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security-chief-odo · 5 months

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The Fake Dating Job - Chapter 3

Elliot Spencer x Reader

Chapter 1 & Chapter 2

Note: So sorry for the hiatus. Life got in the way. Thank you for sticking around and being so patient with me 💕

Word Count: ~1.9k

Description: You wake up in a comfortable warmth the morning of the wedding. This leaves Eliot consuming your every thought as you get ready.

• • •

You start to stir as you feel the light of the sun creep through the sheer curtains of the hotel room. You feel a comfortable warmth envelop you and sink further into it, seeking shelter from the harsh chill of the room.

Suddenly you feel the bed shift under you and realize the warmth you’re feeling is Eliot’s chest beneath you. His arms are wrapped around you as he pulls you close in his sleep.

A soft smile graces Eliot’s no longer sleeping face as he feels you cuddle closer to him. He knows he won’t often get the chance to hold you like this so he pretends to not notice the way you breathe hitches with every movement. He may never get to hold you like this again but he will dream happily at night at just the memory of your soft skin against his calloused hands.

You lay there, eyes now open, as still as you can and just soak in this seemingly unconscious act of affection. This isn’t like every other touch of this torturous weekend. This is real, perhaps unintentional, but real nonetheless. This isn’t for an audience, this is just Eliot holding you to him as he rests.

Sadly the moment is ripped from you as you hear your sister knock on the door to your room. Eliot pretends to startle awake and you do the same as you quickly pull away from each other.

“Y/N!” your sister calls out. “We gotta get going. The makeup artist will be at the venue in half an hour.” Eliot lays back down, now that he knows the disturbance had nothing to do with him.

You sigh and roll out of bed. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten!”

You wash your face and brush your teeth as you try to calm your racing thoughts.

By the time you leave the bathroom, Eliot has settled back in to sleep, stretching his body across nearly the entire bed. You can’t help the smile that crosses your face at the sight of the nearly always tense hitter at ease for once.

You grab your dress and the small day bag you had for the trip and close the door as quietly as you can.

***

You and the other girls are chatting in the green robes your sister gave you each as gifts. You are in the middle of getting your hair done when a text lights up your phone.

Eliot: Did your sister plan lunch for all of you?

“Ooh, you’re blushing y/n” you hear the voice of your sister’s best friend from across the room, “Texting your new man?”

The other girls chuckle and they continue to talk amongst themselves.

You roll your eyes and pretend to ignore them, but can feel the blush light up your cheeks. You show your sister the text to get her answer.

“Mom talked about running to the store and picking up salads or sandwiches later. I just don’t want anything that will upset my stomach. It’s already in knots with everything else today.” She points down the hall and adds, “There’s a kitchen through there if you want her to pick you something to make instead though.”

“Thanks,” you reply as you type out your response.

Y/n: My mom might be picking something up. There’s a kitchen in the bridal suite so we have options. Why?

Eliot: Tell your mom not to worry about it. If it’s alright with your sister, I’ll take care of lunch for you ladies.

Your sister elbows you lightly as she teases, “Do you smile like that at every text or just when pretty boys with long hair text you?”

“You should see the smile I save for spam texts” you deadpan back at her. “Eliot wants to bring us all lunch if that’s alright with you.”

“He’s handsome, has a southern accent and he cooks? Should I be expecting the save the dates when I get back from my honeymoon?” The shit eating grin on her face widens at your clear embarrassment.

“So is that a yes on lunch?”

“Yeah, and tell him I said thank you.”

The hair stylist interrupts “Alright, you’re good to go and I’m ready for the bride.”

You swap places with your sister and grab your phone.

Y/n: She said she’d appreciate you bringing food.

Eliot: Perfect. I’ll be there in 30 and I’ll make y’all something fresh.

Y/n: Thanks! You’re the best fake boyfriend I’ve ever had.

Your heart sinks in your chest as you read over your own words. It is for the best to stay reminded of the reality of the situation. It would only hurt more if you let yourself get fully lost in it. In just a couple of days everything will return to normal and you’ll still be pining after Eliot and he will remain blissfully unaware.

You try to brush off these thoughts and be present with the others and most importantly, your sister. You put your phone away and rejoin the conversation. “Eliot said he’ll be here in 30 to make us lunch.”

“Damn,” your sister’s maid of honor chimes in, “Where did you find him again and does he have any single friends?”

You and the others laugh at her joke. “I don’t know, with looks like that, I’m more interested to know if he has a brother.” adds in one of the bridesmaids.

Before long the makeup artist is done with the mother of the groom’s makeup and it is your turn in the chair. You settle in and try to distract yourself from Eliot’s imminent arrival by listening to the idle conversation the other women are having.

Part of you is excited that he’s showing up, in small part due to the rumble your stomach lets out, but mostly just because it’s Eliot, and you are a fool who couldn’t help falling head over heels for him. The minutes pass as you try to calm your ever increasing heart rate, but the moment you hear a rapping at the door, your heart begins practically beating out of your chest.

The artist only has your makeup a little over halfway done, so the maid of honor lets him in.He drops off an armful of groceries in the kitchen that the maid of honor leads him to and follows her back to the room you are all in.

He smiles softly at you, which you miss completely as the artist works on your eye makeup. “Hey beautiful,” he says, setting your cheeks ablaze, before turning to the rest of the room,”I should have lunch ready for you ladies in about 20 minutes.” With that he turns on his heel and leaves the room before you have a moment to reply.

The makeup artist makes quick work of the rest of your makeup as the girls chatter around you. Your sister in the chair next to you looks over at you and teases “Damn, y/n. If that’s how he looks at you when you’re not even done being dolled up, I don’t know how he’s gonna tear his eyes away from you long enough to even notice there’s a wedding happening around him in a couple hours.”

In lieu of being able to roll your eyes at your sister, you opt to flip her off.

A bridesmaid chimes in “No, she’s right y/n. That man is absolutely smitten with you.” For a moment, you almost let yourself believe it, but you know he was just playing it up for the girls. After all, that’s what you asked him to do.

Moments later the artist wraps up and finally you are free to go see Eliot in the kitchen. You quietly approach, and of course Eliot hears your steps and knows exactly who it is, but he pretends not to notice you standing in the doorway. He likes when you watch him and maybe he knows if he took the time to look at you right now, he wouldn’t be able to resist holding you in his arms again and you leaving this morning already nearly broke him.

You take in his frame, his arms flexing under his henley as he expertly chops up the last couple of vegetables in front of him, a few strands of his hair falling into his face from his half-ponytail, and those jeans that fit his ass just a little too well for your thoughts to remain pure. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re already in love with him because this almost vulnerable sight would be enough to make anyone fall for him. “Hey beautiful,” you parrot his earlier words back at him.

A goofy, lopsided smile crosses his face, as he puts the knife down and begins assembling sandwiches. He looks into your eyes, not daring to even let his eyes drift as far as your nose. “Hey,” he almost whispers “What can I do for you?”

“You’re already doing more than enough Eliot. I really just came in here to say thank you. Not just for this,” you gesture at the food, “but for this entire weekend. I know it’s a lot to ask of anyone and I really appreciate you doing this for me. I owe you one”

Returning his attention to the food he replies “You don’t owe me a damn thing sweetheart. I’m just happy to help.” He begins cutting the sandwiches into fourths diagonally, of course and you start taking them and placing them on the tray to at least help a little.

Your heart skips a beat when your hands graze against each other as he hands you the pieces that were on the other side of the knife. It is far from the most intimate touch you have had with him, but just like this morning, the private moments, even the unintentional ones, are a lot harder to brush off as part of the performance.

As you finish laying the different kind of sandwiches on the tray, he goes to the fridge and grabs a charcuterie board he had clearly made himself before you entered the kitchen. It was this sight that finally made your stomach let out a rumble. He looked you up and down before asking “Hungry?” with a smile.

“A little.” you joke in return.

He reaches around you to grab the sandwich tray. With both hands full, he leans over and kisses your cheek before replying “Then lead the way princess.”

And with that small act, clearly not an accident nor an act you were left reeling as you rejoin the others. He places the two platters on the table before “I will see you this evening, but I think your sister would be pissed if I show up to the wedding like this.”

Your sister laughs, “Well, he’s not wrong.”

With that, he takes his leave with a quick peck on your lips and a polite wave to the room. Your heart is beating out of your chest and you can only hope nobody can tell.

• • •

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think

Taglist: @mini-kunoichi @javicstories @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @being-worthy@xkell-bellx @imaginecrushes @sleeplessskeleton @fablesrose

#eliot spencer fanfic #eliot spencer x reader #eliot spencer/reader #leverage fanfic #eliot spencer #reader insert #female reader #leverage fic #the fake dating job #fake dating #wedding #wedding date #there was only one bed #and it’s natural consequences #Eliot Spencer is a big softie #eliot spencer cooking

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hiccanna-tidbits · 5 months

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@jackunzel-time

Jackunzel Month Week 2 - Coming of Age

***

"Okay, can I look now?"

"Not yet!"

The kitchen is once again filled with the sounds of Rapunzel banging around, plates and dishware clattering as she searches the fridge. Jack's got a sneaking suspicion this all has something to do with the huge, tinfoil-covered mound on the top shelf.

For an entire week, Rapunzel insisted they put every ounce of leftovers in the bottom half of the fridge, ignoring the Mysterious Object™️like a leaky faucet you handn't gotten around to fixing. Not that Rapunzel doesn't occasionally need her home fridge for work-related things, but she isn't normally cagey about it.

Jack once again resists the urge to peek out of the blindfold.

"Come ooooon, Zellie! This anticipation is going to kill me before our starving artist lifestyle does."

Rapunzel laughs. "Starving? I'll have you know, sir, that I've had no less than 5 whole french fries today!"

Considering it was 9 pm, this was not an ideal french fry quota. Rapunzel definitely had time to eat more fries today.

Jack wonders idly if Rapunzel's just getting too caught up in her work to take lunch breaks, or if her manager is crunching her deadlines again.

Before he can get too far into plotting how he would swap her boss's salt and sugar without getting Rapunzel in trouble, he hears the distinctive sound of a lighter.

"Are you torching our apartment?" he asks. "Because if so, I'm very offended I wasn't invited to participate."

Rapunzel scoffs. "Don't be silly! Like I'd set the place on fire without getting home insurance first. And it isn't as though either of us can afford that."

"You're still making me nervous. Usually I'm the one who plays the pranks."

"Hmmm, well...that would have been a good idea, actually." Rapunzel sounds a little regretful. "But no tricks today, I promise. Now open your eyes!"

And at last, Jack gets to see what all the fuss is about.

A stunning, snow-white cake sits in the middle of their dining room table, covered in sparkly silver candy orbs and carefully sculpted fondant snowflakes. All around the side are little hand-painted winter scenes, meticulously crafted by an icing brush in a process that must've taken hours. On top, a "2" and a "6" candle sit ablaze.

Rapunzel, of course, spends all day at work decorating cakes. It's her career. (Or, at least, it has been for the past 6 months--the longest she's gone without leaving a job to date.)

It still seems like she went the extra mile with this one.

"What--" For a long moment, all Jack can do is stare with his mouth hanging open.

"What the hell," he says finally. "How did I forget today was my birthday???"

Rapunzel's surprise quickly turns to laughter.

"Oh my god, how did you forget?"

Easy for her to say. Back when Rapunzel lived with her crazy mom, who practically kept her a prisoner in her own house, birthdays were easily the most interesting thing that happened all year. Birthdays with the Overlands were always much more...lowkey, so to speak.

"In my defense!" He holds up his hands. "Nothing interesting happens when you turn 26. Pretty much all the milestones are finished, so it's just another orbit around the sun."

"Nonsense!" Rapunzel sticks her lip out in disapproval. "That's no way to talk about your coming-of-age ceremony!"

"Coming-of-age?" He raises his eyebrows. "I think we missed the cutoff for that a while ago."

"Well, 26 is your age now." She crosses her arms, chin up defiantly. "And you have come to it. So therefore you have come of age."

He chuckles. "Is that how that works?"

"Why not? Teenagers and college kids shouldn't get to have all the fun!"

"My point still stands, though," he argues. "You don't really...unlock the same kind of stuff in your 20s that you do when you're younger. It's not like there are new magical adventures that you suddenly have access to when the clock strikes 12 on your 26th birthday."

"Says who?"

His girlfriend's conniving smirk sends a wave of excitement through him. What is she plotting?

"Did you find an elite 26-and-over club to join?"

"Not exactly." She leans over the table, smirk widening. "But someone did have a chat with your boss about how many great snowscape photo opportunities there are in the mountains, and how you're going to need to not come into the office for while to get all the best shots."

Jack's eyes widen as her meaning dawns on him. "And Mr. North was cool with that? Me taking a vacation right before the holidays?"

"I mean. He could hardly resist the offer of having his best photographer out getting festive snapshots for the December issue of the magazine. You'd do more good on the field than stuck behind an editing desk, right?"

"No kidding."

Jack sits down, getting ready to blow out the unexpected birthday candles. He pauses, something occurring to him.

"Wait, what about you? I'm not about to go off and leave you to handle the bakery's holiday rush on your own!"

Rapunzel hums thoughtfully.

"Well, funny thing. I told our head baker that I just hadn't been feeling very inspired lately. And if I went somewhere, say, fresh and exciting, then the muse was sure to strike again and I'd pump out a collection of the most beautiful winter cakes the bakery's ever known. Ones to really send that holiday profit flooding in."

"So...you snuck around and got us both a week off for my birthday by spinning it as a work trip? And on top of that, you just casually whipped out the most gorgeous birthday cake I've ever seen in my life?"

She nods, beaming.

"You're my goddamn hero."

He stands up and sweeps her into his arms, pulling her into a kiss worthy of being the Big Dramatic Finale to any coming-of-age film. All these years later, and it still feels like cameras should be spinning around them with rock music building into a triumphant crescendo.

Maybe that's cheesy, but to hell with it.

"Have I ever mentioned I'm in love with you?" he murmurs against her lips.

"I would hope so, Overland. We've been dating for 9 years now."

***

Half a hazelnut chocolate cake and two celebratory hot cocoas later, Jack finds himself being dragged toward the car in the encroaching darkness of 5:30 pm.

"Zel, what--"

"Come on! I booked us a night in a cabin, and we need to take off before the roads get icy. It's supposed to snow in a couple hours!"

"But what about--"

"I packed the car while you were at work." Rapunzel doesn't miss a beat. "Don't worry, I grabbed all your favorite sweaters! Your snowboarding stuff too. And the sleeping bags. And the cozy socks. And the snow chains. And the binoculars. And the sled. And the scarves."

He doesn't have time to form a reply before he's being bundled into the front seat and covered in one of his favorite fluffy blankets. The sheer amount of alpine field guides and brochures on the car floor make him do a double take.

"You have an itinerary?" he asks, surprised.

She hums uncertainly as she pulls out of the driveway.

"Well...nothing too rigid. No coming-of-age road trip of self-discovery can be that structured, or else it might get in the way of spontaneous epiphanies about who you truly are, right?"

"Right."

Rapunzel looks like she's about to burst open with what she isn't saying.

"I sense a 'but' there."

"I did find a really cute place for us to sled." The dam breaks as Rapunzel pulls out of the driveway. "And there's this secluded little mountain animal rescue we have to see. And this four-star cafe we can stop at for hot cider and soup, and this really pretty snowy hike that I don't think is too tiring. Also this ski and snowboard slope we can check out if we have time, with this really cozy lodge, and--"

She cuts herself off mid-sentence as soon as she picks up that all this might be a little overwhelming.

"Buuuuut," she amends slowly. "It's not like I've put down a deposit for anything. We could just drive through the mountains and stop whenever we feel the urge. Find the best secret spots and have them to ourselves, you know? Have deep conversations and be alone with nature and reconnect with our humanity and our sense of purpose. Or something like that."

He can't help but laugh at the way her brow scrunches as she goes deep into thought.

"That sounds great."

"Do you...have a preference?" She gives him a searching look as they pull onto the freeway, already glowing with streetlamps and taillights. "Agenda or no agenda?"

"Whatever you're down for, I'm down for. Hell, I'm just happy to have an unexpected week of vacation."

"I guess that's the thing about these types of 'finding yourself' stories. You kind of have to figure them out as you go along."

"Then let's do some figuring!"

Rapunzel hits the gas, and off they go into the winter sunset, bound for their next coming-of-age adventure. One to perhaps be followed by many more, depending on how many future ages they deem it significant to "come to."

***

Tfw you keep aging but The Blorbos™️do not, so the only logical solution is to force them to age with you XD God dammit, if I have to be in my mid-20s, then so do my comfort characters!!!

Fr tho, I often find myself wishing there were more aged-up AUs in the RotBTD fandom. Most fandom olds returning to (or who stayed in) the fandom aren't the teenagers we were when we first got into the big four anymore, so...why not let them grow up with us??? It's not like their canon ages are some sacred, set-in-stone thing that can't be changed since people do in fact get older as time passes ajdnlshbf

And like!!! Don't get me wrong, I love a well-done high school or college AU, and they can be a lot of fun!!! But I think as I've gotten older I wonder more about how the RotBTD kids would navigate adulthood, and how they would change/adapt and how they would stay the same throughout their lives.

Jackunzel I feel like would be one of those couples who would just be it for each other. Like they get together in late high school--probably junior or senior year--and everyone keeps waiting for the spark to die in college and for them to get stir-crazy (as people who get into committed relationships young often do) or bored of each other, and they just. Don't. MFs hit 30 and are still in the honeymoon phase with no sign of getting out XD

Rapunzel is so right here btw. Twenty-somethings DO deserve to have indie coming-of-age dramas made about them!!! Kids and teens and college students shouldn't get to have all the fun!!! Besides, there's plenty of growing/maturing still to do in young adulthood, so why stop writing stories about that just because the people in question are out of school??? Tbh I'm so tired of movies with adult protagonists being either fluffy (hetero) romcoms or a drama about Some Guy with a wife and kids like??? There are other types of adults besides straights in the dating pool and middle-aged people with tidy little nuclear families!!! I promise!!!

Guess I'll just have to write all those funky little RotBTD twenty-something AUs myself ajshdkuys

Shout-out to the RotBTD discord for giving me the idea of having Rapunzel be a cake decorator and Jack be a photographer! I sometimes struggle a bit with future career ideas for the RotBTD kids, but these fit really well :D Jack definitely seems like the kind of person who would like something freelance and loose-scheduled where he basically gets paid to capture the beauty in the world around him :O And we know Rapunzel can bake, and she likes art, so...

CAKE ART CAKE ART CAKE ART CAKE ART

VERY happy I found that snowflake-and-orb cake, because that definitely seems like something Jack would enjoy 🤍❄️ And now I kind of want to try it 👀👀👀I DO have to wonder how they did that little picture with the tree and the car :O

As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request!

#jackunzel #jackunzelmonth #jackunzelmonth23 #moodboard #aesthetic #jack x rapunzel #rapunzel x jack #jack frost #rapunzel #jackxrapunzel #rapunzelxjack #rotbtd #rise of the brave tangled dragons #the big four #tangled #rise of the guardians #rotg #crossover

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00towns · 2 months

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ty track: taeyong's first solo concert and seoul 2/22 - 2/26

i debated writing this because it has always felt very silly to me to read people attempting to do serious reviews of kpop shows, which by nature can feel like very silly things, but after this show what kind of fan would i be if i were to still fall back on the cheap excuse that it wasn’t anything serious, artistic, and worthy of review? i also told close to no one that i was going to korea for the weekend – my nerves for the trip were too high to withstand so much inquiry, so if i lied to you, i’m sorry, but please read anyway.

it was a weekend of kismet: i wasn’t scheduled to teach on the head or tail end, it was a long weekend holiday for the emperor’s birthday, it was the day(s) of the solo concert, and it was my 24th birthday on saturday. all the signs were pointing towards seoul, so on a random thursday i dipped out of work three hours early and almost broke into a sprint on the way home. i arrived in seoul past midnight, ate a shitty pyeonuijeom meal, and crashed in my airbnb after bothering the neighbors to help me with the electronic lock.

the next morning, p and k surprised me with a birthday call with my friends from home. it meant more than they knew – birthday anxiety is an illness and i am not immune, and i was feeling slightly anxious about the trip overall. the size of my anticipation seemed to have gotten away from me, and i almost felt like i was setting myself up to fail for its sheer magnitude. an hour on zoom later, i could have moved mountains with my hands. love you guys, thank you for making something already special even more so <3

i moved through friday in a daze – picked up my show tickets from my mom’s friend, went to my usual bookstore, ate my favorite lunch, walked probably thirty thousand steps while waiting for some friends to get off work. i made it out to my favorite art museum to see a show on queer korean futures (loved) and on the problems of art museum practice (hated). the whole day felt like a snapshot of a seventeen year old’s saturday. perhaps the only thing that hadn’t changed at all was the squirming independence that moved my body torso-first through the city, a taste of something, an eternal appetizer. it felt a little ridiculous to be back in seoul, six years after living here last and about to watch the first solo concert of an artist i had loved even then. i thought about taeyong, and i thought about what was bringing us together again in this city. i thought about how far we’d come, growing on our own in that time.

at soundcheck on the first day of ty track, i almost expected something to cut to black when he started to make his way down the extended stage to where i was standing at barricade, but nothing did, and he just kept coming, so i waved, and he waved back, and he was really there in front of me. i’ve been able to see taeyong in show more than just a few times, but anyone could have told you this was different – he carried on his shoulders being a ten-year artist holding the first solo concert of entirely his original work and vision before going away for his mandatory service. it was also easily the closest i’ve ever been to any idol ever. being a head taller than most of the fans around me was a big favor too, and for most of the show i felt like we were staring each other down.

taeyong is an artist who has always known when to take himself seriously, and i feel like in the last few months in the leadup to this second project, he has absolutely locked in. the choices he’s made for this recent concert and project are seriously good, and he’s thought about it all in the context of his world, his discography, his upcoming enlistment, and the way that his fans have grown with him. it’s a much more sonically advanced project than i would have anticipated, exhibited by the fact that he could hold a solo concert with strictly self-composed and produced songs, many of which are unreleased and will remain unreleased until he returns in 2025, and still show out at the level he did. even in changes in demeanor, attitude, and poise through the unity shows in nagoya and osaka – he came to ty track knowing what he was showing out to do. the stage design, writing, pacing, and performance all screamed taeyong, through and through.

on the second day, i felt more relaxed going into the actual show knowing what to expect, but wasn’t prepared for how emotional i’d be when he began reflecting on his career, team, and life up until now. i don’t think anyone was – they prepared so much for him but by the end most people were in tears. i thought about how taeyong’s work and music have moved me for so long, and how easy that is to take for granted. i’m beyond grateful to have shared that moment with him, his collaborators, and a stadium full of people who have been touched by his work.

after the show, every attendee got a rose, after the penny sized scar on his face that looks like a flower in bloom. i thought about how the title of his first solo concert was from his first baby-faced official verse on an sm song back in 2014. i’ve been a taeyong fan since before we were even named taeyong friends, and the anniversary coming up this summer will make 8 years for me with 127. i’ve been so blessed to be able to spend so much time with them, especially over the last year since my move to japan (something about how the familiar will make itself clear). perhaps it is a bit silly to assign so much value to a kpop boy, and my relationship to kpop overall remains a bit complicated, but even as it waxes and wanes i’ve been thankful for taeyong’s music, talent, and thought. i’m grateful to have grown with taeyong and 127, and to have felt myself mature from someone deep in the swamps of teenage obsession to an adult fan who can cheer him on and be cheered on by him from whatever distance and time. thank you, taeyong, for ten years of artistry, hard work, and sincerity. i’ll see you in 2025 <3

‘tap’ the second mini album comes out tonight at 6PM KST!

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likeapray3r · 4 months

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Yesterday we went to the museum together. On the drive there we debriefed on how our holiday had went and then the long list of kids we went to school with who are now popping out children. Of course got lunch before, we went to a Cuban restaurant around the corner. Talked for 2 hours while we sat in this loud restaurant—both of us unaffected by the noise. There is no way else for me to say it but I love talking to her…it hasn’t always been easy for me to keep the ball rolling as a conversationalist but with her I love to be there and engage for hours and I think she does too. It’s almost scary how the 5-6 years of no contact between each other never caused a true separation. I think, if anything, we’re more alike than ever now. It is almost scary how many coincidences we share between us. She feels like home to me. I have never met anyone else I’ve ever felt this particular way about. At the museum, we explored separately and together, and I couldn’t help but always find her in a crowded room without even trying. Sometimes it’d feel like a movie scene— a couple in between us holding hands and kissing in front of a hand made quilt with inscriptions all over it, suddenly leaving and all that was left is ourselves. “Hi” is all I heard from her once they left. I can feel her following near and I know when I’m near she can sense the same. To be connected with freedom. We spent hours at the museum of course looking at all of the art until the screws on our heads go loose. After we sat in a tiny theater watching a thinkpiece from a Puerto Rican artist we headed off to the gift shop —a man who was in the theater with us followed to tell me I was beautiful and that he’d seen me in the theater…I was aware of someone in the room with us but I never saw a face until then. I wished she’d say it to me instead. Though he was kind. She pointed out the narwhal children’s book to me—when we had met in 8th grade I had an obsession with those unicorn whales and I guess she remembers it still. I purchased two books on Puerto Rico, a photography book from a Puerto Rican artist and a book on the history of Puerto Ricans in Chicago. She told me in the elevator that she’d been having weird dreams, I said the same, but without her knowing of the fact that she’s come to me in my dreams fairly often for the past weeks. I wonder what she dreams of. In the car ride home we talked about the Palestinian conflict. Turns out we’ve both sobbed to ourselves about devastation and loss ever since October —we hadn’t connected till mid November. She makes me feel less alone. We proceeded to talk for two more hours in my car parked outside of her mom’s house, where Star Wars Christmas decorations lay in the front yard (I love Star Wars). We’ve even read the same book on self care for adult children of emotionally immature parents. I love her passion. I love to look into her eyes when I talk. I love to see every expression that comes across her face. My connection to her has never been the surface. She gets me and I get her. I think we surprise each other in that way. If I could I would spend the rest of my life making sure she’s safe and taken care of. She’s so capable within herself, I know, she’s done it this entire time without any major cracks in the foundation. I just have this innate desire to be a rock in her life—one that is there with good reason. My love and admiration ascends this plane of existence. Can she feel it? I’ve kept it all to myself—I wonder what she keeps to herself.

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keefwho · 7 months

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September 28 - 2023 Thursday

10:40pm

I didn't journal last night because I was up late chatting with Daisy.

This morning I had a hard time decided breakfast but I picked my last sausage pattie in a hamburger bun with a side of rice. My diet has been pretty non-varied lately so I'm trying to remember to eat something as different as possible every meal aside from my usual chicken dinner but even that might get changed up.

Stream didn't go so well. I just couldn't figure out what to work on. I'm sort of idea burnt out right now. In the past I would have been tired of the process but I feel like I can draw forever. Its just coming up with interesting ideas I actually want to do and not just the same poses and scenarios over and over. I ended stream very early, only about 30 minutes in. I also had to use the bathroom pretty bad. I felt bad about ending but also I knew that I honestly needed a break. I still do I think. I've been so focused on creating ideas that I haven't been taking in any information. I'm reverbing in my own brain. I need some fresh content to go off of.

After stream I honestly can't remember what I did. I somehow managed to kill a couple hours by doing actually nothing. Maybe watching a Twitch stream, maybe working a little bit on my room scan, and trying to find something to clean. Eventually I decided to fellate myself but I probably shouldn't have, I ended up not being very into it and because of that it took about 40 minutes.

Lunch was a few chicken fries, fish stick, and a macaroni cup. I had been looking forward to working on something while watching a stream on the side. Instead I had joined Eggs server and she showed up along with a couple of her friends. It was a nice call for the most part. Some of it was her friends nonstop narrating their OSU gameplay which rotted my brain but that stopped. For a bit it was just me and her and we share mutual feelings about being glad we bumped into each other for similar reasons. She was sort of isolating after a friend group break up and I also have very few social connections. I had been working on a halloween pic of Adora for Daisy in this call. Egg and her friend were watching and complimented me a lot which was nice, they really like my coloring brush. When I was done with the pic I left.

I felt terrible for Daisy today because of her finding out her insurance doesn't cover mental visits and also she had a bad day at work. Thats part of the reason I did the halloween pic. I didn't mean to get the whole thing done today but I thought it would make her feel at least a little better. I don't think I play myself up enough because that pic only took 2 hours. I think a lot of artist wish they could draw something so complete in that time. At this point its normal for me so it doesn't feel like anything special but I should take pride in being able to crank something out like this when it's needed.

After a little stream watching Daisy and I played Zelda together for just a little bit before her mom got home. When she hopped off my friend Will messaged and reminded me that we had planned to hang out in VRchat tonight so we did that for a bit. It was cool catching up with him even though I forgot about the plans and didn't quite feel up to socializing with someone I hadn't talked to in a decade. It was worth it though. We got him an avatar and showed him my cabin before getting crashed at a Black Cat.

Daisy and I chatted before bed as usual while I'm been Twitch gambling. I'm running another room scan alignment tonight and hoping it goes better with new settings. I dont want to settle for a lame result.

Its nearly time I try to figure out a new plan to self therapy. I've just stopped for a bit to regroup because everything kinda stopped working. I got too focused on certain things and at the same time not focused enough on others. I wasn't very coordinated in general, so much so I can't even describe exactly what the problem was. Just that I was so scattered. Whatever I try next will be more structured and focused.

I've naturally been better about feeling secure in my relationships. It might only be temporary but I've been aware of how miserable and harmful it is to not trust in my close bonds. Especially when I'm given so much reassurance. Sure I have legitimate reasons I end up feeling like this but it's still so goofy. Sometimes I just say fuck past experiences and so called trauma. I want to be happy and at least sometimes I can be.

#journal #diary

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dzpenumbra · 2 years

Text

10/25/22

Welp, I finally pulled the trigger and smoked for the first time in like... a week or more. The time passed went real quick. I guess I still have most of my tolerance because I was using the tincture at night, but the high with that is suuuuper subtle, very different. I'm definitely feeling it, even though I only smoked like half a hit tonight. Didn't wanna get obliterated. And I smoked a mix of the two hybrids. So it's a nice kinda energetic but still glowy kinda high. I'm still pretty sleep deprived so I wanted to play it "safe", I'm noticing that I'm much more prone to freakouts when I'm stressed and sleep-deprived.

But I feel good right now, which is overdue and earned. I started the morning with a text from my dad, who has been giving me advice on my business by quoting Warren Buffett and Richard Branson (I think?) to me. You know, two very well-known successful self-employed solo multimedia artists... Not two elderly billionaires...

Apparently the problem with my art business is that I am bad at "marketing and communication". Not that I have no social media presence, no friends, no clients and literally no one even asks me what I'm working on or shows half an interest in my libraries of past projects. And the worst part, I said this to him verbatim. Maybe a 2 page text is just too fucking long for people to read and retain the information. Maybe they just skim looking for key words, something that confirms their biases. Then they start writing their own 2 page thesis to complete the cycle. What a waste.

I was on the fence about reopening this can of worms. It's clearly not good. I just start the day with a critique of my life. Not with questions to learn more details, not with offerings of assistance or contribution, but with unsolicited criticism and analysis. Like my life is an interesting article he found and wants to study until it bores him. He's not the only one I've known that's done this, a lot of people do this. It's... well... it's decimating. It destroys your sense of self-worth, it makes you a paranoid wreck, you start questioning your own perceptions of reality. At least I do. But I'm a very romantic, imaginative type, so... maybe I shouldn't speak in generalities, but if you're anything like me this is what it does.

I got a bit upset. I asked him what he was offering. He withdrew, saying he was just going to offer his theories, and then ran off to lunch and essentially hung up on a text conversation. I couldn't be fuckin bothered, I went about my day. But I left a message there that I might send him an unsolicited critique of his business, see how that goes over sometime.

Ugh. Enough of that, lets go on to something more positive - drugging my cat and bringing her to get her blood drawn. Yay! So... I got Max her meds after the text stuff. Put it in chicken. She was really doped up in the AM, like... wobbly on her feet, barely awake, bumping into things. It's always hard. With Cerry it was easier to just go "yeah, she's just really high right now" because Cerry was much more laid back and bubbly. Max was just... fucked up. And clearly very fucked up. Like I was afraid the dose might have been too high. But yeah, kinda went a little helicopter parent with that one. We did have some fun with it eventually. But I got the meds to her around the time window needed. I got her to the vet. She was great, barely even flinched or pulled. Got the blood first try. It went great. I got some stuff for her gingivitis to put in her food, even more supplements. I'm sure she'll get used to it in time.

We got home. My mom and I talked in the driveway for like... an hour or something. It was helpful, she's on the same page as me now on a lot of stuff, and it's really helping me not feel batshit crazy. When everyone just treats you like "oh making art is easy", "oh starting your own business with no help and no friends is easy", "i have no idea why you would be struggling with this", "you just need to try harder" Stupid, ignorant, lazy, ill-informed shit like that. When you get nothing but that, you (well... I) start to question reality. I wrote it on my whiteboard like 2+ years ago in red ink - Stockholm Syndrome.

I think it might be one of my big blindspots. Where I kinda just default to "well they probably know what they're talking about, I should defer to their judgment". Like "doctor's orders". I don't know how to define it... but if I'm surrounded by the deprecating opinions of someone that I consider a friend - someone bonded, who I trust and defer to for perspective - then I often start questioning my own perspective, in an effort to grow, optimize and improve. And I just sorta absorb their contradicting information, assuming truthfulness, because what reason would anyone have to lie to my goddamn face? Why would anyone put on the mask of a friend, lover or family member and use that costume to lower my defenses and earn my trust - only to hide their true self, and use it for their own personal amusement?

Maybe I'm naive, maybe I'm a dreamer. But I feel like a big part of being a good person yourself is to give others the benefit of the doubt that they are works in progress as well. That we're all constantly in flux, and learning every day. Well.... at least we are all capable of growing and working on ourselves every day. I truly do believe that. My faith is rooted in it. That even a wild coyote or shark has a heart, and is capable of learning. Okay... well a shark might be a good analogy for the shit I must be missing, because I'm looking at that again and going... well... a shark is always going to be a shark...

So with wild dogs, totally, you can get them to come around. I believe that about domestic dogs too. I try really hard not to question my faith with that. I'm sure with some they're just so deeply traumatized that there's really not much left there... so that I'm really not sure? I guess I'm just not personally experienced with that level of extreme first-hand? Or maybe I am? I don't know. I'm really trying to keep an open-mind across the board on this one. So... what about wild cats? Like a mountain lion or something? Can you domesticate those? Can you expect warmth and affection, bonding out of those? I mean... I've seen panthers cuddling with dogs and people before, I think it's well within reason... So the further down the animal kingdom we go, the tougher it gets. Bugs and shit it's like... I don't know how much there really is the bond with there...

But people, we're all in the same group, and we're all way up at the top as far as complexity of bonding and cognitive function. At least, as far as we know. So... we should all be much more capable than sharks or cats to learn how to coexist and adapt. To learn and see at very least at a survival level that being a good friend, good mate and good family member - keeping that relationship in good standing - is mutually beneficial to survival. Power in numbers, safety in numbers. There is a biological imperative to take care of eachother, at a core level. So I really don't know how people can just... have that shut off. Or voluntarily turn that off. I don't know. Maybe some people have that function impaired? I guess that's a theory of modern psychology? Genetic mutation, or chemical imbalance or something? I imagine if that is the case it would have to be phenomenally rare. But maybe the population boom is making those statistical anomalies more visible? I don't know anymore, it's all so complicated.

So maybe my whole thing of just having faith in the goodness of people is a coping mechanism to keep me from thinking about the evil of people. To not even entertain the thought, because of how horrifying it is. And how you can just turn into a paranoid wreck who trusts absolutely no one in the drop of a dime, and have mountains of evidence to reinforce that decision. Maybe having faith in the goodness of man is the only thing that keeps me from running off into the woods in like Alaska or some shit and just never coming back. Just hanging out with dogs and cats and racoons and foxes and shit, exploring the woods, collecting stones and elk and moose antlers. Making art and recording music. For who? Oh... there it is.

I guess we're going full circle. Let's really think about that. If I were on the North fucking Pole alone, in a bunker, for 20 years. Knowing full-well that no one would have any contact with my work until the time was up... I would still make art and music. And write. Constantly. As much as possible. And collect stories and memories. Memorable moments in video games, like when me and my friend Reaper made a bridge to drive a giant drilling rig across a canyon in Space Engineers, and I flew my Pelican shuttle backwards right in front of him so I could guide him across because he couldn't see the wheels and needed to have them perfectly lined up or else the whole thing was going into the canyon. Like making an Apothecary Shop in Minecraft creative mode with Chisels and Bits, and putting actual animated fluid bits into the little potion jars and making glass display cases full of them. Like a Rimworld colony I had way back when Sparkles (my builder) and the other builder (I don't remember his name) had spent so much time building together that they fell in love and got married, and it warmed my heart so much! Memorable moments in life, like when I went hiking at the river and came across a Red-Tailed Hawk that was on the ground for some reason. He flew up to a broken tree trunk that was like... 12 feet tall? And just perched up there and eyed me for a bit. I just stood there with him, probably... 5 yards away? Barefoot, sleeveless tee, backpack on, just staying still and sharing the space with him for a few minutes until he decided to move on.

To me, life is all about these moments. And capturing and cherishing these moments. Even the bad ones, unfortunately, in their own way. And I really feel like even if I were tossed in a rocket and blasted off to a moon base for the rest of my life, I would be doing this. I would be making a garden in my head and tending it regularly, waiting for inspiration to bloom. And when it inevitably does, to capture it to the best of my abilities. And bring it into the world, like birthing a child. I see that as my purpose, as a human. The purpose of my life. And I think I'd really be doing it no matter what circumstance you put me in. Like Picasso said --- okay, it's not what I thought it was. See, in college I was taught that the quote was like... if you put me in jail, I would paint with my own blood. But maybe that wasn't him? Or maybe someone misquoted? The actual quote is:

"We artists are indestructible; even in a prison, or in a concentration camp, I would be almighty in my own world of art, even if I had to paint my pictures with my wet tongue on the dusty floor of my cell."

So yeah, I got lost in reading quotes there. I'm kinda saying for like the third time that this life kinda just keeps choosing me. And a few years back, I stopped fighting it. It worked very well for me in college, I was very prolific. I just needed the right facilities, company around me to keep me sane during grueling 10+ hour marathon painting sessions, and some form of loose guidance (wasn't really necessary, honestly). A few years back, like 6+ months after my breakup, I really just... really decided to stop trying to superimpose a new life on top of mine. I stopped trying to just cram myself into a 9-5 formula and mold myself into what "society" wanted me to be. I went the other direction. I tried to engineer custom careers, relationships, workflow, all of it around what I naturally tend to gravitate back to. To stop fighting my natural impulses. To discern between primitive impulses (like wanting to smoke, wanting to have sex, being hungry, wanting to distract myself) and creative impulses. To be a bit more deliberate and mindful of the way I use these things, rather than just doing things for the sake of doing them. Which has never really been my style at my core, but society can teach a lot of nasty habits.

So I started to be deliberate about when and how I smoke tobacco, what I used it for. That one took the longest and was definitely the hardest. Sex has always been pretty easy to control, especially in isolation and having a very deeply strong link between physical and emotional feelings. I feel like... a really big part of being present in your life, is not just being on autopilot or doing things because it's what you're supposed to be doing. Like actually actively engaging with things and... well I guess that would make me a fan of mindfulness. I hate how people just... fuck with words and add subtext to make them "lame" or whatever.

Actually chewing and tasting your food, paying attention to the flavors and the textures. Not rushing to chew it as fast as possible and get it the fuck over with so you can get on to your next thing that you're going to get over with too. Slowing the fuck down and being in the moment. I try to live in that place. The Now. And people who are frantically trying to generate money, or consume "content", or rush rush rush to the next thing on the agenda? They would claw the fucking walls screaming if they were in my life for like... an hour. Tops.

So... I would consider this life "work". Considering most people choose the safety and security of a 9-5 and that kinda shit. And I seem like I'm oddly built for it. So I've been leaning in to it. And I've made some of my best work by leaps and bounds because of this. I am eternally grateful that Past Me made the decision to reconnect with all of the best parts of his past, and revive them. Create a home for them. It's the foundation on which my life today stands.

I'm still trying to figure it out, of course, how to make it work financially and everything. But it'll come together in time. Once I find people who believe in what I do, and want to experience my creations and share them with others.

Wow, all that off of a convo with my mom. It clearly went well.

Me and Max spent the rest of the day laying low. I was going to smoke during the day... for the third day in a row... and blew it off. "I don't want to be high in case Max tries to jump off something and hurts herself", "I don't want to cook when I'm high", "I don't have any media that doesn't have potentially dark content to play in the background while I'm playing Minecraft". So I just put off smoking until before this. Still a bit more paranoid than I'd like, half a hit isn't gonna fuck me up so bad that I burn my house down... that's paranoid shit and I don't like it. But yeah. That's just kinda where I was at today.

So Max is doing much better, she's walking more naturally now, much more alert. Almost wanted to play a bit towards bedtime. And we'll hear back on the blood results... whenever they get back to me, probably a few days.

Big day, get to catch up on sleep now. This was a hell of an existential tangent tonight, thanks for taking the ride with me.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of consciousness #spilled thoughts

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readyourimgaines · 4 years

Text

Age Doesn’t Mean Much

Summary: Five times the BAU remembered Reid’s younger than them plus one time they were violently reminded he’s not a child.

Spoiler/Trigger Warning: The entire ending of the second season’s 15th episode: Revelations.

Dr. Spencer Reid was merely 21 when SSA Jason Gideon convinced him to join the BAU. With the exception of Aaron Hotchner (who had also read the young doctor’s file) the team wasn’t sure how to feel about the inexperienced man.

Other than giving a pointer or two to a professor lecturing on a cold case, Reid had no experience working in the field. The others figured that was why the poor kid pushed himself so hard: to prove himself.

Right after the first case, Elle stopped talking down to him. Half way through the same case, Morgan decided he’d taken the doctor under his wing. JJ was the first of Hotch’s subordinates to warm up to Reid. Their friendship was an awkward one for a couple of days. To an outsider, it looked as though a childhood friend was trying to help the other through a bout of amnesia.

Though the team never again questioned Reid’s ability on the field, there were times when they were suddenly reminded of Reid’s age.

1: Trying to Balance on a Curb While Walking

Hotch lost count of how many times Jack would walk on the curb, one foot in the front of the other, both arms outstretched for extra balance. Almost always, one of Jack’s hands would be firmly holding one of his father’s. SSA Hotchner almost laughed at himself when he nearly held Reid’s hand on instinct.

Reid and Hotch were walking alone to get lunch for the unit while between cases back home. They’d been walking side-by-side while Reid babbled happily about the last book he finished. Hotch contently listened, his mind occasionally wondering.

Hotch’s mind was pulled back to reality from one of its wonderings when his hand had brushed against Reid’s. The doctor’s hand quickly formed into a fist as he concentrated on his balance, his lips pressed tightly together. While Jack had his arms stretched straight out, Reid held his at more of a slant.

One thing Hotch quickly noticed, and was surprised the scientifically minded doctor missed, was that Reid’s ever present satchel was throwing him off balance.

“Reid.”

“Hm?”

“Let me hold onto your bag.” Hotch held his hand out to take the leather bag.

“Why?” Reid’s foot touched down on the road as he lost balance now that he was doing more with his brain than focussing on his footing.

“It's a hypothesis.” Hotch smirked but Reid missed it, not taking his eyes off his sneakers.

Carefully, as not to fall, Reid removed his satchel and held it out, blindly, for Hotch to take. The older agent held it by the shorted of the two handles as he continued to walk alongside Reid.

Hotch chuckled to himself upon seeing the look on Reid’s face. The young doctor was looking at his feet, almost in awe. He hadn’t needed to touch down since Hotch took the bag half a block back.

Once he walked two blocks on the curb- without losing balance- Reid was content and took his bag back, putting it back over his shoulder so the pouch of it bounced against the opposite hip.

“Did you know the position of an object’s center of gravity affects its stability? The higher the center of gravity is, the easier it is for the object to fall. That’s why a small boat- like a kayak or canoe- is less likely to tip if the occupants are seated lower in the boat.

“Textbooks usually demonstrate this with either a bus and or two cars of different heights and lengths…”

2: Mismatched Socks

One of the first things Emily Prentiss noticed about Reid were his mismatched socks. Of course, the other BAU members noticed it too, but they never questioned it. It’s just part of who Reid was. Curiosity got the better of SSA Prentiss.

“Reid?”

The doctor looked up from his case file. “Yeah?”

“Why do you never wear matched socks?” She looked down at Reid’s ankles and he followed her gaze. One lavender sock, one pink with blue stripes.

“My uh- When I was a kid, my mom would tell me it was bad luck to wear matching socks.” Reid pulled the lavender sock back up to where it should be.

“That doesn’t sound like something that could be scientifically verified.” A slight smirk spread across Emily’s face.

Reid huffed slightly. “The night I was taken by Tobias… It was the first time I wore matching socks in five years. Burgundy with orange stripes.” Reid blinked heavily, clenching his eyes shut. “I don’t wear socks if they match.” He paused again. “Besides, matching socks are boring. Some people say socks should be a shade darker than their pants or a shade lighter than the shoes- Hotch does the former.

“Also, 82% of men in my age bracket wear mismatched socks at least once a week because we keep losing one of a pair. And a family of four- on average- loses 60 socks a year.”

3: Playing With Jell-O

Reid loved Jell-O. No-one was really sure why, but didn’t ask, either. Everyone had their favorite dessert, so maybe Jell-O was just his? He liked cake, sure, but he didn’t eat it nearly as often as he ate Jell-O.

On jet rides back home, no-one ever knew what conversations were bound to come up. This week’s was what the team was going to do with a three day weekend and morphed into best desserts.

“What about you, Reid?” Prentiss drew Reid from his train of thought.

“Hm?”

“You like Jell-O, don’t you, Pretty Boy?” Morgan checked.

“Yeah.”

“Not even Henry likes Jell-O,” JJ smiled at the thought of her young son.

“It doesn’t have much of a taste,” Rossi added.

“I think that’s part of why I like it, actually.” Reid fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

“Because it tastes like watered down Kool-Aid?” Rossi frowned.

“Yeah. All the other foods are so strong and Jell-O’s not. It’s cool, but not cold, and it’s fun to play with.”

A ghost of a smile danced across Hotch’s face. “Jack likes playing with it. He gets sad when I don’t buy finger Jell-O on accident.”

“That’s the only kind I buy.” Reid nodded. “The red is my least favorite- It takes like Red 40.”

“What is your favorite kind, then?” Rossi couldn’t help but ask.

“Pineapple. Minimal amounts of dyes and you can see through it.”

“No numbers about Jell-O?” Prentiss challenged with a grin.

JJ, Hotch, and Morgan all smiled while Rossi teasily groaned. The groan got a smile from Reid too.

“Actually, in the US, the Jell-O brand is recognized- by name and product- by 99% of the populous.” Spencer chortled. “That means that if you got a group of 100 people together, only one person would have no idea what Jell-O is.”

4: Doodles on Everything

Dr. Spencer Reid didn’t always carry his leather satchel with him. Hotch more or less ordered him to get a notebook he could keep in a pocket. The unit chief didn’t care if Reid drew on his arms. The unit chief cared when Reid jotted down notions or points for the running case.

Garcia loved Reid’s little doodles and had a decently sized collection. She referred to him as a “chronic doodler”. The analysis tech found it almost funny that someone as brilliant and talented as Reid had so little artistic skill outside of his geographic profiling maps.

Reid knew full well that Garcia collected his doodles. After a particularly stressful case- which always resulted in more doodles, Reid would sign and dare the flip book page before tearing it out and leaving it in Garcia’s bunker.

There were times when Reid would doodle on his arm rather than the flip book simple because it was more convenient. That didn’t mean Garcia didn’t see those ones. No, no, no. These ones, Reid would take pictures of and send to Garcia when a case was getting to her.

Morgan talked to Garcia more than anyone else on a case. Whether or not Penelope voiced her unease, Morgan- ever the profiler- could tell. He’d have Reid a certain look and the younger man would send Garcia texts of his doodles- evenly spaced- throughout the case. If he did the math and found he didn’t have enough, nothing stopped him from drawing a couple more.

Hotch and Gideon thought of the times their sons would draw a picture or make them a card when they had a bad day at work. Morgan was reminded of the beaded bracelets his sisters used to make him when he was injured in football or his team lost a game.

The one hitch with their theory? Garcia was the one person who got to keep the drawings. Not even Reid kept them. She knew this fact and gloated about it to the team whenever she got a new one. All of her computer screens in her bunker had a different doodle as the screen saver.

5: Dependent on the Team

For the most part, the BAU stuck to themselves after hours if they weren’t going out for drinks. Reid was the one exception and the rest of the team found they didn’t mind.

JJ was the first one he texted. The message was a simple worded question: How can you tell the difference between romantic feelings and transference? The gentle blonde took it upon herself to explain to the doctor that he’d know when he was in love because how being near the person or even just thinking about them made him feel.

The media liaison assumed she’d never really see the person Reid texted her about that Sunday evening. She was a little less than shocked to see the light in the young doctor’s eyes shift when Morgan wandered into the bullpen Monday morning.

A month passed before JJ got a message along the lines of the one she was expecting: Reid asking for advice on how to ask someone out. How to better the wording, how to keep from straying off the point.

The next day, he texted Elle about flowers: I have a date next weekend. Are flowers too forward?

Elle smiled down at her phone, at Reid’s innocence. She told him that flowers were a nice and caring gesture, but that he’d want to be careful with what flowers he got because different flowers sent different messages.

This was the first of this Reid was hearing. He thanked Elle and thought more. Hotch was married. He must know a decent amount about flowers and such romantic ideas, right? So he texted Hotch: Do you know anything about flower symbolism? Elle says flowers have different messages to them.

Hotch chuckled, getting Haley’s attention.

“What’s so funny?”

“Do you remember Dr. Spencer Reid?” Hotch looked at the blonde.

“He’s the shy, Autistic boy, right?” Haley glanced up from feeding Jack.

“Yeah. He’s nervous about an upcoming date and texted to see if I know anything about flowers.” Hotch’s thumb was dancing across the flip-phone’s buttons.

“What are you telling him?”

“That roses have the highest chance of getting him in his date’s bed. Pink camellias and carnations are signs of love and longing; ivy means friendship.” Hotch typed this by naming the flowers, placing an equal sign, and the meaning.

“Do you know who his date is?”

“Not as far as Reid and his date are concerned.”

So yes, he did.

Friday morning- the morning before his date- Reid sat by himself on the jet ride home, trying to read a book he brought. He couldn’t focus on it for the life of him. He’d been staring at the same page for then minutes. He jumped a little when Gideon sat down across from him.

“What has you so nervous?”

“Noth-” Reid stopped short. That wasn’t the right word; the date meant everything to him. “I uh… I have a date tomorrow evening and I’m worried, I guess. I’ve never actually been on a date, but I really like this person.”

“Okay. So what about it has you worked up?” Gideon’s eyes were gentle and fatherly.

Reid thought about how to answer the question. “We’ve been friends for a while and I don’t- I don’t want to mess up so badly that he doesn’t want to be friends-” Reid froze, his eyes wide. “G-Gideon, I-”

“There’s nothing wrong.” The older man squeezed the younger’s shoulder. “If your friend know you as well as you know him, I think it’s safe to say he’s not too worried about the friendship failing. Sometimes, Reid, you have to take a leap of faith.”

+One: “I choose...Aaron Hotchner.”

“Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will.”

“No.”

Click. “Choose.”

“I won’t do it.”

Click. “Choose.”

“I...I choose...Aaron Hotchner. He’s a classic narcissist. He thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4, “Let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense.”

Bang. Raphael took a bullet from Tobais’ pocket and held it up, showing it to Reid. “For God’s will.”

Morgan’s heart shattered at seeing his boyfriend crouched over the body of his captor and tormentor. The side of Reid’s head was coated in dry blood, he was avoiding putting weight on his sock-less foot.

Reid limped his way over to Hotch and hesitantly put a hand on his superior’s arm as though he wasn’t sure the man was there. The young man quickly and tightly hugged Hotch.

“I knew you’d understand.”

JJ was the next to hug Reid, the doctor losing his balance slightly and the liaison easily caught him.

“I am so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

The second JJ let go of Reid, Morgan stepped forward and pulled Reid into as tight of a hug as he dared. He needed to feel his boyfriend in his arms but he’d seen the same video as everyone else and didn’t want to hurt him more.

Prentiss was shocked and looked at JJ with wide eyes when Morgan kissed Reid and the doctor eagerly reciprocated. The blonde just smiled.

*****

@stxrryspencer @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @the-need-for-reid-speed

#read your imagines #combefere's journal #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #david rossi #elle greenaway #jennifer jj jareau #jason gideon #derek morgan #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #moreid #moreid imagine

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strangerays · 3 years

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Nothing in Particular Update #1

Hello, hello!! It’s been a really long time since I’ve written an update for this story! (this is a real update btw, forget the “first” one I had) To be honest, I haven’t been able to work on this story as much as I would like, being busy with classes and... well just life in general. (what I mean by this is that Shadow and Bone was released on Netflix) But! I do have some excerpts I wanted to put out there as well as some overall changes to the story.

Before I start: here’s the actual link to the story synopsis/characters!

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-): @wannabeauthorzofija @a-completely-normal-girl @baguettethebooklover @corkytheguar @writeherewaiting @raenawrites

STORY CHANGES/IDEAS:

First off: I had to rewrite 30,000 words and basically turn it into 10,000. The first draft was icky, but I turned it into something I really enjoy! This is a sign that writing is always worth it!!

I added in a couple of characters! I was starting to feel like the story might not have been balanced enough. Luckily, the muse struck me and I created Mars and Theo! Mars is a lovely (and enigmatic) older woman that Ray meets at a bird sanctuary and Theo is a new friend of Lonan’s.

There wasn’t much action in the beginning of the story, so I wrote a confrontation between Jude’s friends and another person that Ray spies on. This is how she meets Jude, and I am in lovvve.

The timeline for the entire story might be a little bit longer than I intended! I went into this project thinking it might only take place over a month, but in order for Ray’s mental health journey to be realistic, I’m going to shoot for an entire school year (around six-seven months). Honestly, I’m just happy I get to write a Halloween scene. As for the word count total HAHA I have no clue what that will look like.

I think Lonan will be a bit of a back-burner character! At first, I was a little wary of this decision since he’s my favorite, but I think it would be very exciting to have Ray hype him up before he ever appears in the story. That way, the reader sort of starts to think about him in one way, yet he might be completely different when he finally shows up...??

Chapter titles are one of my favorite things about this story. Also! I am a huge fan of short chapters! They move the story right along.

I prefer to write slower and use other projects to balance out this one when I get a little tired of it. Over the last month or so, I’ve gotten really into short story writing again! This has been really helpful in working on my specificity and pretty prose. Even though the short stories don’t contribute to Nothing in Particular, I’ve been taking a lot of what I’m learning and applying it!

EXCERPTS (UNDER THE CUT)

CHAPTER ONE: THE SPY

During the summer between my sophomore and junior year, Lonan Herrings packed me into his Dad’s repainted Chevrolet, left his name sharp on his mother’s tongue, and drove to New York City at six in the morning. For the first time since we’d become friends, jealousy weighed our silence. He buzzed across the highway, even though we knew his mother had no intention of finding us.

“Which animal would I be,” he asked, “if I left tomorrow and lived in the forest?”

“Why would you want to do that?” I smiled even though I knew he was probably serious.

His shoulders squared and he looked out his window. Two men in the next car shouted at each other, their windows down. Something about a mortgage. “You would come with me, of course.” He turned to me. “Which animal gets along best with a doe?”

I shut my eyes to snap the cold. It might have been the fact that, most times, his gentle voice pulled ragged words from his throat, as if he had just stepped out of the rain after standing in it for hours. It might have been the way he cupped the rim of a camera with humble demure. I was never afraid to tell him anything in the patience that bled from him. His eyes were milky blue and he wore an olive jacket covered in pins that kept strangers interested. Since he seemed like he felt out of place most times, I never did. We were a grade apart; our friendship bloomed late. So long as I had a friend at all, I didn’t care how we’d met.

“You would be a blue jay,” I decided. For only a second, I’d been worried that I offended him, until his mouth curved to one side and he laughed softly, as though he wasn’t sure he was allowed. His head hovered over the steering wheel. A patch of freckles absently creeped over the bridge of his nose like winter weeds.

This first chapter is a flashback to exactly a year before the second chapter takes place! After an argument with his mom, Lonan drives out of state with Ray. I plan for it to be all we see of Lonan (in the present) up until the halfway point of the story.

CHAPTER TWO: I WAS QUIET

I was a firm believer that the best art was created when the artist was alone, angry, or depressed.

After Lonan secured his train ticket to New York, I was surprised to find that I became none of these things. We buried a time capsule, painted his walls cerulean, and drove two-hundred miles without a word to anyone. Some of my most colorful memories were unplanned in the beginning.

Katherine Herrings’ bakery loitered over the coast of town, sheltered in pitch crags and shallow tide pools congested with cigarettes. I often ate lunch on the deck on my break. She was the only person I knew who – after everything her nephew had said – didn’t make him the first topic of our conversations.

An indie rock song that I recognized buzzed from a radio below me. I pulled my tablet screen down and pushed my chair out so the plastic legs kicked up and scratched the backs of my legs. Slowly, I peered between my ankles, through the patio boards, and into the boat lodge below. Pumpkin-red hair plastered to my forehead in the heat that clung to the late days of September. Waves bubbled and crashed, peanut oil dripped from hot dog buns, and muffled gossip chirped like a family of cicadas. I bit my tongue at the bitter smoke that warped the wind.

Jude laughed then, and her shoulders tipped, haughty. Waves hissed in her silence as the lights in the kitchen behind Katherine flickered. Her mouth opened slightly at the ring of dishes and laughter that danced with each other inside. A moment passed before she took a wide step back.

Together, her accomplices waltzed after her as she ran down the pavement, flecking sand until the night’s blue air gulped their outlines. Katherine beat a towel against the patio leg, then she slid and locked the door. Frogs jeered in the silence that pervaded the sea.

I whispered the name back to myself so I wouldn’t forget it. Jude Ahuja. I took a sip of ginger ale, and she buzzed on my lips.

The story cuts to Ray’s senior year of high school. Summer has just ended, Lonan has left for college, and her camera is broken. Jude is a bit like a character out of a film to her, and she wishes she could know more about her after witnessing a loud argument with Katherine Herrings, Lonan’s aunt.

CHAPTER THREE: PEOPLE-WATCHING

Early into our friendship, I’d learned this patience. The first time he brought me to Sugarfell, he told me that all of the paths led back to the same place. As long as you played the game, you were guaranteed a prize. He didn’t speak much, but I knew he wasn’t a very good liar.

Less than an hour passed when I was met with silence. I crept up and down the same path four times. Each step sent a shock through my legs to my chest. The sun hadn’t risen to the highest point in the sky, still glimmering through tree branches in golden fractals, pulling on static darkness.

“Are you crying?” he asked.

I shook my head fast. “No.” My voice barely reached a whisper. It was a lot deeper than normal.

He puckered his lips as though I had offended him. “But you were about to.”

“You said that all the paths lead back to one another.” I stood up from the jagged stump and shuffled through the leaves until the tips of our shoes were inches apart. “I knew you’d come back. And you did.”

When I turned back, sore curiosity teased the emerald in Lonan’s eyes.

“Do you ever people-watch?” he asked softly.

This chapter is another really short chapter that I’m ultimately not sure I’m going to keep! I sort of included it by accident while Ray was riding her bike to the forest, but I ended up really liking it as a bridge into the next scene. Hopefully, I find I way to make it fit!!

CHAPTER FOUR: SUGAR-COATED

Years with Lonan had prepared me for being alone. If you spend any long amount of time with someone, you’ll become a thief to their behaviors. Lonan observed too much. If I stared long enough, trees began to replace all of the people we’d ever seen. Oaks with roots that serpentined the ground like children splashing in the bay, pines with needles like spindly old hands, maples with hollows like watchful eyes.

I did remember, but I couldn’t then. Blood gushed too close to his eyelid and dripped down his cheek like tears. There was a grace period in my life – likely when I was a newborn – when I couldn’t picture what my blood would look like on the light side of my skin.

And this is where I’ll leave off on the excerpts for now! I’ve been really focused on taking my time and setting things up before the next chapter, which is going to have lots more action in it. Things are going to start picking up again, so I’m really excited for that!

Thanks for reading if you made it this far :)

#nothing in particular and everything #my writing #writing updates #I was so so so #SOOOO #nervous about this one bros #I'm having a difficult time deciding what to share and what not to share #but I think I did an okay job #anyways #excited for the next scene I'll be writing #UPWARDS AND ONWARDS #<3

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allsassnoclass · 3 years

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Hazel! Can I submit ““i got you for secret santa so i got you this really expensive but sentimental gift that you’ve always wanted, hoping you’ll never find out it’s from me - and that i’ve been in love with you 1234567 years” for lashton??

as you wish my dear

Ficmas Day 2

Rating: teen and up

Read on AO3

Ashton knew he was screwed the moment he picked Luke’s name out of the hat for Secret Santa, but it doesn’t fully hit him until the night before the last day of school before break. They’re going to exchange gifts once all of the students leave at the end of the day, and Ashton has to admit that he went a little overboard.

He’s supposed to wrap and bring one gift. He has six.

“Hey, Calum,” he says once the other person picks up the phone. “So. I’m in a bit of a pickle.”

“Why?” Calum asks, voice tinny and almost overpowered by Michael’s very loud singing in the background. He gasps. “Ash, tell me you didn’t leave Luke’s present until right now. There’s no way I can help you with less than 24 hours to go.”

“How do you know I have Luke?” Ashton frowns. “Have you been snooping?”

“No, but I saw your face when you drew the name.”

Ashton sighs. “Fuck, do you think he knows?”

“Well, he’d have to know that you’ve been in love with him since he started at the school, and we both know Luke is not self-aware enough for that. You can’t drop hints with him, because he won’t pick them up. Remember when we all went to eat and the waitress was tripping over herself to flirt with him? He didn’t even notice.”

Ashton remembers that night well. It hadn’t been the first time a stranger tried to chat up Luke, and just like every instance before Ashton had to tamp down his jealousy. Luke is an attractive and appealing guy. He can’t fault other people for noticing that too and shooting their shot.

“That doesn’t help my crisis.”

“Which is…?”

Ashton glances at the presents sitting on his floor with wrapping paper next to them.

“Can you come over?” he asks.

“You didn’t get him another dog, did you?” Calum asks dubiously.

“Of course not,” Ashton says. “I’m not an idiot Calum. Dogs aren’t surprise presents. I just… still may have gone a bit overboard on this one.”

“Overboard how?”

“I have six presents and I need you to help me choose.”

Calum sighs.

“I’ll be there in five minutes, and I’m bringing Michael.” He hangs up before Ashton can protest.

Great. Now instead of being subject to Calum’s quiet judgement, he’s going to have to deal with Michael laughing at him, too.

They find him sitting on the floor of his living room, wrapping paper tube in hand but no closer to figuring out what he’s doing.

“Hey,” Calum says, sitting down next to him. Ashton grunts. “Walk me through the presents. Let’s see what we’re dealing with here.”

Michael flops down on the couch behind them.

“Well, I got him a cookbook, because I saw it at the store and know he wants to start cooking for himself more, plus it says they’re easy. But cookbooks are so bleh, so I made a donation to the shelter he got Petunia from in his name, but I don’t want to show up and have him be the only person who doesn’t get to take something home with him at the end of the night, so then I started thinking about how he’s always late so I got him this personalized watch with his name and an engraving on the back, but I don’t want him to take it as something passive aggressive so I got him a framed artistic map of his hometown since I know he misses it, but then I thought that’s lame because he can get a map anywhere, so I called up his mom and there are these rings that you can get thumbprints engraved on so I worked with her and got one of those with her fingerprint because I know he misses her like crazy, but that’s way too much and I wasn’t sure if it would arrive on time so I got one of those books of affirmations and personalized a few for days when he feels bad.”

Calum gapes at him. Michael pats him once on the head.

“I think you should just fuck him for Christmas.”

Ashton groans and buries his head in his hands.

“Shut up, Michael. No one asked you.”

“I’m just saying!”

“Ashton,” Calum says slowly. “We are teachers at a public school. There was a $20 cap on the presents. How much did you spend?”

“Um,” he says. “If the cookbook was paperback it might have been less than $20.”

“Well,” Calum sighs, “at least you aren’t the economics teacher.”

“If you fuck him, it would be free.”

“Shut up, Michael!”

“Babe, stop antagonizing him.”

“But I’m right!”

Calum gives Michael a look that makes him sulk off to the kitchen, probably to eat all of Ashton’s ice cream.

“Okay,” Calum says. “You can’t give him all of that in front of everyone. He’ll definitely know you’re in love with him, and it’s not fair to everyone else getting smaller $20 gifts. Wrap the cookbook and give him the rest later.”

Ashton grimaces.

“Luke deserves better than just a cookbook, though. He’s…”

“He’s what?”

Ashton has known Luke for three years and is still no closer to figuring out how to describe him. He’s an English teacher, yet all words fail when he thinks about the math teacher who’s classroom sits down the hall. It makes him want to read more Shakespeare or Browning or EE Cummings to see if someone else can say it better than him.

Luke is a breath of fresh air when he’s been underground too long. He’s flowers in bloom, meteors visible from Earth, and rain when the sun is still shining. He’s incredibly grumpy in the mornings when he comes in to work, but always gives Ashton a smile. He gives his students pop quizzes but doesn’t count them towards their grades, only uses them to see what concepts need clarifying. He has his students complete logic puzzles for extra credit and brings snacks on Fridays. He has stupid rhymes and songs to help people remember formulas and they actually work. Ashton had never seen a group of students truly excited about math until Luke joined their staff.

“He deserves better than a stupid cookbook for his present.”

“Meet him later to give him the rest,” Calum says. “Unless you want everyone else on staff to know you’re hopelessly in love with him, too?”

“You don’t,” Michael calls from the kitchen. “If you think I’m bad, you have no idea what Sierra is capable of. When she found out I like Calum, it was brutal. Hey, do you have any chocolate sauce?”

“You were no help tonight. You don’t deserve chocolate sauce,” he calls back. Michael appears in the doorway with a bowl and spoon, distressed.

“I said you should fuck him. If you need different advice, then do what Calum says. He’s smart most of the time.”

“Aw, thanks,” Calum says.

“Most of the time,” Michael emphasizes, brandishing his spoon. “You’re still stupid for liking the lesser science.”

“Please don’t start that again,” Ashton says. “If you two start arguing about chemistry and physics I’m kicking you out. I know it’s foreplay for you, and that makes it weird.”

“Well, Michael and I do have a lot of chemistry together.”

“Nice,” Michael says. “We should use my lever to shift your center of mass.”

“I hate you both so much,” Ashton groans.

“You’d hate us less if you had a boyfriend of your own,” Michael says over his shoulder, already heading back to the kitchen.

“That’s not the point,” Ashton says. “I’m not trying to get a boyfriend right now. I just… I don’t know. I want him to have nice things.”

Calum clasps his shoulder, giving him a small shake.

“You’re a nice thing, too.”

Ashton buries his head in his hands again.

“Hey. He’ll love his cookbook, and if you give him the rest he’ll absolutely love that, too.”

Something crashes in the kitchen.

“I’m going to go check on him,” Calum says. “Give Luke the cookbook. Ask him to meet you later so you can give him the other presents. I’ll be right back to help wrap them.”

Ashton nods miserably and unrolls the wrapping paper.

-/-

Ashton wakes up the next day with a headache already pressing against his skull. Calum and Michael had stayed late the night before, helping wrap the presents and then poking at him until he agreed to play a few rounds of MarioKart with them. Halfway through the first race he remembered that he still had papers to grade that he promised the students would be done before break, so he moved his grading to the living room and listened to Michael and Calum trash talk each other and the cheesy music of each course. Nothing managed to fully distract him from the presents sitting in the corner, though, and even when he eventually went to bed he spent most of the night tossing and turning.

The kids are always squirly the day before a break, but the lack of sleep only makes his patience shorter. The end of each class period brings a sigh of relief for everyone, and he relishes in the few minutes he gets where he can relax instead of teach as long as he doesn’t dwell on the impending gift exchange.

Not even seeing Luke this morning and having lunch with him had managed to ease some of the tension pressing against the base of his skull. He can’t fully enjoy his company when he’s the source of his problem.

When the final bell rings, Ashton wishes he could rush out of the building with the students, but instead he puts his classroom back to rights, monitors the hall for a few minutes, then grabs his present and heads to the staff lounge.

“Hey,” Michael says, sliding up to him after he deposits his present on the middle table. “How’s it going?”

“I’m shitting bricks,” Ashton says. “And I slept like shit because you and Calum didn’t get out of my house until midnight.”

“Relax, dude. It’s Luke. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Ashton doesn’t say he could hate my present and then hate me or he might figure out that I’m hopelessly in love with him. He shrugs. Michael snorts, then promptly forgets about Ashton as soon as Calum walks in the door. Luke walks in right behind him, so Ashton pretty much forgets about Michael, too, because Luke is wearing a red button up and black slacks and his hair is a big curly mess. His math classes seem to be perpetually bursting with activity, and Ashton loves seeing the transition from grumpy and put-together to beaming and unkempt throughout the day. Luke is the only person he knows who gains limitless energy from his students, always bouncing after the last class instead of exhausted by a full day of work.

Ashton doesn't have a chance to greet him before Principal Feldman walks in, promptly starting the gift exchange since "so many of us will be happy to go on break and there are a lot of us to get through." He takes it upon himself to start passing out the presents. Ashton joins along with everyone else "oooo-ing" and "ahhhh-ing" at each gift, but he's too distracted to try to help people guess who their particular Santa may be.

Michael gets a stapler and a gift card to an office supply store because he keeps misplacing his desk materials. Calum gets a shirt with a chemistry pun from Anne in the office. Ashton ends up getting a small care package from Calum with some bath bombs, chapstick, and a scented candle because Calum says he needs to learn how to relax more. Ashton is just happy it wasn't another mug with a book pun on it, because Calum likes sending him pictures of those whenever he runs across one but Ashton already has too many to fit in his cupboard.

Luke is one of the last people to open his gift. He comments on the cute snowflake pattern on the wrapping paper then tears through it, flipping the book around to fully read the cover.

"It's a cookbook!" he enthuses. "I need this. Who knew I needed this?" He looks around the room, lighting up once he locks eyes with Ashton. "Ashton! Is it you?"

"Yeah, that's from me," Ashton says.

"Thank you!" Luke beams. Feldman quickly moves on to the next present and Luke opens the cookbook, pursuing the pages instead of paying attention. By the time everyone has their present and starts to filter out of the lounge, Ashton has been doing breathing exercises to ensure he doesn't psych himself out. Michael pats him on the back when he drags Calum out, which does less to encourage Ashton and more to ignite his nerves, but he's not about to let the other five presents he has go to waste.

"Hey, Luke," he calls. Luke pauses in his tracks, stepping to the side to get out of the doorway and let the rest of their coworkers pass. "Can you stop by my classroom? There's another part of your present I need to give you."

"There's more?" Luke asks. "Ash, the cookbook is already amazing, I don't need anything else."

"Don't you want to know what it is?" Ashton asks.

Curiosity wins out over any lingering politeness. Luke eagerly follows Ashton out the door and through the halls to his classroom. It's tucked into a corner, which Ashton likes because it means he has a lot of windows, and he's been there for long enough that the walls are covered in posters, quotes, pictures, and some particularly striking student works. Four boxes and an envelope sit wrapped on the desk in the same snowflake wrapping paper.

"Are all of those..."

"Yeah," Ashton says. "I got a little carried away."

"Wow."

"Here." Ashton hands him the envelope. "Start here."

Luke tears open the flap as messily as he tore open the wrapping paper earlier, pulling out the donation receipt inside.

“This is the place I got Petunia,” he says.

“I know.”

“Thanks,” he says. “I try to donate to them every year but… thank you. They’ll be able to do some good with this.”

Ashton clears his throat. “You’re welcome. Here’s the next one.”

He unwraps the map next.

“I know you miss it,” Ashton says. “There’s some star stickers in there, too, if you want to mark important places.”

Luke’s eyes glitter with memories as he looks over it. He gasps and turns the frame towards Ashton. “Here’s my house! Right there. And then over here was my school, and the movie theater…. Sorry. You don’t want to listen to me go on about this. What’s next?”

Ashton could listen to Luke tell him stories about his hometown all night, but he’s looking expectantly at him and there’s still three presents sitting on his desk.

He tosses him the watch next. Luke fumbles when he catches it. Ashton is extremely thankful that it’s packed in the box well and won’t break, especially when Luke shakes it.

He laughs when he sees what’s inside.

“I get it. I won’t miss our lunch dates anymore.”

“Sure you won’t,” Ashton teases. “There’s an inscription on it, too.”

Luke takes the watch out of the box and flips it over.

“‘Education is our passport to the future.’”

“‘Education is our passport to the future,” Ashton recites, “for tomorrow belongs to the people who prepare for it today.’ Malcolm X.”

“Appropriate,” Luke says. “Thanks.”

He puts the watch on, struggling a little with the clasp. Ashton reaches out and helps, careful not to make it too tight or too loose. Luke’s wrist is soft beneath his fingers, a patch of smooth pale skin covering his pulse. When he finishes, neither of them move away.

“It’s wonderful, Ashton. Thank you,” Luke says. “I’m going to wear it every day.”

“It suits you.”

Luke gives him a smile that sends Ashton reaching for another present before he does something uncalled for like lean forward and try to kiss him.

“This one’s for bad days. It’s not much, but I wanted you to have reminders of how amazing you are.”

Luke rips off the paper and softens like butter once he starts flipping through the book of affirmations.

“A lot of them are generic, but there are a few personalized ones in there, and all of them are true anyway.”

“Ashton, this is too much,” Luke says. “This is insane. You went above and beyond Secret Santa.”

“Well.” Ashton scratches the back of his neck, the feeling of a blush prickling under his skin. “I can’t exactly return them since they’re personalized. I kept seeing things that made me think of you.”

“Thank you. I don’t--” he laughs-- “I don’t know what to say.”

“Save it until you get your last gift. Then you can judge them all.”

The last box is the smallest, but it’s heavy with a phantom weight. Ashton went above and beyond for this one, going so far as to contact Liz when he’s only talked to her a few times before, and Luke is either going to think it’s sweet or creepy.

“It’s small,” Luke says, testing the feel of the box in his hands. He glances up at Ashton before taking off the paper, then again when he sees that the box is a ring box. Ashton holds his breath while he opens it, wanting to spare himself from seeing Luke’s reaction but not able to look away.

The silver ring glints in the light, a thick band pinched between Luke’s fingers so he can look at it closer.

“What…” he trails off.

“I talked to your mum,” Ashton says. “The engraving on the outside is her fingerprint. I know you miss her, and this way you can have a piece of her with you all the time.

“I can’t accept this,” Luke says. “It’s too much.”

He tries to hand it to Ashton, but he closes Luke’s hand around the ring and pushes it back towards his chest.

“It’s personalized,” he says. “It doesn’t mean anything to me, so you need to keep it.”

Luke briefly looks down at the ring again. When he meets Ashton’s gaze, his eyes are glistening.

“You’re going to make me cry,” he laughs. “Sorry. Thank you. So Much.”

He reaches for him, and Ashton’s thankful that Luke seems to fit perfectly in his arms.

“I can’t believe you got all this for a stupid Secret Santa,” he sniffs when he pulls away.

“You deserve it,” Ashton says earnestly. “I kept seeing things I knew you would appreciate. Guess I got a bit carried away.”

“A bit,” Luke teases. Ashton smiles. Luke’s teasing is a different kind, always giving the impression that it’s somehow an inside joke between them instead of Luke laughing at him.

“I have something for you, too,” Luke says. “I know I wasn’t supposed to, but if you got me so much I feel better giving you this one thing.”

“Oh?”

Luke reaches into his messenger bag and pulls out a book. Ashton can tell what it is even before Luke hands it to him.

“Leaves of Grass,” he says, running his hand over the vines and leaves adorning the hard cover behind the gold leaf of the title.

“You said you wanted another copy since your old one is full of annotations.”

“You didn’t have to do this,” he says, tracing the swirling script of Walt Whitman’s name.

“Okay, Mr. I-got-a-billion-presents-for-my-Secret-Santa. I wanted to give you something nice.”

It’s a thought Ashton has had thousands of times during his own gift-buying process, and that’s what compels him to finally ask “Do you want to go on a date with me? We could go to dinner or a movie, maybe ice skating or something more festive?”

“I thought you’d never ask!”

Ashton grins, smile threatening to split his face in two.

“Maybe not ice skating, though,” Luke says. “I’m all legs and no coordination.”

“Dinner, then,” Ashton says. “Do you like Italian? I could pick you up next week.”

“I love Italian, and getting picked up.”

“Good,” Ashton says. “Great!”

“Great!”

Ashton knows his smile is verging on dopey, but it’s okay because Luke has the same stupid-happy look on his face. Luke’s phone rings and shatters the moment, but Ashton can’t even be that upset when Luke takes a few steps away to answer, glancing back with immense fondness and answering the person on the other line with vague and distracted noises.

“I’m so sorry,” Luke says when he hangs up. “I have to go. I promised Sierra I’d help her with some last-minute classroom things.”

“That’s okay,” Ashton says. “I’ll call you.”

“Okay,” Luke smiles. “Please do. I mean--yeah. I’d like that.’

“I will,” Ashton says. Then, because someone has to be responsible and get Luke out the door instead of locked in a staring contest, he stacks Luke’s gifts and passes them off to him.

“Okay. I’ll see you later! On our date!”

“See you, Luke!”

Luke stumbles on his way out the door, too distracted trying to look back at Ashton. He’s right: he really is all legs and no coordination.

Watching him leave with his new book in hand, Ashton thinks that he got the best gift of all this year.

#my writing #lashton #5sos fanfic #ficmas 2020

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ghostbustermelanieking · 3 years

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oddly specific memories i have of listening to tma

in honor of the finale, and because i am a sentimental asshole, i bring you this potentially uninteresting and completely pointless list. i'm gonna miss this show a lot

half my original reasoning for listening to the podcast was to motivate me to walk on the treadmill. this did not work. but i did it the first time, when i was going through the trailers and anglerfish, and i remember the room where my dad keeps the treadmill is really dark and the spooky chanting sort of freaked me out

after the treadmill, i ended up listening to the bulk of the first four episodes on the couch, and halfway through i let my oldest cat, winnie, who always lived outside (i know, i was very against actually keeping her outside) in the house. and she jumped up on the couch with me, which she literally never did. (she was very grumpy and not super affectionate.) i had that cat since i was five, and she passed last june, and i really miss her. quarantine kind of gave us the opportunity to hang out with her a lot, because we were home so much. so i'm glad these memories are kind of intersected in my mind. (below: a pic i have from that day.)

my friend sarah relistened along with me the first time around, which was extraordinarily sweet of her, and also led to some interesting interactions. for example: she forgot when it was revealed that sasha was dead, so she accidentally spoiled that for me when i asked when the others would find sasha (and i spent all of season 2 just like. anxiously vibrating over this fact). she also made this post, when i was still in like early first half of season 1, and my immediate thought was "oh no martin is dead." i hadnt even MET martin at this point

back in early quarantine, my mom had this rule that we had to do something new every day (to keep away the depression... ha ha). anyways, all i wanted to do in my free time was sit around and listen to tma (and also watch this show i was into on netflix), so i came up with some lame excuses, one of which was "i'll give myself a pedicure." this led to the memory i ultimately associate with mag 56 (trevor herbert 2) being me sitting out on our roof balcony thing, giving myself a horrendous pedicure

another time, my family wanted to go play tennis, and they brought me along and brought a hammock for me to lay in. there was this excess material from the hammock, and the sun was in my eyes, so i ended up pulling it up and over me to block the sun and creating this ridiculous hammock cocoon thing. one of the episodes i listened to that day? "tucked in."

before i ever started the show, my friend sarah stayed with me while i was pet sitting. i remember when she got there, she'd just listened to 150 and was telling me how freaky it was (she was still trying to get me into the show), and she was like "of course we're staying on a CUL DE SAC." (that was also the weekend she watched us for the first time and was very upset because i slept through the whole thing, which is scary when you're staying somewhere by yourselves.) anyways, i spent the whole show waiting for the scary cul de sac episode

while i was listening to the show for the first time, my step-dad (an artist) started painting an EYE on the door downstairs near my bathroom. a fucking EYE. he didn't finish it til i had finished the show. but still weird!!

i binged like 12 episodes in one day to finish season 4, which is not impressive at all, but it's still my personal record. i just remember staying up late in my dark bedroom (til like.... 11 i'm lame and i go to bed early), listening to like 158 & 159 & 160 and just being knocked on my ass by how good it all was... i was SUPER spoiled by this point, through my own fault, and i knew exactly what was coming, but actually experiencing it was nuts

the second week i listened live was 167, where the public release was delayed by a couple hours by accident. i spent like 20 minutes refreshing spotify, thinking it was broken, before going on tumblr and seeing what the deal was. (and 167 remains one of my favorites of s5 because i remember just going "thank god it was worth the wait.")

this one car ride where sarah and i made some of our friends listen to the first three episodes of the show. it was the middle of the night and we were just like blasting down i40 listening to anglerfish and do not open etc

the night the what the ghost episode publicly dropped was the night after my graduation, and i was sleeping out on the couch in the living room so my grandfather could sleep in a bed. it was super dark, and i am a jumpy person, and i Remember being mildly disgusted with myself because the corny sound effects were actually freaking me out. (i think i mightve actually seen something weird that night, maybe, but that's another story.)

the weekend my parents moved me into college, we couldn't get the cable in the house we were staying in, and we were all sitting around doing nothing, so i jokingly suggested starting tma with them, and they were like ok grace. my step-dad promptly fell asleep and my mom zoned out -- which is probably good, she doesn't like horror and she's super claustrophobic, so it's probably better we never got to do not open

my brief roommate in college talked about how she was into those youtube channels where people just read scary stories, so of course i was like try tma out. so she listened to the first episode on her own, and we were out one night, and she started mag 02 while i went into an ice cream place. she was into it (she kept being like open it, ya pussy) and wanted to keep listening while we went home, and even back in our room. i had only been in town for a couple weeks, and barely knew my way around, but i also didn't want to turn the gps on and be interrupted every five seconds. so i tried to find our way back on my own. it took the entirety of mag 03, and into mag 04, before i did it. so now i will forever associate across the street with all those wrong turns i took in a dark, semi unfamiliar city, trying to get back to our college without a gps

the day of the early drop for 179 was the day i moved back home from college -- a five hour drive by myself. i ended up listening to it on the final stretch of the trip, when i was super tired and it was dark and i knew it'd probably be a crazy episode. just me full blasting down i40, drinking an energy drink (which i never do) through a hole punched in the top, listening to daisy's death

186 early dropped the day after initial u.s. election day (when we still didn't know anything). my mom had set up a "watch party" in the living room with these giant air mattresses, and we all sort of spent the day crowded around the TV watching the numbers. not much of a memory, but i remember sitting on that air mattress and listening to martin's monologue in the midst of that messy week

i had a virtual therapy appointment on the day of 187's early drop, and my dad was home, so i drove to an empty parking lot to do the session in some privacy. i was trying to listen to the episode before the session started, so i ended up listening to the last half sitting in my car, in the pouring rain, just staring at my radio in shock (187 remains one of my favorite s5 episodes)

my friend sarah had just come home for winter break the day 189 dropped, and we decided to listen together, just like driving around in circles drinking coffee and listening and speculating on whether or not that was really martin

i started my relisten right after thanksgiving and was just kind of blowing through fast as i could through the whole of december. i had to go back to college to empty out my dorm, and i went to the beach after, and i ended up listening to mag 11 while just like walking around in circles in the tide pools. the closer it got to christmas, the more christmassy i wanted to keep things, so i would like. listen in the mornings and turn on one of those Netflix fireplaces and get all cozy

my other friend went with me on a mini bagel road trip in december, and he was still trying to get caught up, so we listened to mag 169, 170, and 171 on the drive home. (by this point, i was accustomed enough to s5 and smiting scenes to automatically reach for the volume controls when jude perry and jared hopworth died.)

when i relistened to mag 47, i was sitting with my cat beezus. i paused the episode to write this big long meta, so i was in a different headspace when i pressed play again. jon immediately yelled for sasha and i immediately jumped, and beezus gave me a searing glare and just got up and left

i relistened to piecemeal while i was cooking, which i thought was kind of funny and also disgusting

after christmas, i got into the habit of bringing my cat georgia into my room in the mornings, and she'd crawl under the covers with me while i listened to tma

one story i've always liked to tell from my first listen is how when i first listened to the meat arm grinder episode, my dad asked me to help him cook hamburgers later that day and explained how hamburgers are ground up (to my disgust). i hit meat grinder in my relisten and um. you'll never fucking guess what i made for lunch that day

so i had all these arbitrary rules for myself when i started tma last april, and i've broken like all of them. i started listening to tma while virtually working -- you just pull it up on your computer and it works. (i got the life scared out of me when one of my coworkers started talking over the podcast, wondering who it was that had walked into jon's office and why he wasn't reacting and why i didn't remember it.) i also started listening a lot while driving, which led to several long meta posts i wrote being typed up in a parking lot somewhere

i spent the entirety of 194 anxious-cuddling georgia. (i tried to do this for 198 and then didn't have any anxiety to cuddle her over.) i fully plan on doing this for 200, where i am sure i will need it again

my favorite place to listen to tma probably ended up being the roof room at my mom's, and unless something goes awry, this is where i will listen to the finale. (with georgia, of course.)

this list is super uninteresting, like i said, but here it is. i'm gonna miss this show a lot. i can't wait to return to it, later in life, and make all new listening memories in the process

#the magnus archives #personal #food mention tw #pet death tw

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bluewhale52 · 3 years

Text

The History of Us - Ch. 25

Synopsis: You have built your career and you have 2 rising hip hop superstars as your besties. Life is pretty good, until one drunken night that derails your life plan. How would you survive?

Pairing: ?? x OC , main characters are mostly Namjoon, Yoongi and Tae, but all 7 are present now

Fic type: text

Word Count: 2.2k

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, fluff, angst, NSFW

Rated: R/ 18+

Warning: swearing, talk about sex and pregnancy, foreplay that includes breast touching/ massage

Disclaimer: photos are not mine, and of course characterization and scenarios of the boys are purely of my imagination

Masterlist | Next>>

Ch. 25 - Bombshell

3 May 2019, 06:30am

You sit at the edge of the bed, watching Taehyung sleep. Little snores escape his mouth, and his eyes twitch occasionally, and you wonder what he is dreaming about. His hair has grown longer now, and you have come to adore the soft curls that adorn his face. You smile at how much his hair reminds you of a King Charles Spaniel.

You brush your fingers over his hair, not wanting to leave just yet, but you know he is not going to wake up anytime soon. You wish you could just sleep in with him, but with the success of your best friends’ tour, you know there are a lot of things to do and plan for the rest of the year and even into the next year. You are determined to give them the world tour that you have promised.

With one hand rubbing your back (the back pain is becoming a daily occurrence, as all the pregnancy books and blogs have warned you), and one hand on the bed as an anchor, you push your 27-week pregnant body up. You gasp lightly when you feel a fingers wrapping around your wrist.

You sit back down and turn to Taehyung, who is blinking his eyes to rid away his sleepiness. His voice hoarse, he asks, “What time is it?”

“Early. Go back to sleep.” You gently answer.

Rubbing his eyes, Taehyung sits up and looks at the clock at your bedside. “Noona, it’s so early.” He blinks a few more times. “And you are dressed for work. Why are you leaving so early?”

“I have to leave the office early to get ready for that gala.” You answer, rolling your eyes. Hoseok has reminded you all week that he will be brining a stylist and a make up artist to your office at 4pm on the dot. “I don’t understand how I’d need three hours to get ready. I mean it’s just dress, hair and make up; I could do it all myself in under thirty minutes.”

Taehyung lies back down on the bed, chuckling. “Always so efficient, my darling.” He rubs your arm and yawns. How does he still look so handsome when he yawns? “I’m sorry I came home so late last night.”

You shake your head in understanding. “It’s ok, how was it by the way? Your bro-date with Seokjin?”

“It was good, I’m really glad we did that.” He rubs his chin. “It’s nice to have that one on one talk, you know?”

“Put your mind at ease?” You ask carefully. You know Taehyung has not been the most receptive having Seokjin in your and his inner circle, and you have been extra careful to keep the balance between your boyfriend and your baby daddy.

“Yeah,” Taehyung lets out a long exhale. “We talked a lot. And I think I needed that more than he did? I was being very honest with him, maybe I was being too honest, like I told him all the reasons why I didn’t like him.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Wow, and how did he react?”

Taehyung scrunches his nose. “I hate that I put him in a corner like that. But...” Taehyung trails off, you stroke his leg, encouraging him to continue. “I wanted him to know what he’s put me through. Although you know most of it is my own overthinking. That was so cruel of me, right? He doesn’t deserve that.”

“Yeah, that’s quite mean, Tae.” You reply in a low voice.

“But he’s such a good guy, Noona, like despite everything I said, he was still willing to listen and not retaliate at me. There are so many what-ifs going through my mind now he’s in the picture. He makes the effort to understand where I was coming from, in terms of you, us, the baby... he even bought me ramyeon.”

You burst out laughing. “Oh dear Taehyung, he knows your weakness.”

“Don’t tease. But yeah, we ended up eating ramyeon by the river, and then we just talked. I mean, really talked, and not about the three of us, but you know..” Taehyung runs his fingers through his hair.

“Like friends.” You conclude for him. Taehyung nods. “Well that’s fantastic, I’m happy, Tae.” You try to bend down to kiss him, but your pregnant belly is in the way. You pout. “Come up here and kiss me, daddy.”

Licking the corner of his mouth, Taehyung sits up and scoots closer to you. He wraps his big hand around the back of your neck, his fingers burying themselves in your hair. “You can’t call me daddy and expect me to just kiss you, darling.”

You sigh contentedly as he presses his lips against yours. “Maybe I want more than just a kiss.” You murmur. Taehyung hums as he continues to kiss you, then you abruptly pull back.

“So you’re good with Seokjin now, right?” You ask as Taehyung presses his body closer to yours, his lips start moving to your jaw.

“Yes, we’re good, darling.” Taehyung huffs as you push him back.

“OK, good, because it’s difficult for me to play mediator all the time between you two. And, Taehyung, stop it!” You squeal as his lips latch onto your neck and his hand sneaks up to cup your breast. “We’re not done talking about it!”

Taehyung is covering your neck with kitten licks, you have been very stern about him not to mark you on areas you cannot hide. “Hmmm, we can talk now,” he answers between licks. His hand is massaging your breast harder.

You moan his name as you feebly try to push him away again. “We always do this, when we need to talk, ah!” He sucks at your collarbone, interrupting you.

"We have the best talk when I’ve got my cock deep in you.” Taehyung mouths at your neck again. He glances at the alarm clock. “What time do you need to be in the office?”

“7:30.” You breathe out, voice thick of neediness.

“Good, shall we see how many times I can make you cum in thirty minutes?”

-------

3 May 2019, 13:20pm

You slurp another forkful of spaghetti bolognese as the door to your office opens. Namjoon and Seokjin walk in, followed by Yoongi who grimaces at your lunch.

“Noona, seriously, do you even eat anything else?”

You wipe your mouth. “What Little Miss wants, Little Miss gets.” You watch the three men standing around awkwardly before you. Something is up.

“Is everything OK?”

The three of them look at each other, before Namjoon speaks up. “About the gala tonight, there’s something you need to know.” He turns to Seokjin. “Hyung, I think it’s best you tell her.”

Seokjin rubs his face repeatedly. “OK, promise you won’t get angry, please.”

“We’re just here for moral support, by the way, he was too scared to talk to you.” Yoongi pipes in, earning an annoyed groan from Seokjin. You put aside your spaghetti. This is serious.

“Ok,” Seokjin takes a seat in front of you and inhales sharply. “do you know a Lee Yuri?”

You narrow your eyes. “Lee Yuri, whose father is in the National Assembly? Who works in my old firm and exists in this world to be my ultimate arch-nemesis?”

“I told you this isn’t good.” Yoongi whispers to Namjoon, who only nods sympathetically.

Seokjin seems to sink deeper into his seat. “Yes, and who also happens to be an acquaintance of mine...”

“He means fuck buddy.” Yoongi pipes in.

“Yah Yoongi!” Seokjin turns to glare at Yoongi angrily.

You look at Seokjin and your two friends questioningly, “Are we here to discuss about Jin’s horrible choice of a fuck buddy? Because Jin, seriously of all the women you can get, really? Lee Yuri?”

Seokjin shakes his head, his ears immediately turning red. “She’s easy, OK? One phone call and.. no, we’re not talking about that.”

You stare at Seokjin, still unsure where the conversation is heading. He takes a deep breath.

“I did call her last weekend, you know for... that purpose. But that’s not the point of the story here. The point is,” he hurriedly says before Yoongi can interrupt him, “the point is, she’s friends with the owner of that god-awful gossip site that we hate and whose name will not be mentioned here.”

Your eyes widened. Seokjin quickly continues. “She talks a lot after.. you know, and we kind of go way back, we went to the same high school and university..”

“Where Seokjin first became fuck buddy with her.” Yoongi comments.

You look at Yoongi. “Thanks for the information no one asks for, Yoongs. How do you even know..”

“He told us.” Yoongi gestures to Seokjin.

“Not important to what I’m trying to say, but..” Seokjin tries to continue.”Well her family is friends with mine and I think our moms once tried to set us u..”

“Hyung, focus.” Namjon places his hand on Seokjin’s shoulder.

“Right, OK,” Seokjin clears his throat and glances at you nervously, “so, she knows you work here now, and that you and me are business acquaintances, BUT she doesn’t know that we’re all friends.”

You hold your breath, waiting for the bombshell to drop.

“And last weekend when I was with her, she was asking a lot about you. As if she’s trying to dig some dirt on you.”

There it goes. You remember Lee Yuri as the ultimate queen bee in your old firm, a position she holds because people offer her gossips inside and outside work relating to her co-workers, in return of, well, you suppose her attention and being accepted into her clique. She uses her collection of gossips and hearsay to manipulate your co-workers, and even the bosses and the clients.

You remember exactly how you and Yuri became enemies. She wanted the Bulletproof account; at first she acted all sweet and charming but you saw through her. You saw how she wanted to account so that she could sell it to another investor, and you would not sacrifice Namjoon and Yoongi. Not being able to take rejection gracefully, she launched an salicious attacks on you. For two years, you put your head down and focused on Bulletproof. As long as your friends’ label was doing well, there was no reason for the upper management to remove you. It annoys you greatly that even after you were fired from your firm, she is still haunting you.

“We think she's the one who hinted at your being Joon’s baby mama.” Seokjin cowers.

You swear in response. You know Seokjin’s legal team is doing its job, they have scared the living daylight out of the gossip site for publishing such slanderous article about you and Namjoon. You know they can’t afford to go to court, so an apology is soon coming. And you trust Seokjin enough that he will not say a single word about you, or Namjoon, or anyone else in Bulletproof to that snake. So, this is not the end of Seokjin’s confession.

“There’s more isn’t it?” You ask the three men. You brace yourself for the final blow.

“She’s coming to the gala tonight.”

You close your eyes and exhale in defeat. “Seokjin, you gotta be fucking kidding me!”

“She’s a family friend! My mom curates the guest list! I just found out this afternoon that she’s coming! Please don't kill me.” Seokjin begs.

“Ok ok ok...” you take deep breaths. “This is not a problem, right? There’s nothing she can do even if she sees me at the gala.”

“No, Noona, you see, she hates- HATES- you. She was saying how you stole the Bulletproof account from her, apparently your boss promised to give it to her after you were fired. And then you came here and you took over yourself, leaving the firm and all that. She is out for your blood.” Seokjin explains hurriedly.

“Well what else can she do? That site can’t say anything anymore about me and Joon.”

Namjoon clears his throat. “Doesn't mean she can't tell the others, Noona.”

“She will purposely provoke you at the gala. So you have to be ready.” Yoongi sighs.

“And people will talk. They will talk and whisper behind your back. You have to be ready for that too.” Seokjin says apologetically.

“Is it going to hurt us? The label?” The four of you look at each other at your question. "You guys have great momentum after the tour, we can't afford to lose it over some gossip, guys.” You remind them.

Seokjin rubs his chin, “We’ll just have to play this to our advantage. We can get an interview with a respected unbiased journalist. We’ll just tell it as it is, let the truth be out there, anyone who tries to twist it will just be seen as petty or jealous.”

You gulp. “Tell it as it is? Including your identity as...”

“If we hide nothing, there’s nothing for them to dig.” Yoongi murmurs. Namjoon nods in agreement.

“It’ll cause people to talk, no matter how good the interview is. But... It’ll show how we are different than other labels. That we’re honest, and open, and most importantly we don’t judge.” Namjoon carefully says. “But whatever action we take in this matter, we take it only if all of us agree to it.”

You bury your head in your hands. Seokjin and Taehyung have just reached a milestone in their friendship. You and Taehyung are growing closer and stronger. You dare not think what would happen if Seokjin’s plan does not yield the result you all hope for. Your head is cloudy, you can barely think right now.

You look up at Seokjin, Namjoon and Yoongi. All three are fidgeting, waiting for your final call. “You all three agree to this? The interview option?” They nod.

“OK.” you breathe heavily. “OK. So what’s the game plan? Joon and Yoongs are supposed to attend with me. Would it be better now if they don’t?”

“I agree they shouldn’t go. Joon, especially you. It may just create unwanted attention.” Seokjin says. “Take Hoseok, Noona. Attending with the designer of your dress is the safest option.”

You nod your head, agreeing with Seokjin. “Does he have a suit?”

Namjoon laughs out loud. “Noona. He has one of every color.”

“Ok, that was a silly question.” You set your hands on your desk. “Ok. Ok. We’re doing his then?”

“Yes.” Seokjin answers with conviction. “And we’ll pray for the best outcome.” He sticks his hand out. You, Yoongi and Namjoon look at him quizzically.

“Are we doing a cheer or something?” Yoongi looks at Seokjin with a smirk.

“We’re not. Sorry Jin.” You stand up from your desk. “But I’ll tell you what we’re doing. We’re telling Taehyung and the rest about his crazy plan of ours. Let’s go, guys.”

You are about to walk out of your office when you suddenly turn around. Spotting Yoongi trailing behind, you ask him sweetly. “Yoons, can you get the spaghetti from my desk please? I’m still hungry.”

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cherryblossomflowers · 4 years

Text

An Old Life Meets A New (Pt2)

Pairing: Jensen x Daughter, Danneel x Stepdaughter

Warnings: Slight Cussing, Angst, Fluff, Death Mentioned, Car Accident Mentioned, Anxiety/Depression

Summary: After the recent death of her mother, Harper must adjust to her new life in the Ackles home, this includes a new stepmother, half-siblings, and reconnecting with her father.

A/N: I’ve had many requests to post part 2, so here we go!

*ASK OPEN*

**MAKE SURE TO COMMENT TO BE TAGGED**

Part 1

Chapter 2

While on the highway towards his home, Jensen thought now would be a good time to try and get to know his teenage daughter. He leaned over and tapped her shoulder. Harper jumped a bit and pulled off her headphones.

Jensen smiled and spoke, "Sorry, I didn't realize you were that jumpy. I don't remember you being like that."

Harper shrugged and sat up, figuring Jensen wanted to have a conversation.

Jensen continued, "So I thought we could play a game. It's still about 15 minutes until we get to the house. Maybe this will help us pass the time."

Harper nodded but refused to look towards Jensen.

"So the game is this: I ask any question and you answer, then you ask me a question and I'll answer. Sound good?"

Another nod from Harper.

Jensen smiled, "Okay now, let me think." He looked around before a light bulb went off in his head, "Music. What do you listen to now?"

Harper shrugged and quietly spoke, "Pretty much anything. Rock, Country, Pop, Funk. I don't really like Rap though."

Jensen chuckled, "Yeah Rap isn't my first choice either. I'm shocked you still listen to Country considering you haven't been a country girl in 5 years."

"7. It's been 7 years, Dad," Harper whispered.

Jensen’s eyes widened and he sighed, "I didn't realize it's been that long. Sorry," he cleared his throat, "Your turn. Ask me a question."

Harper looked out the passenger window, "When did you get the truck? Last time I was here you had a Jeep."

"Oh, I got rid of the Jeep. It cost more to fix than to get a new vehicle. And I thought having a truck would be something different," Jensen said while turning off the highway to an exit.

Harper saw the exit and suddenly sat up, "Wait you live like 10 miles from here. Why get off at this exit?"

"Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you that I moved," replied Jensen.

Harper looked over at Jensen, "It's, um, it's your turn by the way."

Jensen nodded, "Hmm. Oh, how about dance? Do you still do ballet?"

Harper rolled her eyes and looked out the window, "I haven't danced since I was a kid. I gave it up about 3 months after not hearing from you anymore."

Jensen looked at Harper, "Don't tell me you quit because of me."

Harper shrugged at him.

Jensen leaned back, "That's such a shame. You were such a beautiful dancer."

"Well, people change. They grow up and find new hobbies and activities I guess."

Jensen sighed, "I'm sorry, Harper."

Harper sighed and shrugged, "My turn. How's Supernatural?"

"Well, it's funny that you mention that. We just wrapped up filming for season 15, the final season."

Harper whipped her head to him, "Wow, I didn't realize you finished it. I thought you would be on the show for years."

Jensen laughed, "Well, we all agreed 15 seasons is a good stopping point."

Harper sat back, "I didn't realize you've been on the show for as long as I've been alive."

"Crazy isn't it? That's how I met your mom you know," replied Jensen with a grin.

Harper smiled, "I know. That was my favorite story she told. You were filming the first episode. She was a make-up artist fresh out of college."

"She added way too much foundation to my face on the first day."

"And she felt so bad because you looked like an Oompa Loompa on camera."

"So I told her I would take her to dinner as a forgiveness."

"And the rest was history," both Jensen and Harper said at the same time.

The looked at each other and started laughing. Tears were running down their faces from how hard they laughed.

Harper chuckled a bit and looked back at Jensen after wiping her eyes, "I haven't laughed that hard in a while."

Jensen smiled at Harper, "You probably won't really like hearing this right now, but you even laugh like her."

The smile immediately fell from Harper's face. She looked out the window again and sighed.

Jensen's smile fell too. He sighed, leaning back into his seat, "I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry."

Harper shook her head, "It's fine. I've just been hearing nothing but that stuff for a week. How I look like her, sound like her, act like her. It kind of hurts now that she's gone."

Jensen laid a hand on Harper's shoulder, "I won't do it anymore. And if I do by accident, you can call me out on it."

Harper turned to Jensen, "Thanks, Dad."

Jensen put his hand back on the wheel and turned into a neighborhood. Harper's jaw hit the ground at the size of the houses.

They were huge! They were at least 3 story homes with a guest house, a pool, and a huge backyard.

The last time Harper was in Austin, Jensen's house was a 2 bedroom, 1 bath small home in the middle of nowhere.

Now he lived in a mansion home!

Jensen pulled into the driveway of one of the homes. The first observation Harper had was the second car in the driveway.

Jensen must've read her mind, "That's Danneel's car."

Harper replied, "Right, I forgot you got married like 10 years ago."

Jensen chuckled, "I'm surprised you forgot considering you were there."

Harper was 5 years old. Jensen had his wedding in New York, and had Harper as his flower girl. Her mom was invited, but she felt weird about going and didn't show up. Danneel welcomed Harper as her stepdaughter, and at the time Harper was happy about the idea.

That was the first and only time Harper had seen Danneel.

With how things are now, Harper didn't feel comfortable being around Danneel. Though she is her stepmother, Harper knows Danneel cannot replace her biological mother.

Jensen put the car in park and shut off the engine, "Before you ask, Danneel is with Genevieve getting their hair and nails done. She won't be home for a few more hours."

Harper nodded, unbuckled her seat belt, and opened the car door. Once she stepped outside, she grabbed her backpack from the floor and shut her door. Jensen got out of the truck and walked to the back of the car.

He reached for Harper's duffel, but Harper beat him to it, grabbing it herself, "I got it."

Jensen nodded to her and walked towards his front door. Harper trailed behind, looking around at the house.

Jensen unlocked the front door and opened it for Harper. She walked inside and again her jaw hit the ground.

She thought the outside was big, but the inside? Holy shit!

Her eyes immediately fell to the open living room. The entire back wall was a window with a back porch and a beautiful view. The bright, royal blue sectional caught her eyes right off the bat. There were small pillows on the ground with two chairs next to 3 acoustic guitars. There also were glass ball lights hanging from the ceiling, and the ceiling had the rafters exposed, which was gorgeous. The artwork on the wall looked locally bought as well.

Jensen walked inside and shut the door behind him. He walked over and saw Harper's jaw on the floor. He laughed and closed her mouth, "You'll catch flies with your mouth open like that."

Harper shook her head and blinked, "Your house is so...big."

Jensen laughed again, "This is just the living room. Come on, let me show you your bedroom."

Harper followed Jensen past the kitchen area and the small bar, up the small set of stairs to a dining table and a fireplace. Past that was another couch with a large flat screen TV mounted on the wall.

A small hallway was to the left of this room. Jensen walked in front of her and opened the door at the end of the hallway. He turned to Harper and nodded his head towards the room.

She walked inside and looked around. Jensen walked in behind her and leaned against the wall. Harper walked up to the bed and dropped her duffel and backpack.

Jensen cleared his throat, "It used to be our guest room, hence the no decorations and the plain bedding. But if you'd like, tomorrow we can go shopping. Maybe even get you some new clothes-"

"I like my clothes," said Harper interrupting him.

Jensen was stunned a bit, "Oh, um. Alright. Well, why don't you unpack and I can make lunch? Are you hungry?"

Harper shook her head, "Not really."

Jensen nodded, "Okay then. Go ahead and unpack, rest up a bit. I'll uh, I'll let you be," and with that, Jensen left.

Harper looked around her new room again and sat down on the bed. Tears filled her eyes almost instantly. She reached into her backpack and pulled out a picture frame wrapped in a scarf, her mother's scarf.

Unwrapping the frame, she set the scarf aside and looked at the photo. It was a picture Harper took of her mother swinging on a rope swing from a tree. The smile on her face, her hair from the wind. She could still hear her mother's laughter.

A single tear fell on the framed picture.

She stared at the photo for a bit. A moment frozen in time. Too bad there weren't more of those.

Harper hugged the picture close to her chest then set it on the nightstand next to her bed. She took a deep breath and sighed. She looked at her bags on the bed and set them on the ground. She took off her combat boots and her jacket from her waist. Afterwards she took her phone from her back pocket and set it on the nightstand as well as her headphones.

She then laid down on the bed and curled into herself, sobbing quietly into the pillow.

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Masterlist

My Cherry Blossoms

@mlovesstories @chessurkait @adorable-minibot @desiredposion @idksupernatural @thevelvetseries @spnfamily-j2 @let-me-luve-you

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cleverlarryusername · 4 years

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That one time I met Louis Tomlinson

So this was 4 days after the concert in Nashville. He stuck around the south to do promo and eventually ended up in Atlanta. He had a private listening party at a secret location the first day he was here that I tried insanely hard to get into but failed miserably. Anyhoo the next morning I got a notification that Louis was going to stop by a toy drive one of the local radio stations was hosting (the radio station posted he was coming, but not when he would be there). I got insanely lucky it was my day off so I jumped out of bed, texted my friends I made at the concert to see who could meet me there, got dressed, and I was downtown within an hour of getting the notification which truly was an accomplishment. I met up with one of my friends and we walked in together around 10:30 am. There were a couple other people waiting for Louis when we got there so we talked to them for a bit then played some foosball. After about an hour more people started walking in, some of which ended up being some of my friends I’ve made at other shows, and hung out on the couches with us. Around noon one of the staff members came over to tell us Louis was coming in and to breathe. The more calm we seemed, the more likely he would be to stay and meet with us. About 5 minutes after that he walked in and honestly my soul left my body.

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He’s just so precious there’s literally no words, but at the same time I could go on forever. Everyone kept their freaking out at a whisper level and I was actually pretty proud of us. What started off as a group of 4 at 10:30 am turned into a group of about 24 by noon and every single one of us stayed quiet. He brought in a bike and a couple footie kits to donate. Once he parked the bike he took one of the balls out of one of the kits and started kicking it around with some of the people that came with him so of course I filmed it.

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He eventually turned toward our group and it honestly looked like he was going to be cheeky and kick the ball at us, but he was getting the attention of a little boy and added him to the little game he had going and it was one of the cutest things I’ve ever witnessed. After Louis and Oli almost broke a couple things they wrapped up the game and Louis did his interview with the radio station. We couldn’t really hear what they were saying since we were kinda far away, but as they were wrapping up Louis’ security guard came over to our group and said something along the lines of “alright girls we’re gonna do pictures, but we have to be quick. Louis’ gotta go so we’re gonna do groups of 2. Just get in, get your picture, and get out. No hugs or writing anything just keep it quick″. At this point we all kinda freaked out, grabbed our picture partners and got in line. My friend and I were 3rd in line and we spent our short wait trying to compose ourselves enough to function in front of him. So as we start walking up he gets all smiley and says “come get up on me stage with me” since he was on this little ledge thing and it took every ounce of will power in my entire body to not squeal or tell him he’s a precious bean because oh my lord it was so endearing. We go over to him and each took a side. While we couldn’t get full hugs, Louis made sure to fully wrap an arm around each of us and pulled us in close. After they snapped the picture I turned and told him we would see him on tour in June (that didn’t age well) and he was all smiley and waved to us before greeting the next group.

We immediately went behind a wall where Louis couldn’t see us and just cried. It took me almost 8 years, but I finally go to meet my sunshine and though it was brief it was overwhelming. There’s so much I wanted to say to him and I had something I wanted to have him write for me, but I’m so grateful for the time I had with him. The way he makes sure you feel special and loved no matter how long you have with him is something so rare. I’ve been fortunate enough to have a few meet and greets over the past couple of years with different artists and I can honestly say not many people can do what Louis does. The warmth and love he radiates is truly special. Anyway both my friend and I’s first instinct was to call our moms and happy cry to them about what just happened which I found hilarious. After everyone got their pictures we waved goodbye to Louis as he left. One of my concert friends that was there was getting lunch in the shopping center we were in with her group and invited us to tag along. All of us were still on such a high from what we just experienced and we all talked about how our brief meet and greets went for us which was honestly a perfect way to top off one of the best days of my life.

#Louis #Louis tomlinson #Louie #one direction #1d #tommo #larrie #idk what to tag this i just want everyone to know how great Louis is #he's also taller than i expected #he may actually be 5'9 but he's still a smol bean

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #423

“i won’t think about you when i’m older / ‘cuz we never really had our closure”

Are you better at cooking dinners or making cakes/biscuits/sweets? Neither. Have you ever cut someone else’s hair? No. Who was the last guest in your house and what were they staying for? My late grandmother's husband stayed overnight when he was driving from New York to Florida or the other way around, idr. How many long term relationships have you been in? Two. Do you sleep with all the lights out, or do you leave a lamp or even the television on? My snake's heat lamp stays on. Who is one person you have forgiven, but still have not “forgotten” what they have done? My dad. Are you a fan of Lana Del Rey? I don't think I've even heard one of her songs. Do you know your blood type? A-. Do you know your mother’s birthday? Yes. Have you got your period at the moment? I haven't had my period since I started TMS. It's honestly so fucking frustrating that it obviously had an effect on my body, but not my depression. I've officially finished TMS as of a few days ago and now I just feel so void of hope. Have you ever been pregnant? No. How old were you when you first went on a plane? Idr, I was a little kid. Have you ever had to take out a loan for anything? Not me personally, but my parents have for my education that I threw away. Are both of your blood parents still in your life? Yes. I don't see my dad a lot, but he's still in my life regardless. When was the last time you went apple picking? I’ve never been. Someone asked you what you wanted, what would you say? Happiness. Have you ever been drunk at school or work? I have not. How many bedrooms are in your house? Three. Are you smart about computers? Not really, no. Have you ever played Just Dance for Wii? Yes. My sister loved them, so we have a few. Do you own a Xbox 360? No. I'm a PlayStation girl. Would you ever do a sex tape for a million dollars? No. I'd be mortified. So, do you need a nap? I really should take one. I slept like... maybe three hours last night. I was up most of the night having a fucking life crisis. What would you rather be doing? Something fun. What sport are you the best at? I haven't touched any sort of sport since I was a teenager. Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? Yeah, Nicole. Do you complain a lot? Kind of, but I generally try to keep it in surveys nowadays. I'm just tired of shit. Would you rather go to an authentic haunted house or an ancient temple? Ohhh, tough pick, but I've gotta say the ancient temple. Do you like fruity or minty gum? Both, really. Are you looking forward to any day of this month? Well July is practically over, so I'll answer for August. I'm looking forward to my nephew's birthday. Have you ever gotten detention? A few times for getting too many morning tardies in high school. Is there a traumatic event that you’ve experienced that’s changed your life? Definitely. Do you buy a majority of your clothes from a certain store, or do you just pick out items of clothing you could see yourself wearing, not caring about the store it came from? The latter. Have any of the artists you’re fond of released new albums recently? Powerwolf did recently. Would you ever keep your favorite animal as a pet? I could write a college-length essay on why meerkats do not make good pets whatsoever. Do fucking not get one. I can barely fathom how it's legal in some countries. Ever cried so much you threw up? No, but I've gagged. Who is your best guy friend? Girt. What do you two do when you hang out? Mostly just watch TV and play board games. What is a movie that you thought you would hate but you ended up loving? I dunno, really. Do you even like horror movies? I love horror movies. Do you live in the country? I wish I still did. :/ Me and Mom hate hate hate living in these suburbs. What is your favorite accent? British. Have you ever had a boyfriend your parents didn’t like? No. Do you drink Pepsi or Coke? Coke. Pepsi is gross. What do you plan to do on your 21st birthday? I was literally in the psych hospital for my 21st birthday lmao. It's kind of a painful memory, but I also won't forget the love and kindness people showed me. I especially remember the friend I made there getting the lunch lady to literally go and buy me a slice of cake. Everyone also sang happy birthday to me and gaaaah I'm getting emotional. Do you have any person in your family with an addiction to beer? That was my dad's drink of choice when he drank. Do you take a lot of pictures? Unless I have my camera and am somewhere pretty, no. What kind of face wash do you use? Water, lol. Does drama always seem to follow you? Nah. Does anybody in your family race? No. Are you closer to your mom or dad? My mom. How much money did you used to get from the ”tooth fairy?” Uhhh... I want to say $2 or something? I might be way off, idr. How long do you want to live with your parents? I WISH I could have moved out with an s/o already, but that's just not how life's worked out. Do you have a laptop or desktop? I have a laptop. Do you like your parents? I love them. Do you secretly like someone? It's not a secret, no. Would you ever date your best male friend? Tried that once and it didn't work out. I liked him more as like a brother. What are you currently listening to? "Better Than Me" by Hinder. I really need to turn it off, but I can't make myself. Do you want to be single? I really wish I had a partner to love and motivate me to strive to do better, but I know it's better I'm single right now. I'd just relive the Jason situation, I'm sure. I'd just drag the person down and lose them. Did you go out or stay in last night? I'm almost always at my fucking house not doing shit, so. Have you pretended to like someone? No, that sounds pretty stupid... How is your heart lately? Hurting. A lot. Are you wearing socks? I hate wearing socks and I'm in bed anyway, so no. What do people call you? Britt, mostly. Do you get stressed out easily? VERY. Have you ever been taken to the emergency room in an ambulance? No. What is wrong with you right now? Where the hell to begin. Do you own something from Hot Topic? A lot. Would you rather sleep with someone else or alone? With someone, so long as the bed is big enough to comfortably fit two of us. Do you still talk to the person you last made out with? No. I'm certain he wants nothing to do with me. Have you ever seen your best friend cry? Sadly. Did you get any compliments today? Definitely not. I look and feel like a wreck right about now. There's nothing to praise me about. Have you ever gone to a beach? Many times. What would you say if someone asked you to get high right now? Unless it was an edible, no. I'd do almost anything to try and make me feel better right now, even if just for a little while, but I'm unwilling to smoke anything. Do you believe that everything happens for a reason? HELL no. Have you ever done volunteer work just because you wanted to? Honestly, no. Do you have long nails? No; I never do because I have an awful habit of picking at them. Do you like the gender you are? I don't like or dislike it, honestly. I'm just neutral. Do you generally look nice in photos? HA. Have you ever had a stick insect as a pet? No. What colour are your father’s eyes? They're dark brown. If I handed you a concert ticket right now, who would you want to be the performer? Ozzy, duh. Name three facts about your family? We're very, very spread out geographically, some of us (in other words, me) are emotionally distant, and uh... idk. Would you ever get into a long distance relationship? Only if it was a certain person, our lives were more on track, and we were making plans for either of us to move soon. What’s the most thoughtful present you’ve ever received? Probably this really long letter my mom wrote for me on my bday a couple years ago. What’s your favorite hot beverage? Hot chocolate. Did you ever play an instrument? If so what? I played the flute for many years, all through middle school and through much of high school. Would you rather carve pumpkins or wrap presents? Carve pumpkins, for sure. Do you think you’re important? I don't fucking know. Probably not. What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received? Idk. Have you been diagnosed with any mental disorders? *hands over thick book* Have you ever moved to another state or country? If so, how did it feel to be new? No. Do you know how to properly eat food with chopsticks? No. My hands are way, way too shaky to ever accomplish that. Are you more of a leader or a follower? Definitely a follower, but I can step up in certain situations. What was the first thing you ate today? Well, I was seriously depression-eating last night, way past midnight, and had a peanut butter sandwich. If you could spend the day, doing absolutely anything, with anyone, anywhere, what would it be like? LET'S NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT RIGHT NOW. If I were to ask you how you are doing, and you were only able to answer completely honestly, what would come out? "Falling apart." I've lost direction, motivation, strength, hope, just everything. What is the one thing that you have been avoiding that you should do? I need a fucking shower so bad that it's embarrassing. I just can't move. I have no energy, emotionally or physically. I just can't make myself do it. Is there anything that you wish you could take back? So, so badly. What, in your mind, could make you truly happy? Actually reaching goals. Losing weight. Healing my legs. Knowing with certainty that I wasn't emotionally abusive to Jason. Moving out of this town and back into the country. Financial stability. A job I thoroughly enjoy. I could go on, but let's not. If you could change one conversation in your life, what would you say differently? Would it have REALLY made any difference? God, let me take back shit I said in that fucking letter to you-know-who. It's so hard to believe I once thought it perfectly justified and realistic. When is the next time you’ll change your hairstyle? Will you color it? I don't have any plans of changing the style in the foreseeable future. I want to color it BADLY. To just SOMETHING. Do people normally say you’re a fast typist, or are you rather slow? I'm like, a lightning-fast typist. Have you ever been considered the ‘smartest person in school?’ No; my best friend in HS was, though. Her GPA was fucking insane. I was in the top percentile, though, so I was up there. What the hell happened to that girl. How many drugs are in your system? If we're including prescriptions, a whole hell of a lot. What’s on your schedule for tomorrow? Jack shit. Like usual. Do you currently have any bite marks/hickeys on your body? No. Do you call anyone baby? Excluding my pets, no. What’s your current mood? lol if you've gotten this far reading, you can make an educated guess. Do you think you are a good person? Bro I just don't know. What were you doing before filling out this survey? I was playing WoW. How late did you stay up last night? Like, 4:30 or so. When was the last time you cried really hard? I wanna say like a week ago? Is your hair longer than your shoulders? No. It still badly needs a trim, though.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''better than me'' by hinder

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evengayerpanic · 4 years

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Trains and Passengers [2 of 4]

Trigger Warning: Mentions of Emotional Abuse, Physical Abuse and Reference to Sexual Assault.

Inspired by an ask I received, wanting an AU of Aster/Ellie plus an adorable little boy, I’ve decided to take that idea, and run with it! There just seemed to be so much plot, that a one-shot wouldn’t have sufficed. So I bring you the second chapter, out of four, in Trains and Passengers, an Ellie/Aster AU.

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“Mama, can we have dinosaur nuggets for dinner?” Aster blinked her eyes open, letting out a small laugh as she met her son’s eyes face to face, the little boy’s face bare inches away from her as he tried to whisper (or at least as much as a toddler could whisper) about how happy his dinosaur nuggets would make him.

For a second, Aster had to glance around the room, she was curled up on the sofa in the cabin, blanket curled around her. Tommy was squished in next to her, not quite stealing the blanket, but trying too.

“Baby, how long have I been asleep?” Aster asked softly, bringing a hand up to brush the hair out of her little boy’s eyes, a smile on her face as she did so.

“Four shows of Paw Patrol.” Tommy shrugged, his hand grabbing another chip from the bag in front of him, popping it into his mouth quickly before smiling at her. “You was really tired, Mama.” Tommy giggled.

Aster sighed as she shifted under the blanket, arms stretching out to grab her little boy and drag him into her, the child squealing and giggling as she pulled him towards her. “Mama! Mama, that’s silly!” The sound of his laughter was music to Aster’s ears as she peppered the little boy’s face with kisses, tickling underneath his arms and along his sides. “Hehe, Mama! That tickles!”

“Did you eat that whole bag of chips?” Aster teased him, the boy squealing out his answer in a yelp.

“I ate them, I ate them!” Tommy squealed, before his Mama swiped him up into the air, tucking him over her shoulder and carrying him to the kitchen.

Aster laughed for a second, before settling the little boy on the kitchen counter. “I guess you aren’t hungry for lunch then.” She smiled, leaning over to kiss him on the head, before pulling the freezer next to them open. “Let’s see if we have any dinosaur nuggets.”

Aster dug through the freezer slowly. “How about regular chicken nuggets?” She asked, a smile on her face as she shook the box. “You love chicken nuggets.”

“No.” Tommy said, frowning. “I want dino nuggets.”

“Baby, we don’t have dinosaur nuggets.” Aster tried to reason, her heart breaking as the little boy in front of her’s lip began quivering and he started to tremble.

“Okay... Okay, let’s go out and get some.” She said with a smile, lifting her son off of the counter and hugging him tightly. “We can go check out the town of Squahamish, and go find a grocery store to get your dinosaur nuggets, how does that sound?”

“Yay!” Tommy cried as he jumped down from his mother’s arms and sprinted off in the direction of the room he was staying in. “I’ll get dressed, Mama!”

Less than ten minutes later, Aster and Tommy were ready to go, hand in hand as they exited the cabin, only to run into someone standing at the front door.

“Oh!” Aster cried out as an arm reached out to steady her, stopping her and Tommy from toppling over.

“Aster?” Came the panicked voice that was just starting to become a familiar one. “I am so sorry!”

Blinking her eyes, Aster moved her arm to shield Tommy for a moment before she realized who it was they had run into. “Ellie! What are you doing here?”

The girl in question blushed for a moment, smiling as the little boy at her feet immediately began to grin at her. “I wanted to check in on you guys.” Ellie tried to explain, the smile growing as Tommy moved to cling at her arm with a shy cuddle against her. “Make sure you were okay, and that you didn’t need anything.”

“Funny you should ask.” Aster smiles, her voice laden with laughter underneath. “We were just about to go on a mission for dinosaur nuggets.” She smiles.

Ellie sputters in confusion. “Dinosaur nuggets?”

“My favourite!” Tommy exclaims excitedly.

At his excited yell, both Aster and Ellie burst into laughter. Ellie smiling down at the little boy before nodding. “Well I guess we better go get you some!”

Aster glanced up at Ellie’s remark, her eyes widening slightly. “You want to come with us?” She was beyond confused. A trip to a grocery store with a three year old didn’t sound like fun to even Aster, and she was his mother, she couldn’t imagine why someone would want to join them if they didn’t have to.

“If that’s okay with you.” Ellie said with a soft look at Aster, there was a sparkle in them that Aster had never seen in anyone before. To top it all off, Ellie kneeled to her son’s height with her next words, which made Aster swoon. “And if it’s okay with you.”

“Yeah!” Tommy shouted his glee, something that made Aster blush and nod her own agreement.

“We would love the company, Ellie Chu.”

_________________

It wasn’t until two hours later that Aster Flores realized just how much fun she was having grocery shopping in Squahamish with her son and Ellie Chu.

“What do you mean you’ve never seen Harry Potter?” Ellie Chu gasped in surprise, nearly dropping the ice cream in her hands as the three of them walked down the street of Squahamish. “It’s a classic, Aster!”

“Religious parents.” Aster explained, biting a piece of her popsicle off, looking down at her son who had chocolate all over his face. “I wasn’t allowed to watch anything that might condemn my soul.” She shrugs.

“Wow, I’m sorry.” Ellie turned to look at Aster, nothing but sincerity in her eyes as they exchanged a look. “Do you mind if I ask a personal question?”

Aster laughed for a second. “Ellie, you’ve bought me groceries twice now. You also cleaned up the cabin I’m staying in, and now you’ve bought me and my son ice cream. I would say you’re allowed to ask anything.”

“How did they feel when you got married so young?”

Aster froze, mid-smile as her face falls. Instantly, Ellie felt a flush of embarrassment flood over her and she shook her head wildly, apologies immediately escape her lips. She didn’t mean to ask, didn’t mean to be so intrusive. Ellie knows she shouldn’t have pried, she shouldn’t have asked, really it was none of her busi-

“It’s okay.” Aster finally speaks, voice smaller than Ellie Chu is used too, the loud and boisterous Mom that she met last night, and got to spend time with today has instead been replaced with hard whispers and softness. “They loved the idea, they’re the ones who actually suggested that he propose, to be honest.”

At Ellie’s confused look, Aster sighs. She stops in her tracks but nods Tommy forward, the little boy bouncing along the street happily, following the way they took to get to Squahamish. His Mama and her new friend watch him carefully, Aster speaking as they start walking again, a little more confidently now that Tommy is no longer within earshot.

“T.J., Tommy’s father, well... his family has a lot of money.” She starts, her eyes keeping a close tab on her three year old who’s barely ten feet in front of them. “When we started dating, T.J. began giving money to my Father’s church.” Her eyes go downcast again, clear shame passes over as she murmurs. “My Dad thought if we got married, that the donation his family would give... well, that it would change lives.”

Ellie reaches out, her free hand going to caress Aster’s arm gently. “I’m really sorry your family used you.”

It’s soft, and small, but Ellie sees the slightest upturn of a smile come over Aster’s face. “It’s okay, I got Tommy out of it, and that’s all that matters, right?”

“Right.”

“We should catch up to him before he makes it all the way home without us.” Aster says, grabbing a hold of Ellie’s free hand, and holding tight to one of the grocery bags they purchased. “Come on!” She smirks, pulling Ellie behind her as the two women chase after the boy with a smile and laugh that rings across town.

_________________

Ellie spends the rest of the day with the mother and son duo; Aster makes them all the much anticipated dinner of dinosaur nuggets and tater tots, Tommy helps Ellie with the trains in the evening, and Ellie ends up the middle of a too cute for words sandwich when they all curl up to watch The Polar Express.

It may not be Christmas, but at least it has trains.

Halfway through the movie, an exhausted Tommy Singh falls asleep, spooned up against Ellie Chu’s leg, effectively freezing her from moving for fear of waking the angel up from his peaceful slumber.

Instead Ellie and Aster continue their conversation from earlier, over top the little boys dark brown curls.

“Did you always want to be a Mom?” Ellie asks, watching the way that Aster slips her fingers through her son’s hair, brushing it softly as he sleeps.

“No, actually.” Aster surprises Ellie. “I wanted to be an artist, paintings in every museum. I wanted to have my own collection and run my own gallery. I didn’t want kids until I was at least thirty, maybe older.”

Ellie raises an eyebrow, looking down at the little boy sleeping. “What changed? I mean, you can’t have been very old when Tommy was born. You’re my age.”

“I was nineteen when I got married, three weeks shy of my twentieth birthday when Tommy was born.”

Ellie can only smile, not picking up on the hidden sadness in Aster Flores’ eyes. “A decade early, hm?”

Aster frowns this time. Ellie reaches a hand out to grab Aster’s arm gently. “I’m sorry, was I rude?”

Aster shakes her head, strands of her own dark curls falling into her eyes. “No.” She mumbles, a shiver going through her as she pulls away, moving just enough to get to her feet. “I need to get him in bed.”

Ellie nods, watching as Aster ducks in to lift Tommy under the arms. The boy instantly curls against his Mama, tucking in close to her, even while asleep. She hoists him into her arms and carries him off down the hall, leaving Ellie alone in the living room in silence.

She waits a moment, then another one.

About a minute has gone by before Ellie realizes that she probably offended Aster, and that the girl was trying to get away from her. She gets to her feet, gathering what little things she brought, and sneaks over to the door... shame and embarrassment are written across her face. She feels mortified.

She’s about to leave, mentally cursing herself for chasing away one of the only people that’s seem to enjoy her company since Paul Munsky moved out of town, when Aster comes back into the room, stopping her in her tracks with a single word.

“Stay.” She pauses, then adds. “Please?”

And just like Aster Flores could control the entire world with a single word, Ellie Chu finds her way back to the sofa and sits down, facing the girl silently.

“We were only married a week before T.J. began asking me when we were going to have kids.” Aster takes the chair across from Ellie with a sigh.

“I told him I wanted to wait a few years.” She continues, fixing Ellie with a look, a look that somehow Ellie knows how to read even though they’ve only known each other for a couple of days. “I found out I was pregnant barely a month later.”

Ellie exhales the breath that she didn’t know she was holding, there’s so many questions in her mind, but she knows better than to interrupt Aster. Not now.

“A happy accident, or so I thought.” Aster smiles softly, glancing over at the room where her son is sleeping. “When Tommy was born, I fell in love.”

At this point she stops, her voice gets a little choked up and Ellie has to keep herself from rushing across the room to comfort Aster, to hold her, hug her, do something to help fix what the other woman feels.

“Barely a month afterwards, he was asking me again when we could get pregnant... I wasn’t even healed from Tommy’s birth yet.” Aster grimaces in pain.

“I found out the condoms we were using... all had holes poked in them, every last one of them.”

At this, Ellie feels the shock hit her.

Aster isn’t finished though, far from it. She tells her story from that moment on; informing Ellie of how she had to secretly go on birth control without T.J. noticing, sharing that after three years of nothing that he was starting to get suspicious and culminating in a very awkward doctor appointment where T.J. was finally informed of the measures Aster took against an accidental pregnancy with a second child.

And lastly, his immediate fury.

“He screamed the entire way home...” Aster whispers, voice broken and Ellie’s heart thudding into her stomach. “When we got home, he tossed out the birth control, and told me we were going to try every day until I gave him another child.” Ellie feels sick.

“I didn’t want too, but that didn’t matter to him... He just...” At this point, Aster lets out a sob and Ellie bounds across the room to her in a second, wrapping her arms around the crying woman and holding her in a tight embrace. “He took what he wanted from me.”

Aster trembles in Ellie’s arms. Ellie holds her, not sure how to comfort her, other than listening to her story.

“Every day for a week, he’d come home and... One night, Tommy heard my screaming and came running.” Ellie lets out a small gasp, her heart breaking at the very idea of Tommy walking in on the horrors his Mama went through. “I begged T.J. to stop, but he slammed the door in Tommy’s face, and kept on...”

Aster wipes the tears from her eyes, and Ellie offers her part of her sleeve, not sure what else to do. The hollow small laugh Aster gives at that, only seems to break Ellie more, her heart racing at the things these precious two people had to go through.

“Tommy sat outside the door the entire night crying, the next day he asked me why Daddy was hurting me...” Aster barks out another hollow laugh, this one full of remorse and anger, instead of the sadness from before. “You know, you always wonder what will happen if your child walks in on you... How you’re going to explain that Mommy and Daddy weren’t hurting each other. You never think you have to explain that he’s right, that Daddy was hurting Mommy and you don’t know why he’s doing it.”

At this Ellie whispers, “Aster, I am so sorry that you went through th-” But Aster isn’t finished yet.

“The next day, I tried to stop him... I fought back, and he gave me this black eye.” Aster points to her face, and Ellie, though she already knew just who was the culprit of Aster’s bruises, can hardly hold herself back from wanting to stand up and go after the sick son of a bitch. “That’s when I knew I had to leave.”

Ellie waits another moment, feeling as all of the tensity Aster was holding onto, slowly starts to dissipate, a bi-product of finally being able to tell her story, at least, the main focus and point of it.

They end up in silence for a few minutes, sharing the chair that Aster was sitting in, pressed together tightly, hands still woven in with each other. Ellie isn’t sure what to say; she’s angry, she’s bitter, but mostly, she feels the need to protect Aster and Tommy swell in her... more than it already had meeting them.

Paul had told her bits and pieces of what they went through, but nothing of what was shared tonight.

“You’re safe here, Aster...” Ellie finally whispers, brushing the hair from the other girl’s eyes and staring at her with a sense of something more bubbling inside of her. “I know I’m not much to look at, but I’ll keep you safe from him, I swear.”

Aster blushes softly, before she meets Ellie’s eyes. “Can you stay here tonight, please? Something about you Ellie, it just makes me feel... well, safe.”

She whispers the next part. “And not safe.”

Ellie chooses to ignore the comment, nodding her head that she’ll stay for the night, as long as Aster wants her. Ellie won’t leave as long as she’s needed.

_________________

The two end up settling in Aster’s bed, Aster’s choice so that neither of them wind up sore in the morning from the couch. They’re both fully dressed and too emotionally exhausted to even think about changing.

They lie on top of the blankets, face to face, both of them fighting against their eyelids to keep from closing. They try to talk about happier things, things that don’t make Aster relieve bad memories, things that don’t make Ellie seriously consider what it would feel like to break a man’s arm, or worse.

Aster asks Ellie about what she wanted to be. A writer, is the answer. She settled for train engineering so that her Dad would be able to retire happily without worrying about his station, his trains and passengers.

Ellie asks Aster about her favourites. Colour? Green. Smell? The shampoo her son uses. Book? Fried Green Tomatoes. Memory? Taking Tommy to the beach, just her and him for the day. The waves crashing, building a sandcastle, trying to teach him how to swim.

Ellie smiles at the thought.

Aster asks Ellie if she’s ever thought about having kids. Her answer is an immediate no, she’s terrible with children, she’s never met a kid that’s actually liked her and not wanted to burst into tears after seeing her.

Aster reminds her that Tommy hangs onto her every word, and teases Ellie that for someone who isn’t good with kids, she’s just great with him.

They talk for hours, until the words are barely a mumble, and they’re curled up against eachother. Aster tucked in a ball, Ellie wrapped around protectively.

Aster Flores falls asleep with Ellie Chu’s arm wrapped around her waist, and a feeling of true security.

#the half of it #fanfic idea #fanfiction #AU fanfiction #ellie chu #aster flores #ellie and aster #aster and ellie #ellister #leah lewis #alexxis lemire #Trains and Passengers #inspired by prompt #tw: domestic violence #tw: physical abuse #tw: emotional abuse

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