman, though Faaya could only see the back of her head.

“Faaya Shah!” Neely greeted with a smile. “You look terrible. Still hot, but not great. Would you like to sit in my section?”

“Depends. Will you be electrocuting me or knock everything off the table with a healthy wind?”

“No, ma’am. Just spitting in your food as always.” Neely replied before a nearby coworker hit her arm. “Anyways,” The waitress glared shortly at the assault before turning back to Faaya. “I can get you seated elsewhere.”

“I’m fine. I’m meeting someone.” With that, Faaya walked past, leaving Neely muttering something along the lines of ‘Then say that next time.’

Seeing who sat at that booth came as a very unexpected surprise to Faaya. The archery trainer sat, mid-bite of her chili, glancing up at the visitor. [8:09 PM] “Yeah?”

The lie came easy to Faaya. “I wanted to apologize for my behavior. I tend not to be in the best mood whenever I decide to practice archery.”

Setting the spoon back down, Suravi nodded. “I can tell. It’s fine. There aren’t a lot of demigods who don’t have an attitude problem.” Suravi’s dark eyes — Did Faaya have the same ones? —  darted around momentarily, checking to see if Faaya had any other obligations. “Did you want to sit? The only rule is no shop talk. I’ve been at work all day. Come again tomorrow if you want the pointers.”

“It’s possible I’ve lost interest in archery.” But Faaya slowly slid across the booth, facing her mother.

“I would have imagined you’d have more tenacity than that, but whatever floats your boat.” Suravi called Neely back and Faaya’s order got placed in. It came relatively quick considering she’d only gotten a drink and fries. This conversation didn’t really inspire eating.

“Faaya?” Suravi repeated. “That’s a pretty name. I’m Suravi. Hey, can I guess whose kid you are?”

Faaya blinked before nodding.

“Okay, I’m gonna throw a couple out there. Athena?” No. “Khione?” No. “Morpheus?” Hell no. “Alright, I give up.”

“Deimos,” Faaya answered and again, Suravi surprised her by the sudden shift of demeanor. The entire time, the older woman seemed to be slipping into a comfortable conversation with Faaya, while now, with her jaw locked and a look of distaste, Faaya could only sense a strong resentment.

“I hate those gods.”

“Come again?” [8:10 PM] Suravi leaned back into the booth, keeping a levelled stare at Faaya. “I don’t really have a great history with his twin, Phobos. I won’t get into it, but I’m very sorry for you, Faaya.”

Faaya’s lip twitched. How could that be both funny and infuriating? Suravi had a lot to apologize for, but that was the last thing she needed to. “And who should I sympathize to you about?” It was hard keeping the anger out of her tone, but Faaya was well-versed in a cold fury.

Suravi snorted. “Enyo. I’ll take all the sympathy I can get. Woman’s a bitch. Don’t tell her I said that. Or do. Whatever.”

“I would have guessed Apollo. Given the archery.”

“Enyo’s got a proclivity towards all weapons. And I do hand-to-hand combat training some mornings. You don’t train often?”

“When I need to. I’m usually too busy with work. It keeps me on an opposite schedule of most people.”

“Yeah, what do you do?”

“I work at the Grapevine.” Faaya picked at her fries. “What happened between you and Enyo? I don’t know if I hear someone swear out a goddess everyday.”

Suravi shrugged. “We disagreed on too many things. She wanted me to be one way and I wasn’t going to let her turn me into someone who jerked themselves off to conflict. Enyo doesn’t care about people.”

“Is that why you hate all the gods with a darker presence?”

“Partially. I sought out Phobos when I was young and stupid and it fucked me in the ass.”

Faaya sucked on the front of her teeth. “Phobos isn’t the first god I think of when I think to seek one out.”

Suravi pushed the chili around, keeping her eyes low. “Well, no one else had answered and I figured it’d be nice to give Enyo a good dose of fear. Again, young and stupid. Either way, it worked out fine enough in the end.”

“Hm?” Faaya hummed, biting her tongue. “Things are going well for you now?” [8:10 PM] Suravi lifted her hand, shaking it a little in a ‘so-so’ manner. “It’s alright. I haven’t heard from Enyo or Phobos in a long time and they leave my family alone, so I’m grateful for that and I love my job. I guess the only thing is I miss going on quests, but you know, I should probably be glad to be alive for my kids.”

“You have kids?”

The look on Suravi’s face brightened. “Yeah! I know I look young, but I’ve got two little ones. They mostly take after their mortal dad, but my daughter likes when I train her a little.”

This was enough for Faaya. Just as she was about to open her mouth to excuse herself, Enyo stood, smiling between the two of them at the end of the table.

“Isn’t this a nice family reunion?” Her arms were lifted slightly, greeting the both of them.

“Wha- Why-” Confusion and anger flooded Suravi’s face as she spluttered at the sight of Enyo.

“Don’t be so surprised, Suravi. I didn’t think you’d be much of a fool to presume you could stage a single coup against me without any repercussions. You went to Phobos and you wanted me to feel fear?” Enyo leaned down. “I will put fear in you.” Straightening again, Enyo jerked her head towards Faaya. “Your daughter, Suravi. I do like her quite a bit more than you, but we’ve only just met. I need to get to know her a little better and I have just the question to ask.”

Enyo turned towards Faaya. Both women at the table were staring at her — Enyo with a sadistic glint and Suravi with something between horrified awe. [8:11 PM] “Faaya, would you like Suravi’s powers? You can’t do very much with the parlour tricks you’ve inherited from Phobos, but you can do much more with what I can give you. I know you’d put better use to them than anything Suravi’s ever done. Teaching, Suravi?” She gave her daughter a withered look before giving Faaya her attention again. “Of course, if you don’t need them that’s fine too. I won’t hold it against you. I just thought I’d ask.”

Slowly, Faaya moved her gaze from Enyo’s encouraging one to Suravi, now staring at her with pleading eyes. It’d ruin her whole life. “Faaya...”

If only Faaya could find it in herself to care what happened to this woman. “I would.”

“Perfect,” Enyo grinned. “That means you can leave, Suravi. You’re not my demigod, you’re not my daughter. Epineios is no longer your home.” She looked back down at Faaya. “Should we let her stay, do you think?”

“No.” Faaya wanted Suravi gone. Out of sight, out of mind.

Enyo leaned back down, closer to Suravi than she’d been before. The tone was harsh and unforgiving, Enyo’s black eyes piercing and hard. “Leave.” There was no room for arguing, begging, any of it.

Still, when Suravi stood, followed by Faaya, standing beside Enyo, the woman gave her the same dark look that had come over her when Faaya had mentioned Deimos. The only thing that came from Suravi spitting at Faaya’s feet before leaving was a strange and fulfilling sense of satisfaction.

Again, Enyo was gone and Faaya was left to foot the bill, but it hadn’t even annoyed her in the slighted. She left Neely a gracious tip and returned home. There was a lot to go over...And new powers? To test. Normally, she would have preferred to take a rest after all the activity, but Faaya felt energized. It felt like a good day. [8:12 PM] Returning to her apartment, Faaya’s day was only more validated. Walking towards the middle of the living room, she picked up the card from Enyo to read:

Faaya, It was a pleasure to meet you and I look forward to guiding you in the future. We’ve already had so much fun. I know I haven’t been very attentive, but I thought I’d give you a welcome to the family sort of gift. Loyal and lethal, you’ll find no fear in the brothers. Give them kisses from me. Enyo

Placing the card down, Faaya knelt down to the basket where two sleeping Rottweiler pups snoozed. She’d always wanted a pet, but her powers had always scared animals off. Gently, she scratched one of their ears. He snored softly, edging his head closer to her hand. Faaya smiled down at them. Judas and Brutus.

[mysunfreckle]

Could you maybe write something very fluffy with JBM? Maybe with Chetta and Joly cheering Bossuet up after something bad-ish (I mean, it’s Bossuet, he probably falls off stairs at least once a month lol) happened to him?

It would be my honour and my pleasure anon

J/B/M fluff, Modern AU, 1k

“What’snext, chef?” Musichetta teases, pushing the cutting board with minced mushroomsin Joly’s direction. Whenever they cook he is definitely in charge andrightfully so. Musichetta hates to admit it but cooking has just never been herforte and Bossuet should not be allowed near knives or boiling water.

“Chilipepper,” Joly grins. “Take the pips out before you chop them though.”

“Can do,”she hums giving his side a squeeze as she moves past him towards the fridge.

Joly makesan appreciative sound that still has a bit of a yelp in it, he’s ridiculouslyticklish.

Just whenMusichetta turns around with the package of chili peppers she hears the frontdoor open. She smiles.

“We’re inthe kitchen, Bos!” Joly chimes happily. “It’s dinner omelette today.”

“Nice.”

Musichettaand Joly look at each other. That was a very short answer and more importantly,it didn’t sound like the mouth that gave it was smiling. Joly leaves his plateof herbs and Musichetta puts down the peppers. Bossuet hasn’t even taken hiscoat off yet when they’re both bearing down on him.

“Didsomething happen?” Joly asks, looking into Bossuet’s face before he wraps hisarms around his waist.

Musichettafollows suit, only she can properly reach around his shoulders so she does.

“I’m fine,”Bossuet grins weakly, standing still with his coat still on because he doesn’t reallyhave a choice right now.

He doesn’tsound too convincing, so Musichetta leans her head against his for a momentbefore pressing a kiss on his cheek. “Sure?” she asks.

“Yeah,” hesays, trying to free his arms so he can hug them both back. “I am now atleast.” This time the cheer in his voice sounds a little more natural.

Musichettaglances down at Joly. His expertise on Bossuet still trumps hers after all. Helooks a little doubtful, but he does release Bossuet from the hug. At leastlong enough for him to take off his coat.

“Am Iallowed in the kitchen today?” Bossuet grins, throwing his coat on the couch.

“You are always allowed in the kitchen,” Joly protests.

“Just notwhen you’re deep-frying,” Musichetta reminds him.

“Not whenI’m deep-frying,” Joly agrees, taking Bossuet’s hand.

He andMusichetta return to their chopping stations and Bossuet sits on the tatteredwooden chair by the door, watching them work. He looks fine now, but Musichettaisn’t quite ready to let this go. After Joly has told them about his latestadventures at the hospital and made Bossuet laugh a couple of times, shecrosses the kitchen to take a seat on his lap and asks:

“So, whathappened?”

She knowsshe has to work on not forcing people to share, but comfort must be given andshe has to be sure he’s alright. It’s a side effect of being loved by her. Onethat Joly and Bossuet have come to expect and cherish, so even though Bossuetgives her a dismissive smile at first he still answers:

“Nothingmuch, kind of messed up a presentation by breaking a projector. I wouldn’tmind, but it was a group project.”

Musichettahums fondly. That’s just like him. Whatever bad happens to himself he brushesoff without a second thought, but if otherpeople are involved…

“Were theyupset with you?” Joly frowns and Musichetta makes room so he can sit onBossuet’s other knee.

“Nah,”Bossuet shakes his head. “I just felt bad. It took a lot for Dani to get overher nerves and then I mess it up for her.”

Joly makesa sympathetic noise and wraps his arms around Bossuet’s neck. The chair reallyisn’t big or comfortable enough to sit like this, but none of them want to movenow.

“Not thatshe minded,” Bossuet laughs suddenly. “She said it was nice to not be thereason things go wrong for once.”

Musichettaswallows her laugh, but Joly doesn’t.

“See,” he says.“You make people feel better even if you think you’re making them feel bad.”

Bossuetgrins and nudges against the side of Joly’s face to ask for a kiss. He gets oneand Musichetta presses one on the back of his head. Bossuet hums happily andturns his head for the same again only the other way round, but just before hislips meet Musichetta’s there’s a groan of creaking wood.

“Up!”Bossuet cries and he jumps to his feet, dragging both his better thirds up withhim.

Theystumble against him, each being steadied by one of his arms as the old chairgives out and the back legs and back tear away from the seat with a crack.

“That’s astroke of luck,” Bossuet laughs elatedly. “Just in time.”

He’s stillclutching both Joly and Musichetta close and they both let out a startledlaugh.

“Our hero,”Musichetta laughs and she gives him the kiss he was still owed.

“Poorchair,” Joly sighs. “But it died nobly.”

“Under ourcombined weight,” Musichetta snorts.

“In thecause of comfort and cuddles,” Joly corrects her.

“I shallwrite a worthy eulogy while you finish dinner,” Bossuet declares, hischaracteristic wide smile back on his face.

“Chetta canhelp you,” Joly says with a grin while he walks to the stove. “Not much left tofinish.”

“No, no,”Musichetta shakes her head. “I will let the master of lamentations work hismagic. I’m available to wail mournfully in the background though.”

After thefirst verse of the epitaph, Joly’s phone buzzes. It’s a message from their next-doorneighbour and it reads simply: “?”

Joly handsMusichetta his phone and she sends back: “Funeral for a beloved chair.”

They have adeal with the next door neighbour. He doesn’t mind their noise, but he can’tstand not knowing what the noise is about. So whenever he’s curious he sends aquestion mark and they tell him what’s going on. It’s a good deal, the three ofthem always feel extra validated in their noisy cheerfulness when they get amessage.

“I wasbeginning to worry,” Joly snickers. “That was definitely question mark worthy.”

“And I’monly getting started,” Bossuet grins.

#j/b/m #joly #musichetta #bossuet #fluff #yup joly is the cook of the ot3 #if i let chetta be the one that cooks comfort i'll turn her into myself #and i don't want that ^^ #thank you for the prompt anon! #it was high time i wrote a proper jbm piece :) #i like to think their relationship develops quite slowly #but it's already going strong here #be careful what you wish for #sunfreckle's stories

[laurabwrites]

Character Development Questions: Hard Mode - Eric

This is for the same story Lucas from last Monday will be appearing in. Eric is the second (out of three) characters I’m trying to flesh out.

1. Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? which one are they closest with?

Eric had a younger brother, Marcus, who was three years younger than him. All their cousins were hundreds of miles away, so the families weren’t close. Marcus and Eric weren’t super close but they were friendly and sometimes did stuff together (video games or catch. Occasionally Eric chaperoned Marcus and some friends at the movies [‘cause he could drive]), but mostly they hung out with their respective friends group.

2. What is/was your character’s relationship with their mother like?

Reasonably good. Eric’s mom, Nadine, worked longish hours as a professional so he didn’t see her as much as his Dad, but he respected his Mom’s professional accomplishments, her work ethic, her outlook on life, and her chili.

3. What is/was your character’s relationship with their father like?

Close. Eric learned a lot of household skills from his Dad, Eliot, and had long discussions about literature and ethics with him.

4. Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?

Yes. And he really doesn’t want to talk about it.

(Pria has the news article summary version of what happened, but not from Eric. So her view is that she doesn’t know what happened, not really. Lucas doesn’t know.)

5. On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?

Phone, wallet, pocket/multi tool (Leatherman actually). In his backpack is his laptop, today’s class textbook, notebook for the appropriate class, homework, pencils, notecards, highlighters, sunglasses, water bottle, and a deck of playing cards.

6. Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams?

Walking through the woods during the fall with his Dad and brother.

7. Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares?

Theme, no; event, yes — his parents’ and brother’s murder. Technically, his murder too, except for the permanently dying part.

8. Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target?

Yes, he went target shooting once. He decided it’d take more time and work than he could afford to get accurate enough to make a gun a reasonable weapon choice. So that was the last time he touched a gun too.

9. Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?

Yes. Eric grew up solidly upper-middle class — two working, professional parents — and now he’s a black college student on financial aid and work study with no family support.

10. Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?

Eh. It’s cold in New England and heat is expensive. More clothing for now.

11. In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?

The night his home was invaded and his family was murdered.

12. In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been?

Calm might be the wrong emotion but he appeared incredibly calm at his family’s funeral. That was shock, numbness, and disassociation though. Actual calm would probably be last night, right before falling sleeping with Pria, or the walk through the woods with his dad when they talked through applying to colleges and career goals.

13. Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way?

Yes, it makes him angry and shaky (in sufficient quantities. A paper cut or scrap is fine.)

14. Does your character remember names or faces easier?

Faces.

15. Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not?

A little - he has to be right now for survival.

16. Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success?

Happiness.

17. What was your character’s favorite toy as a child?

A puppet stage he and his brother put shows on together.

18. Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others?

Wisdom. Reminds him of his Dad.

19. What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before?

He’s been a bit too passive and too willing to put up with shit (like people staying in the closet) for the past year, year and a half. There’s some self-loathing issues going on.

20. In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism?

Eric compares himself to what other people accomplish as a method of self-criticism. He’s carrying a lot of guilt (and anger) and thinks he should have been capable of doing more.

21. If something tragic or negative happens to your character, do they believe they may have caused or deserved it, or are they quick to blame others?

Depends on the severity of what happens, but right now, Eric definitely thinks he deserves everything bad that comes his way.

22. What does your character like in other people?

Imagination, creativity, empathy, follow through, reliability.

23. What does your character dislike in other people?

Violence, dullness, meanness, cruelty.

24. How quick is your character to trust someone else?

Give people a chance but verify.

25. How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person?

Depends — does he have a reason to suspect someone? If he does, he’ll worry at the problem until he figures it out.

26. How does your character behave around children?

He’ll try to engage them in a storytelling or imagination game. It usually works.

27. How does your character normally deal with confrontation?

Depends on who’s on the other side of the confrontation. He’s black and very aware of the disadvantages that puts him in New England, even (particularly) on a liberal arts college campus. If it’s with people he knows and trusts, he’ll verbally stand his ground, preferably engaging in a debate. He doesn’t trust people it’d turn to violence around, so during such a confrontation he’d work to calm things down so he can get the hell out of there. And preferably never interact with them again.

28. How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation?

They need to swing first. Except when it comes to Lucas’s frat brothers, the ones older than Lucas. Eric thinks they swung first a long time ago.

29. What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true?

A professor of literature, preferably African-American or Japanese.

He’s 18. He’s working on it. Maybe.

30. What does your character find repulsive or disgusting?

Organ meat. Sewage. Anything with a bad enough smell.

31. Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable.

Reading a book with a cup of hot chocolate. Maybe some music. Maybe some other folks hanging out.

What? It’s cold in New England. He may have grown up here but it’s still cold!

32. Describe a scenario in which your character feels most uncomfortable.

Angry authority figures — particularly law enforcement or security services.

33. In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve?

Willing to improve

34. Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method?

Socially, different solution. Physical problem trying to solve, try again to figure out why it isn’t working and then correct from there.

35. How does your character behave around people they like?

A little intense, in that he’d like to keep talking/interacting so he’s paying a lot of attention to the conversation. Unless folks are just hanging out, then he’ll relax into whatever activity is going on. If he really likes them / is attracted to them, he’ll be as physically close/affectionate as their body language indicates they’re comfortable with.

36. How does your character behave around people they dislike?

Disengaged.

37. Is your character more concerned with defending their honor, or protecting their status?

Status, as in the status of being alive.

38. Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat?

He’d prefer to remove himself, but recognizes this isn’t always an option.

39. Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)?

Not a thing that’s happened to him.

40. How does your character treat people in service jobs?

You’ve got a job to do and I’ll try not to make it any harder than it has to be.

41. Does your character feel that they deserve to have what they want, whether it be material or abstract, or do they feel they must earn it first?

Eric thinks it doesn’t matter, he’ll have to earn it and keep demonstrably earning it to prevent it, whatever it is, from being taken away.

42. Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them?

Yes, his freshman history teacher — she taught him a lot about text analysis.

43. Has your character ever had a dependent figure who was not related to them?

No.

44. How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it?

Fairly easy if he means it, but also yes, he can say it without meaning it.

45. What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them?

He’s not sure — probably hell, assuming anything exists after death. (Have I given the impression that Eric is a bit depressed? Because he’s a lot depressed.)

#character development #writing #wip #eric #writeblr #I'm giving all my characters such unhappy backstories #these poor people

[thecosmiccuttlefish]

Totally Okay

April 12th 2017

8:57pm

Today was so good it was kind of unbelievable.

It was one of those days where I felt really happy. So happy I feel almost ethereal, and everyone else around me is less happy and therefore I feel... unhappy too? Or brought down? Or like my happiness is fake and built up and a wall or something? But that was only at the end. For the most part I felt that everyone’s happiness was right there with me. 

The good started when I obliged by my mum’s request and said I couldn’t babysit. As a result, I felt lighter and I explained to the babysitting guy why I couldn’t babysit. I said I suffered from mental health issues at the moment and needed to take some time for myself. He totally understood, and said that they loved me dearly and that was a bonus.

Then I went to deposit the check... OH SHOOT! I need to fix the deposit error. For the family, getting out of a few taxes by transferring funds.... that thing. I got up the courage to say as I was coming down the stairs: “I don’t like doing this!!!” My father said “I know, but we’re saving a lot of money by doing it!” Then he left with my brother.

Who is totally addicted to his iPad.

Then Mum took the check and put it in her jacket. I told her later as I was depositing it not to worry as I wasn’t going to go throw it out or anything like that... just because it feels morally questionable, but it settled.

Then we went to psychiatrist #1, we were early. I didn’t want to go to Starbucks or something (even though I was a smidge hungry) so I suggested mum and I go to the shops to buy some stuff for Easter. That was a good time. I bought a puzzle for Melody for her birthday.

After the meeting, which went well and was productive (save the fact that psychiatrist #1 received like three phone calls from people which she dealt with swiftly but I was like comoooonnn y’know?) I sat in the car when mum was trying to figure out where to meet this lady for work.

When she figured it out we drove and I admitted I was hungry. Usually my mum who is very pessimistic with her musings talked about how for some people, they just get tired of the eating disorder. They wake up and are like “That’s it.” I explained that I think I was feeling that tired.

Not tired physically or even severely drained emotionally, which is what I always thought people meant, but I’m tired because I’m bored of it. I know how it works. I know what it does, what it does for me, and ALSO I want to do with so much more with my life.

That being said.... when we pulled up to stop for a snack, I peered across the street and spotted one of those super trendy health food spots, and though my mum was protesting and wanted to go to a nice bakery I jogged across to it.

“Margo- no”

“No! Look! Can we just go in? I just want to look!”

“No!”

“Nonoo. No. It’s okay. I’m just going to look. Look! I bet the have rice krispie treats, or like a muffin! I’ll have a muffin.”

I saw smoothies. “There you go Margo.”

So we waited in line. For the first time, I was beginning to see these places through my mum’s eyes. There were a lot of skinny young girls there. My mum and I each picked up what the woman in front of us saying as she ordered. I noted how she was talking spin class, my mum noticed she was asking for no rice and extra beets.

“I mean...” I began “We can go to the coffee place if you want to.”

“...Do you want to?” Asked mum quizzically.

“I...I mean... maybe... ” doesthatsmoothiehavebokchoyinitholycrap “But that smoothie does look so good.”

While we were waiting for my Rejuvenation smoothie ($10) I looked around with mum. She held up a small package of cocoa thing. It had pictures of chili along with chocolate, and read “guilt free”

“Twenty dollars! For this?”

“I know... it’s kind of brain washing.”

“The good thing is,” Said mum, continuing with her positive musings “that since you’ve had an eating disorder you’ll be able to recognize what’s disordered and spot it from a mile of way.”

“Oh ya! Disordered behaviors.” I said, feeling a happy flutter in my chest that my decision to have a smoothie didn’t make her feel I wasn’t recovery focused.

It’s like this. I think that just as bad as McDonalds can be for your body if it’s all you eat, this super healthy “clean” food, can be just as bad for your mind if it’s all you eat.

As I gulped down my giant green smoothie, I said how I kind of wished I was still doing public speaking so I could write a persuasive speech on it.

“Well, you can write.” Said mum. I can write.

In the coffee sandwich shop where my mum had her meeting, the woman asked what I was doing, I told her that I went to withdraw from university because of mental health reasons #screwstigma

She said, something along the lines of “Oh. I’m sorry.”

I replied “It’s okay, It happens to a lot of people.”

“It does.”

Later. My mum asked “Marg, do you mind if I tell her?” 

“Go ahead-”

“She’s suffering from an eating disorder.”

okay. I didn’t know what I was expecting her to share. But that’s okay. They talked about ed culture and that for a while, and then when the lady left to get a drink or something and came back and said “I don’t want to take up too much of your time.” So I got up.

I walked around. I saw cute girls. I stood. But I didn’t exercise.

**I

After that we sped home, met up with Melody then went to get the Hostler heart monitor on. We walked around the hospital a little too much maybe. A little bit ED maybe? When I said “Maybe we can walk around to the main entrance.” and Melody said “Sure. Okay.” My heart sunk a little bit. Giving into the walking.

The very efficient lady who put it on was looking a little sad, but I made her smile. I complimented her eyes, and then when she told me when to bring it back I said: “Okay. So I don’t go sell it on eBay or something.”

THEN we went back home. Had lunch. Pizza. When I said I didn’t want to spend money at the hospital for food and we were walking back, Melody mentioned she saw some in the fridge.

Well my my my. So did I. I wanted to eat some, and guess what? I did! I had veggies, and pizza, and hummus, and started to eat some... Kimchi? From the Korean restaurant. But that kind of made me sad because it tasted the opposite of happy. So I composted it, and had some fancy cereal instead. That was pretty swell. I was still hungry, so I had yogurt and half a pear, and granola.

“Do you want anymore?” Asked Melody

“No...Um... Actually sure.”

Then, mum called, and she has to take antibiotics for post-surgery unfortunately, so Melody needed to take me downtown for the ED program intro session. We needed to leave soon, We went for a walk. I head a bit of chest tightness, so I wrote it down on my little thing where I write down symptoms.

The walk was a little more Ed.... okay, I went a bit longer that I should’ve and walked backwards up a hill. And carried Archie up a hill to compensate for not walking up backwards (This caused me to breath very heavily.)

Melody thought for sure we were going to be late and so did I, but heck! We made it! I walked with Melody for a bit downtown, and was kind of... ed-ish I ate my other half of pear which had the richness and consistency that reminded me of butter, but I avoided eating energy bar... when I pressed ahead and walked up the stairs instead of taking the  elevator. Why did I do that? I did squats in the bathroom. Why?

But I’m telling you! My mood and everything was so good today!

So here I was, in the ED intro session. It was me, a red-headed girl who I feel like I would get along with, an older woman who was also very skinny. Her mother maybe?

Another very skinny girl who was with her mother.

I felt like the healthiest one there. This made me... feel. Unqualified? But still... validated?

The Session was run by a calm and beautiful older woman named Belle and her assistant Briana. It was cool. My dad came in.

The recovery rates... aren’t great. Less than half make a full recovery. I can do it though. I know I can.

I enjoyed the charts on the power point the spectrum of eating disorder’s especially. How It starts with feeling overweight, then dieting, then restricting, purging, exercising, and it turns from disordered eating to an eating disorder.

There was also a specturm of care. Outpatient, inpatient, and finally tertiary. At that slide the red haired girl said she needed to use the washroom again. She’d been once in the waiting room.

I looked away.

I approached Belle afterwards, and asked... that it was common for people to feel they aren’t sick enough, but was it it common for people to feel like they need to be sicker? Like I feel I need to get to tertiary care to stop. To high-five that wall. It’s all lies of course, but... I don’t know. I just thought. She told me it’s false, and to think of what the ED has stolen from me.

The other things that stuck out to me were:

Belle saying many girls in young to mid twenties have osteoporosis. There was a twenty something with a cane who later died.

How in prevention programs they can’t even talk about behaviors because it plants the seed.

A woman relapsed because her bucket was “filling up” with stresses, and she didn’t empty it. And, how you need to be hyper vigilant. Even when recovered. Because the ED is always there below the surface, waiting for a chance to come up. So ya. Ya. I should probably eat that cupcake. At which point I said “Preach” and the red headed girl laughed a little.

My dad learned that feeling ambivalent towards recovery is very common. That made him feel hopeful I think. I saw him nodding, I was kind of shocked he hadn’t realized that before.

We walked around the neighborhood, maybe too much. ED?Ish? My chest felt tight again. But the rain had stopped, the blossoms were out and because of that I felt I could walk for ever.

We went home. I stood, dad placed pasta with meat sauce and freshly grated cheese in front of me. And milk.

There was a large part of me that was all: “No. I don’t want to eat this. I can’t eat this right now.” But I did. I did and it was totally okay.

And y’know what? I’m trying to be more aware of my surroundings and what recovery means and I think right now I’m totally okay.

It sucks it’s going to take a while to get into a program, but for now I’m getting there.

#ed #ed recovery #journal #anorexia recovery #recovery #eating disorder recovery #diary