#when my mom & her dementia do things as I try to fix the last thing she did | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sequinsmile-x · 2 years

Text

Tomorrow

They could have had forever and it still wouldn’t have been enough.

The final story in the Whatever Tomorrow Brings universe.

-x-

I've felt oddly emotional about this all day, all week really. Whatever Tomorrow Brings was the first story of mine that really started to pick up readers, and whilst I will miss this universe - it feels like the right time to say goodbye. I'll still be here, writing about our favourite idiots in love, just not this version of them.

I want to say thank you to all of you! To anyone who reblogged, liked or left kudos on any part of this universe. Thank you to the silent readers, those who come back time and time again. Thank you for loving my original characters so much - Theo, and especially Amelia, became so much more because of how all of you reacted to them.

This version of them, and their family, will always be important to me, and knowing they meant something to you too means more than I can ever say.

So this is it, the end of WTB. I hope you think I've done their story justice, and that when you revisit them in the future you still enjoy their highs and lows with them.

I love you all!

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 7.7k

Warnings: Major character death, grief, illness

Read over on A03, or below the cut.

June 2037

They hadn’t had enough time.

It’s all she can think as she stands in the home office they once shared, her eyes fixed on Aaron’s desk.

Vascular Dementia. Two words that permeated everything in their lives for almost three years, a diagnosis that rocked their whole family, and shook them to the very core.

Emily noticed it first. How her husband seemed to suddenly be more forgetful, easily confused in a way he never had been before. When she looks back on it she realises it had been slowly getting worse for a while, signs she had missed before it became obvious. Memories of what it was like when her mother was sick haunting her. At first, they’d assumed it was the same thing, a cruel twist of fate that took her mother and her husband from her with the same disease. She could still feel the pit in her stomach, heavy and dense, when she remembered the diagnosis, the cause the doctors assumed laid behind it.

It was George Foyet’s last laugh. His actions still impacting their family decades after he had briefly taken Aaron from them, only to permanently do it now. The injuries he had sustained had slowly put stress on his heart throughout the years, leading to this.

Aaron had been the one who had to calm her down once they got home from that appointment, initially letting her rant and rave, cursing a man long since dead, until she started to cry. Then he’d hugged her, held her in the embrace that had been her solace for most of her life and comforted her, like he wasn’t the one who hadn’t just been told he was dying.

“Mom?”

She turns from where she is standing, her chest tight as she turns to face her children, all three of them just inside the door, pulled shut behind them to give them some privacy. It’s why she’d sought solace here, to begin with, strangers in their home setting it up for the wake. It was setting her on edge, her nerves already raw.

Jack is standing with his hands in his pockets, his lips set in a firm line, a clear attempt to hold his emotions back. It makes him look so much like Aaron that her eyes sting, the seemingly endless tears making their presence known. The sight of him in a black suit sending her right back to the last time he’d buried a parent. He’d been so young then, the life he had known dead and gone with his mother.

Theo and Amelia are bunched together, the latter with her arms wrapped tightly around her brother’s bicep, holding him close, her head against his shoulder, tears on her face that she doesn’t even try to hide.

“The cars are here.” Theo says, his voice shaking slightly, attempting to smile at her, “we’re ready to go when you are.”

Emily nods and throws one look back towards Aaron’s desk, left exactly as it had been when he’d last used it, and she blows out a breath as she turns to her children.

“Let’s go, best get today over with.” She says as she steps towards them.

Amelia breaks free from her brothers and closes the gap between her and Emily, hugging her mother as she did when she was a little girl. Seeking her comfort like she was a child, not the grown woman she now was. Emily holds her just as tightly, rubbing her hand up and down her daughter's back as she cries.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she says, encouraging Amelia to walk with her, her arm around her waist, “you know how your dad felt about tardiness.”

They all chuckle, humourless and sad but it’s something. She guides her daughter towards the front of the house, her sons walking just behind them, and she is grateful Aaron gave her them. The family they worked so hard for.

They could have had forever and it still wouldn’t have been enough.

April 2035

“You want to do what?” She asks, venom in her voice as she stares at him, her mouth hanging open from where she sits next to him on their couch. He looks so calm it makes her even more irritated, like he hadn’t just dropped life changing news on her. He doesn’t bite, doesn’t react. He’d always been frustratingly patient with her.

“I want to sign a DNR.” He repeats, placing his hand on her knee and squeezing the joint, his fingers attempting to press comfort into her. “I think it’s the right thing to do.”

“The right thing to…” she blows out a breath incredulously, and she shakes her head, “how is signing something that means the doctors just let you die the right thing to do?”

All she can think about is what they were told 6 months ago, his increased risk of heart attacks and stroke. How to look for the signs. She’d barely let him leave her sight, worried she’d come home to find him laying on the ground. Images of what had been key themes in her nightmares over the years, flashes of a blood stain on a floor in their old house, becoming a very real possibility.

“Em,-”

“No,” she says, cutting him off. She stands up, his hand slipping from her knee, and she starts to pace the floor.

He stands too, still calm, and It infuriates her. Makes grief settle in her lungs as she becomes hyper-aware that she could lose him at any moment.

“Sweetheart,” he says, his hands on her shoulders as he stops her, making her look at him, “it’s only going to get worse, the doctor said we should think about it.” He wipes a tear away from her cheek that she doesn’t even realise has fallen. “I need you on board with this.”

She’s heard what he hasn’t said. He legally can’t make this decision for himself anymore. She was his medical proxy, and power of attorney had been handed over after his diagnosis. He’d already got worse, she knew that. Confused and frustrated more than he wasn’t, and she hated that they were using some of his increasingly infrequent lucid days to talk about this.

“Aaron,” she breathes out, “how am I supposed to sign something that says I don’t want them to resuscitate you if something happens?” She doesn’t try and cover her upset, her tears freely falling, there had never been any point in doing so around him anyway. “How are you so ok with this?”

He pulls her into a hug, his hand in her hair, holding her almost impossibly close.

“I have no other choice.”

She isn’t sure how long they stand there before she swallows thickly, the words bitter in her mouth.

“Ok, I understand.” She says, and he kisses the top of her head, and squeezes her tightly. “I’m going to miss you when you…so you’d better live for as long as possible,” she’s still crying, her words losing the humorous edge she was going for, she pulls back to look at him and sees tears in his eyes too, “Ok?”

He nods. “Ok,” he leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead, “I’ll miss you too.”

The next day he asks her where Haley is, and she has to excuse herself for a moment to pull herself together.

___

September 2008

Emily groans as she wakes up, unaware that she had fallen asleep in the first place. The first thing she is aware of, apart from the fact she’s on the couch, is the ever present nausea that rolled through her entire body.

She places her hand over her stomach, pressing into the still flat surface. She’d only been released from the hospital the day before, and Aaron and the boys were taking the doctor’s instructions to make sure she rested very seriously. She smiles as she realises someone, Aaron, had laid a blanket over her. She looks down and sees Archie cuddled up in her arms, and it makes her eyes water, forever at the mercy of her hormones, at the thought of Theo placing the orange cat there with her before Aaron ushered him out of the room.

She sits up slowly, blowing out a breath as she does, a pointless attempt to settle her stomach. She gives herself a moment before she stands, ensuring she has Archie with her, before she makes her way upstairs.

It was late enough to know everyone else would be up there, and Aaron would have inevitably come to wake her up, to encourage her into their bed, once the boys were asleep. She sneaks into Theo’s room on the way past, smiling as she places Archie in bed with him, kissing her son’s forehead before she slips back out.

She’s about to check on Jack when she hears him and Aaron in her bedroom, their hushed conversation travelling out through the gap in the door. Her curiosity spurs her on as much as her exhaustion does, and she steps into the room, spotting them in the ensuite.

“What are you two up to?” She asks, her smile widening as they both turn to look at her, shaving foam on both of their faces, clean skin showing through the patches they had already dragged the razor across.

“Dad’s teaching me how to shave,” Jack says, a shy smile on his face.

Emily exchanges a look with her husband and is proud of herself for not smiling. Jack, in no way, had enough facial hair to justify shaving, just the first hint of it on his upper lip, the odd hair on his chin.

“Well, have fun,” she says, “I’m going to get into bed.”

“Do you need anything sweetheart?” Aaron asks, already setting the razor in his hand down, ready to do whatever she requested.

“I’m ok,” she replies before looking back at Jack, “see you in the morning, honey.”

“Night, Emily.”

She climbs into bed, pulling the covers tightly around her as she tries to curl into a ball, another attempt to settle the constant twisting in her stomach. She dozes, the quiet sound of Jack and Aaron talking in the bathroom turning into white noise, and she’s unsure how much time has passed when she feels Aaron climb into bed with her, gentle as he pulls her back into him, his palm covering her belly.

“Are you ok?” He asks, kissing the back of her head, his thumb stroking at her belly button.

“I feel like shit,” she replies honestly, a slight whine to her voice, “but no more than usual.”

“I can go get one of your pills if you want,” he says, already pulling away, but she stops him, her hand over his on her stomach.

“No, I don’t need it,” she says, turning her head enough just to look at him, her lips pressing into his, “this helps.”

He looks at her as if he doesn’t believe her, but settles back down behind her anyway, his body moulding into hers, the space they had made for each other years ago.

“That was sweet,” she says, linking their fingers together on her abdomen, “Jack asking you to teach him how to shave.”

Aaron hums. “He was so shy about it,” he says, smiling into the back of her head, “Did I ever tell you that I taught Sean?”

She squeezes his hand a little tighter, any mention of his little brother always prone to make him sad, their relationship so fractured she wondered if it would ever be fixed.

“No, you didn’t,” she says, raising their hands to kiss his knuckles, “although, it makes sense, your dad wasn’t around.” She turns, the movement making her stomach roll, so she can face him properly, her forehead against his. “You’re a fantastic father, you know that?”

He smiles at the praise, his dimples on display. “And you’re an excellent mother.”

She chokes out a laugh, although it sounds close to a sob, her hormones driving her crazy.

“Our kids are so lucky to have us,” she quips, her hand running through his hair.

“They are,” he replies, pressing his lips to hers, “but you can be the one to have the sex talk with them.”

She laughs, properly this time, and she nods at him. “Fine, but you have to teach them how to drive.”

___

June 2037

She’s sitting on the couch, the tv on a mindless channel, when the front door opens, the sound of the key in the lock seemingly echoing throughout the house.

It’s muscle memory, a pavlovian response to years, decades, of Aaron walking in, his familiar footsteps against the hardwood floor, that has her momentarily forgetting.

“Mom, it’s just me,” Jack calls through the house, and she berates herself for the stab of disappointment she feels.

It wasn’t Aaron, it never could be again.

“I’m in the living room.” She calls back, hopeful that she had kept her voice even.

She knew her children well enough to know they’d discussed keeping an eye on her. It would have been Amelia’s idea initially, she knew that. Her daughter was still staying with her, sleeping in her childhood bedroom as if she didn’t have an apartment just 30 minutes away with her partner. She wasn’t here right now, and Emily knew it wasn’t coincidence that Jack was here when the house was otherwise empty.

“Is Mills still staying here?” Jack asks as he walks into the room, making a show of looking around for signs of his sister as he sits next to Emily, joining her on the couch.

“Yeah,” Emily replies, smiling, “She went home to get some fresh clothes, make sure Jamie has watered the plants correctly.”

Jack raises his eyebrow, “There’s a wrong way to do that?”

Emily laughs, the sound foreign to her ears, “Apparently.”

They fall back into the silence that had fallen over the house in recent weeks, laying over them like a thick blanket. Cloying and suffocating.

“How are you doing, Mom?” Jack asks, his voice soft, kind. A mixture of the three people who had raised him.

“I’m ok,” she replies automatically, a tight smile on her face.

Jack sighs. “Mom, you don’t have to do that. Not with me.”

She frowns, her eyebrows creasing together. “Do what?”

“Pretend everything is ok,” he says, “We’ve never lied to each other.”

Suddenly it’s like she’s watching his life play out in front of her. Like he’s every version of himself that she has known all at once. The terrified kid on the brink of losing his mother, the angry teenager once again torn away from the life he knew. The grown man, the father, she had sitting in front of her.

The years had gone by so quickly.

“No,” she replies, “We haven’t.” She looks down at her lap and plays with her wedding rings. She has Aaron’s on a chain around her neck now, sitting close to her heart. “I’m just…really fucking angry,” she says, looking back up at her eldest, her eyes welling up as she admits it out loud for the first time, “so angry that he’s gone.”

“I am too,” Jack admits, shaking his head. “It seems so unfair.”

“I hate him for leaving me behind,” she says, her voice shaking, “and I hate that I hate him. Because I’ve loved him for most of my life.”

Jack hugs her then, closes the small gap between them and puts his arms around her. She returns it gratefully, feeling a sense of relief for getting just a small part of what she was feeling off of her chest.

“He asked me to look after you, you know,” Jack says as he pulls back, a sad smile on his face. Emily tilts her head at him slightly, her eyebrows creased.

“He did? When?”

Jack chuckles dryly. “The last time I went to see him and he was lucid,” he shakes his head at the memory, “Sara stepped out with the kids, they were restless, and he said I needed to look after you. That you’d be so busy looking after everyone else you’d forget to do it yourself.”

She huffs out a laugh and wipes a tear from her cheek. It felt absurd. That he’d been dying, waiting for the end, and he’d been worried about her.

“That ridiculous man.” She says, another laugh choking on a sob, the sound dying in her throat. “Fuck, I miss him so much already.”

Jack nods his head. “Me too.”

___

November 2013

Emily smiles as she hears her husband's footsteps heading towards the kitchen, home late from meetings that she knew he’d rather have skipped. She looks to Amelia, the little girl happily sitting on her mother’s hip, and smiles, bouncing her slightly as Aaron comes into view.

“Look, sweet girl, Daddy’s home!”

“Daddy!” Amelia squeals, her hands already reaching out for him. He walks over and takes the little girl into his arms, kissing his wife quickly as he does so.

“Hi sweetheart,” he says, kissing Emily again.

“Hi,” she smiles at him, “how was work?”

“Long,” he replies, adjusting Amelia so she was comfortable in his embrace, her tiny hands playing with his tie, “I’ve got to tell you something, and you’ve got to promise to stay calm.”

She freezes, her eyes fixed on him as her throat feels tight. “What?”

“I got called by Theo’s school earlier.”

She frowns, confusion spreading through her veins. She’d seen Aaron since school would have ended, Theo was up in his room reading, acting like it was a normal day.

“What? Why? What’s wrong?” She asks, her words tripping over each other, fierce protectiveness and worry that only their children could bring out in her rising fast.

“They have some concerns because he hasn’t been eating lunch, and today they saw him giving his lunch money to another kid.”

She leans against the kitchen counter. “Is this kid bullying him?”

Pre-emptive anger fills her lungs, ready to go shout at whatever child was involved, and she glares at Aaron when he has the audacity to smile at her for a second, her reaction clearly predictable to him.

“They asked him that and he refused to tell them, they asked if we would speak to him.”

She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He’s been making such good progress, Aaron, I don’t want him to go through this again-”

“Baby,” he says, placing a hand on her waist, “let’s not jump to conclusions, we’ll talk to him after dinner, ok?”

She nods in response, fighting against every instinct to run up the stairs and ask her son what was going on.

During dinner, Aaron has to place a hand on her leg, squeezing the muscle tightly as she watches Theo eat. She notices the speed at which he does so, and she chastises herself for not noticing it before.

Once Amelia is in bed, they call him into the living room, a nervous look on his face as he settles on the couch opposite his parents.

“Am I in trouble?” He asks, concern painting his features.

“No, sweetie you’re not in trouble,” Emily says, smiling at him in a way she hoped was reassuring, “we just need to talk to you.”

“School called me today,” Aaron adds, and Theo’s eyes widen, his nose scrunching up slightly, “they told me what happened with your lunch money.”

“It’s fine,” he says, slightly defensively, “I told them it’s fine.”

“Theo, we’re just worried that’s all, you should have told us if someone is making you give them your lunch money,” Emily replies, her hands in her lap as she plays with her rings.

“He’s not making me,” Theo says, sighing after he does, clearly not intending to reveal what he had.

“Ok,” Aaron says, exchanging a quick look with his wife, “what’s going on then?”

Theo stares at them for a second, before looking at the floor. “His name is Adam, his mom can’t afford to give him money for lunch, and she works nights so can’t make it for him,” he shrugs, still avoiding eye contact, “so I give him mine every other day.” He flicks his eyes back up to them, before looking back down, “I tried to give it to him every day but he wouldn’t take it.”

It shocks them into silence for a moment, and Emily looks at her husband before she stands, walking over to her son and crouching in front of him, ignoring the protest in her knees as she does so. She hooks a finger under Theo’s chin and makes him look at her.

“Theo, that’s incredibly sweet,” she says, making sure her voice doesn’t portray the emotion she’s feeling, “and I’m very proud of you for being so kind, but you have to tell us, or a teacher, if you find something like that out. It’s not up to you to fix that.”

He looks past her to Aaron, and without turning around she knows her husband has nodded in agreement with what she has said, before Theo looks back at her.

“Ok.” Theo agrees, nodding. “Can I go play my game now?”

Emily huffs out a laugh. “Of course.”

Theo stands up and hugs her, running over to do the same with Aaron, before he’s out of the room. Emily stands up straight, groaning as her knees ache. Aaron is next to her before she stands completely, his arms wrapping around her from behind.

“How the hell did we make the world's sweetest kid?” She asks, leaning into her husband as he kisses her temple. She turns in his arms and bands her arms around his back, mentally planning the call she’d make to the school in the morning.

“I have no idea,” Aaron says against her skin, “we’re sending him to school with double the lunch money tomorrow, right?”

“Damn straight we are.”

___

June 2037

Theo calls her before he comes to the house, as conscientious as he had ever been. She hugs him tightly the second he walks in the door, the first joy she had felt in weeks thrumming through her veins.

“Congratulations, honey. I’m so happy for you.” She says as she pulls back, smiling at her son, hers only widening as he smiles back.

“Thanks, Mom. We’re so relieved it’s finally happened.”

She looks past him onto the porch and sees he’s alone, frowning when she looks back at him.

“Where are they then?” She asks, raising her eyebrow at him, “I want to hug my son-in-law and my granddaughter.”

Theo, and his husband Sam, had been fostering a little girl called Florence for years, since she was only a few months old. They’d found out that morning that they were finally getting an adoption hearing, that their daughter would finally be fully and legally theirs.

“Flo insisted on going to the park,” Theo says as he rolls his eyes at the little girl's behaviour, “I dropped them off on the way here.”

Emily hums in her throat as she walks towards the kitchen, Theo following suit, “Tell her Nanna remembers everything, and I’ll keep this in mind next time she tries to scam cookies out of me.”

“You’re a soft touch and you know it,” he says, taking the coffee pot from her hands and proceeding to make it for her, “you’d give any of the kids whatever they asked for.”

She can’t argue with that, it was something Aaron had said multiple times since Jack’s first child had been born. However protective of their children she had been, it was increased tenfold for their grandchildren. She’s suddenly reminded of something, and she smiles at her son.

“Oh, I was in the attic going through some of your dad’s things, and I found something for you.”

She’s already walking towards the dining room where she’d been keeping some things, the self-imposed job keeping her busy, when she hears Theo call after her.

“Mom,” he sighs, “what have I told you about going up there, we’ll do it for you.”

Emily rolls her eyes at his over-protectiveness, making sure she’s back in the room so he can see,

“Honey, it’s fine,” she says, her hands behind her back, the item she wanted to give him hidden from view, “you ready?”

“Ready.” He says, smiling indulgently at her. She raises an eyebrow and he sighs at her, closing his eyes and putting his hands out.

Emily carefully places the worn stuffed animal in his hands, the orange fur faded through years of love, and age. She knows Theo knows what it is immediately, his smile widening as his eyes open, settling on his oldest friend. He chuckles and holds the toy a little tighter.

“Hi Archie,” he says, shaking his head, “it’s been a while.”

“He was up there in a box of your old things,” Emily explains, “I thought you could give him to Flo.”

“Thanks, Mom, I love that idea.” He says, briefly looking up at her before he looks back down at the orange cat, “Do you remember when Dad and Jack drove to get him after we left him behind in that god awful apartment?”

“Yeah,” she replies, the memory of it seizing up her chest, “I do.”

Theo looks up at her, his dark eyes shining. “I wish he was here, that I could tell him about the adoption too.”

“Oh, honey,” she says, closing the gap between them and putting her hand on his arm, “He loved her so much, she was part of this family the second you brought her here for the first time,” she smiles sadly at him, her throat tight, “another Hotchner girl who had him wrapped around her finger.”

Theo laughs through his tears and nods, “You’re right.” He clears his throat and tries to smile at her, “Will you come to the hearing? We’d love to have you there.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

___

February 2025

Emily can’t help but wince as she hears the brakes on the car squeal as it pulls into the driveway.

It was Amelia’s 16th birthday and, as promised, Aaron was taking her on her first driving lesson. He’d taught both of the boys. There had been a few tense moments that had led to crossed words, but overall it had gone smoothly, both Theo and Jack passing the first time.

She knew that Aaron was worried about teaching Amelia. Their youngest was the one who pushed back the most, the one who attempted to break boundaries.

Amelia and Aaron had always been close, the blip in their relationship when she didn’t recognise him after they had gone into hiding mostly a distant memory. Things were changing now she was a teenager, the usual distance put between child and parent that always hurt, but she knew this was different for Aaron. It reminded him too much of when their daughter, only a baby at the time, shied away from him and acted as if he was a stranger.

Emily schools her features as the door opens, Amelia bursting in, excitement flowing off of her.

“That was so cool,” she exclaims, slumping down onto the couch next to her mother, “I love driving.”

Emily laughs at her daughter’s enthusiasm, “You had fun then?”

“Oh, so much fun!” She replies, “I’m going to go FaceTime my friends, what time is dinner?” She asks, already standing up, her phone in her hand.

“We’re meeting your brothers at 7 pm, so we’ll leave here at 6.30.” Emily answers.

“Oh, maybe I could drive to the restaurant?”

Emily finally looks at her husband and has to stop herself from laughing at the way his eyes widen.

“I think we’ll let your dad drive, honey.”

Amelia is already mostly out of the room, agreeing with just a noise as she disappears. It’s only when her bedroom door upstairs closes that Aaron slips onto the couch next to Emily, his head leaning back.

“That bad, huh?” She asks, no longer hiding her amusement.

“You have no idea.” He says, turning his head to look at her. “She knows no fear, and that, apparently, extends to the rules of the road.”

Emily does laugh at that and she shifts towards him, pressing her lips to his cheek.

“Poor, baby.”

He puts his arm around her, pulling her into his side, and she goes willingly, snuggling up into him.

“I love her so much, sweetheart. I’d go to the end of the earth for her, but I don’t know if I can teach her how to drive.”

Emily places her hand on his leg and runs her thumb back and forth over the material of his pants.

“She can’t be that bad.”

“She asked what the indicator is, 5 minutes before the end of the lesson. We’d been using it for almost an hour.”

Emily hides her smile in his neck. “We all start somewhere love.” She shifts to kiss his cheek. “Are you sure this isn’t all mostly because your little girl is growing up?”

He pokes her in her side, tickling at her ribs. “No profiling.” He sighs, turning his head to kiss her temple. “Are you sure you can’t teach her?”

She pulls away from him, her eyebrow raised. “Oh no,” she says, smiling at him, “we agreed a long time ago, I do the sex talk, and you teach them how to drive.”

He groans and closes his eyes, his head leaning back against the couch again.

“Your dad warned me about this years ago,” he says, almost as if he isn’t aware he’s talking, “he told me you were a nightmare to teach.”

“He said what?”

___

June 2037

Emily closes the door behind her as she gets home from a coffee date with JJ and Penelope. They’d forced her to go, an attempt to get her out of the house that she was strangely grateful for. The last time she’d seen them had been at Aaron’s funeral, and she hadn’t been able to bring herself to speak to them beyond the usual pleasantries, all of her focus on her children and holding herself together.

“Mom, good timing,” Amelia says, appearing into view, “I was just thinking about dinner.”

She can’t help but smile as she looks at her daughter. It was strange to think Amelia was now older than she had been when she’d met Aaron, then when she’d married him. She didn’t know how it had happened, how the once little girl was now this woman standing in front of her. Her dark hair piled on top of her head, the nose ring she’d had put in as a teenager, the one Aaron hated at the time, still going strong.

“Hi sweetheart,” Emily replies, placing her purse down, “how was work?”

“It was good, I met Jamie for lunch.”

Emily smiles at that, at the flash of something she doesn’t miss across Amelia’s face. She’d been staying here since Aaron was admitted to hospital during the couple of weeks before he died. At first, it was under the pretence that their house was closer to the hospital than her apartment. Then it was so she could help Emily with the funeral. Since then they hadn’t spoken about it. Amelia still here, sleeping in her childhood room, and only popping home to grab some things and briefly see Jamie.

“You don’t have to stay here you know,” Emily says softly, “I’ll be ok.”

Amelia freezes on the spot, and frowns, an expression that was just so Aaron it makes Emily smile. “Mom,-”

“I appreciate it, Mills,” she says, closing the gap between them so she can reach out and hold her daughter’s hand, squeezing it tightly, “I appreciate it so much, but you can’t just put your life on hold for me.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” She says defensively, her eyebrows creasing even deeper.

“Jamie must miss you,” Emily offers up, smiling tightly, “I remember how quiet it seemed around here when you first moved out.”

Amelia sighs and squeezes her mother’s hand. “I just don’t want you to be by yourself.”

Emily smiles at Amelia before hugging her, blowing out a breath as she feels how tightly she holds her back, her fists grabbing at the back of her shirt like she hadn’t in years.

Amelia had always been the loudest of their children. The most outspoken, the one filled with comebacks and sass, witty in a way Aaron had always claimed aged him. It made it easy to forget that she was also the most emotional of the three of them. Always so in tune with the emotions of those around her that she almost felt what others were feeling.

“That’s very sweet of you, love,” Emily says, pulling back from Amelia and smiling at her, “but I’ll be ok.”

Amelia uncurls one of her hands from behind Emily and wipes tears from her cheeks.

“I remember when I was younger I’d always be so jealous that you all remembered what happened with Foyet and I didn’t.” She admits, her lower lip trembling, “ Like I’d missed out on something huge that bonded you all together. But…I never knew what it was like to live without Dad. And now I do and I hate it.”

It tips Emily over the edge, her own grief hitting her again at full force at the sight of her daughter falling apart. She hugs her again as tightly as she can, trying to provide the comfort she doesn’t feel herself. She doesn’t know how long they stand there, locked in a tight embrace in the hallway of what used to be a busy home, but they take the time they need.

“How about,” Emily says, pulling back enough to look at Amelia, gently wiping tears from her face like she hadn’t done since she was little, “we go get enough tacos to last a week, come back here and eat all of them, and fall asleep in front of a movie we’ve seen a thousand times,” she smiles, and Amelia does too, both of them ignoring the shake to them, “and then you can go home tomorrow.”

Amelia laughs and nods, “That sounds perfect.” Before Emily can pull away, and head towards the door, Amelia hugs her again. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too.”

___

January 1999

They’d talked about it. It was something they’d discussed on and off for years. Vague conversations about kids that started as thinly veiled comments in their early days, to more serious discussions as their relationship progressed.

They both wanted children, she knew that. Sometimes she’d catch Aaron staring at her as she took her birth control in the morning, something she had consistently taken since she was 15. Despite that, she was still nervous as she waited for him to get home, her old habit of picking at her thumbnails coming back, her leg bouncing up and down.

She was due a birth control review, the reminder from Joanne’s office on their kitchen counter, and to her, it seemed like the right time, the moment to take the step they had been skirting around for a little while now. She wanted to have a baby with him, to build their family. To be a mother.

“Are you ok, love?”

She jumps and looks up to find him looking at her, his eyebrow creased in concern. “Sorry, I didn’t realise you were home.”

“Clearly,” he quips, sitting next to her on the couch. He kisses her, his palm on her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

She forces a smile at him. “What makes you think something is wrong?”

He tucks some of her hair behind her ear. “Well, you didn’t hear the door open,” he starts, before his hand seeks hers out, bringing it into her eye line, “you’ve torn your cuticles to shreds,” he puts his arm around her and she settles, “and, I’m your husband, I like to think I know you.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Stupid profiling.” Her eyes meet his and he’s looking at her expectantly. She blows out a steady breath. “My birth control review is coming up,” she says, flashing him an unsteady smile, “I got the reminder today. I was thinking…I might not go.”

She watches as he processes what she has said, realisation hitting him within seconds, his expression barely changing, only noticeable to her.

“Oh.”

“I could,” she says quickly, “get another year's worth, but I just thought-”

“Don’t go.” He says, smiling at her, cutting her off before she could spiral any further. She feels warmth spread throughout her chest, happiness threatening to overwhelm her, her smile wide enough to split her face in two.

“Really?” She asks, her voice quiet, afraid if she was too loud she would break this moment between them.

“Really,” he replies, kissing her fiercely, “let’s try for a baby.”

She smiles against his lips, kissing him again, shifting so she was sitting on his lap, her knees on either side of his hips.

“I love you so much,” she says in between kisses, never fully pulling away from him.

“I love you too,” he replies, pulling her impossibly closer, his hands sneaking under her shirt.

“Aaron,” she exclaims, laughing as he lifts the material, her shirt coming over her head, “what are you doing?”

“Making a baby with my wife,” he says as if it was obvious, and she shakes her head at him, undoing his shirt despite her laughter.

“I took the pill this morning, honey,” she replies, groaning slightly as he pulls her further into his lap, “it’s going to take a little time-”

He cuts her off with his lips on hers, his fingers trailing the lining of her bra, he stamps another kiss to her lips before pulling away.

“I know,” he says, kissing her again, “but we can have fun practising.”

She smiles at him, her cheeks aching with it.

“I can’t argue with that.”

___

May 2037

He’s sleeping by the time the doctors let her into his room. They’d stabilised him as much as they could without breaking the DNR signed years ago. Sits next to him, her hand over his, and she blows out a breath and tries to calm herself.

“I was by myself when Mom died.” Emily says to the quietness of the room, the silence threatening to crush her. She threads her fingers through his and pushes hair off of his sleeping face. “You were on your way. I was by myself but I didn’t feel alone. I haven’t felt alone in so long. You’ve always been there,” she wipes a thumb under her eye, the tear she wiped away immediately replaced, “or the kids have. But I feel it now. I feel so alone and you’re still here.”

“Em?”

She looks at him and sees he’s awake, groggy but awake, and she smiles at him.

“Hi honey, how are you feeling?”

“Terrible,” he admits, his voice weak, “what happened?”

“A stroke,” she says, unlinking her hand from his to move some of his hair from his forehead, “A small one, according to the doctor, like that makes it better.”

He smiles at her, a glint in his eyes that lets her know he’s in there, that she’s talking to her Aaron. A rarity these days, a precious jewel in amongst all of the confusion and fear there usually was.

“How much did you yell?” He asks, raising his eyebrow.

“Enough.” She replies, smiling at him before they lapse into silence again.

“This next bit is going to be hard.” He says, linking their fingers together. It was something they had done hundreds, thousands, of times throughout their time together. Something automatic. Something she had often done without thinking. A passing show of affection, a quick way to say ‘I love you’ without words. They’d stopped needing to say it so long ago.

She closes her eyes and tries to memorise it. The feel of his wedding band against her skin. The warmth of his hands. The roughness of the callouses he still had on his thumb, even all these years after he retired, as it rubbed back and forth over her wrist. She tries to remember it all, to make sure it’s seared into her memory.

She’d forgotten how it felt to hold his hand once before. It wasn’t something she wanted to lose again, not when she was already losing him.

“I know.” She replies, sniffing as she tries to hold back emotion, shaking her head slightly as if she could get rid of it. As if it was rain on a jacket, easily wiped away. “I love you. So much. Mother always said that I love you too much.” She tries to smile but fails, her chin wobbling with the force of her sadness. “This is the first time I think she may have been right.”

“No, sweetheart. It’s never too much.” He squeezes her hand. “It’s never been too much. I love you, and I don’t regret a single second of all of it.”

She tries to laugh but it comes out as a sob, her spare hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Not even the part where a serial killer forced me and the kids into hiding?”

“Not a second of it.” He repeats, and he smiles at her like he hasn’t in weeks. She sees their life together in it. Everything they’ve survived. All the love they shared. The arguments and the inevitable apologies that followed. The comfort and the tears, the way they had got each other through. Impossibly more in love each day than the last.

She was going to miss it, miss him.

“Me neither.” She says, smiling at him despite her tears. “I’d do it all again.”

They talk until he falls asleep, and she allows herself to act as if this was normal for them. That this wasn’t one good day in amongst so many bad ones.

She tells herself it isn’t the last good day, that they have more time, until it becomes clear that it was.

___

They are alone when it happens. Just the two of them as his ragged breathing comes to a slow stop, her hand tight around his. She feels selfish for how grateful she is that it happened that way, that she’d been afforded their final moments together.

A lifetime of love, and happiness. Bitter arguments and tears. Joy and grief and each other. All coming to a quiet end.

She wouldn’t change a second of it. The pain she feels as her children arrive, the brave face she slides on so easily, was the price she paid for getting to love him for so long.

___

January 1993

He was late.

It was his first day at his new job and everything that could have gone wrong that morning had done so. It felt like everything had been against him since Haley left, like the universe had decided it just wasn’t enough for him to be left by his fiancee just before their wedding.

Aaron turns down yet another hallway that seems to lead to nowhere and he sighs, wondering vaguely to himself how the hell he was supposed to provide security for the people who lived here if he couldn’t even find his new boss's office.

“Are you lost?” A voice says from behind him. He turns around and that's when he sees her, looking at him with her eyebrows raised. She was beautiful, almost ethereal, her dark eyes full of mischief. “Do you need help?”

“I…I need to find Ambassador Prentiss’ office.” He says, cursing himself slightly at the stutter at the start of his sentence. She smiles a little wider, and he wonders if she has this effect on everyone she meets.

“Oh, that’s easy,” she says, walking over and standing next to him, “I tend to just follow the air of judgement and patronisation on the air,” she winks at him, “it smells oddly like Chanel Number 5.” He opens his mouth, unsure what to say and she laughs at him. “It’s down the corridor and to the left, I’ll walk you there.”

“Thank you.” He says, unable to stop himself from smiling at her as they walk together. “How long have you worked here?”

He knows it's a stupid question based on her appearance alone, that anyone wearing sweatpants and a tank top likely wasn’t on the clock, but small talk had never been his thing. He’d always left that part up to Haley.

She laughs at him. “Oh I don’t work here,” she smiles. “I’m Emily, I’m sure you’ll learn all about me soon enough.” They come to a stop outside of an office door and she gestures to it. “Here we are.”

He smiles gratefully at her. “Thank you, Emily.”

“No problem…” She drifts off, looking at him expectantly.

“Agent Hotchner.” He offers, a tight smile on his face, the title still strange to him.

Emily smirks at him. “Your mother called you agent?” She asks, her eyes sparkling and it makes him laugh, something about her leaving him unsettled but wanting more.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Aaron. My name is Aaron.”

“Well, Agent Aaron Hotchner, it’s nice to meet you,” Emily replies, her smile widening. “And if you need anyone to show you around here let me know.”

She goes to walk off, to return to whatever she had been doing when she had taken pity on him in the hallway, and something in him screams at him to stop her. Inexplicably wanting more time in her presence, to get to know more about her.

“Emily,” he says after her, waiting for her to turn back around, her eyes meeting his again, “I’d like that.”

“Ok then, see you tomorrow Agent Hotchner.” She smiles at him, bright and beautiful and he can’t help but wonder if everything was about to change for the better.

“Yeah,” he replies, returning her smile, “see you tomorrow.”

___

“If tomorrow starts without me, don't think we're far apart, for every time you think of me, please know I'm in your heart.” - David Romano

-x-

Tag list:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @sneetchestoo, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis22

Join my tag list here!

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #WTBVerse

71 notes · View notes

nonobadcat · 1 year

Note

I literally adore the way you write shiggy and I've gotten obsessed over that little crusty. You write all bnha characters amazingly and that's why I'm very curious about your dabi ban. Just out of pure curiosity why not dabi despite you'd write him amazingly? I mean to be honest there's million good reasons to leave that melting ass on his own but which did you pick ? Thank you for your amazing content all the same and you're the best!

Oh that. Long story short - I have daddy issues. (・・；)

TW: alcoholism, death, child abuse

So... part of the reason I'm so awol on and off for these last 6 months is my father died of his alcoholism and alcoholism induced dementia in Dec.

My childhood was a mixture of two types of memories:

A loving, supportive father who was super proud of me to other people (and many times, to my face).

A: Showed up to every childhood play, project, band concert even if it meant being penalized for taking off work B: Damn near punched a female gym teacher who told me to "suck it up and stop pretending" when my endometriosis left me so anemic I was blacking out. C: Raised me to learn that my opinion was valued and of equal weight to the adults in the home when making family decisions. As a result, numerous adults told my parents "It's so weird. Your daughter looks me in the eye and speaks to me like an adult even though she's so young". D: Supported my mom through multiple college degrees by handling my brother and I, the cooking, the bills, the mail and anything else she didn't have the emotional energy for. E: Being a life line to numerous friends with PTSD from military service, dangerous marriages, etc. When it came to protecting others, my father never backed down from a bully even if it put him in danger for his own life.

A red faced, frothing mad, perfectionist who screamed me out of the house over the following things:

A: The dishes being in the wrong place in the dishwasher (the "correct location" changed weekly so it was impossible to do it right) B: Being unable to spell words which were far below my reading level despite having perfect grades in every subject and a vocabulary large enough to pass the English component of the GRE at 12 years old. (Turns out I have dyslexia. Found that out at the age of 25.) C: Telling him I was too scared to drive with him because he was unable to stand up. We now know that, for him, that means his BAC was over 3.0%.

There is much more to it then that, but this is what I am will to talk about on the internet.

As to my fathers death: he got black out drunk, injured himself, had multiple surgeries to fix the injury, had been detoxed for 3 months, was literally coming home in 12 hours, and died from a massive blood clot to the lungs (while on 3 blood thinners) as my mother was walking through the threshold to his hospital room.

So... what does this have to do with Dabi? This basically:

Don't get me wrong. Unlike most of tumblr, I do not hate Endeavor. I think his character is well done, the Todoroki's varied reactions to the abuse are horrifyingly realistic, and the way he projects a public image and a private image is spot on. Honestly, in many ways, he's the opposite of my dad's sweet, soft sober personality, but the abuse resonates perfectly except for two things:

Endeavor canonically regrets what he did and tried to change (it'll never be enough, but he's trying).

My father couldn't remember, so there was neither regret nor acknowledgment of the abuse nor any attempts to change it.

As to which of the BNHA children I feel best represents me: it depends on the day. When I can recall the kindness, I'm Fuyumi. When I recall the heated arguments about how he was going to die of liver failure, I'm Shoto. When I recall how my mother had to spend her entire marriage being his "handler" at every social event, I'm Natsuo.

I when I recall all the times I hid with my cat in my room as he shrieked at me through the door... well...

However, unlike Shigaraki, I will never get closure for my abuse.

Where does that leave me?

I just can't bring myself to be romantic about the worst parts of myself. I want to forgive, if for no other reason then this hatred will eat my soul if I do not. However, my feelings are just so raw that Dabi hits too close to home.

#badcatasks #tw alcoholism #tw dabi #tw endeavor #tw child abuse #shit got real fast bro #I'm too much like Dabi #I wish I was more like Shigaraki

14 notes · View notes

amazeicallmind · 7 months

Text

My Experience Living In An RV Next To My Mom’s Family

This is going to be a bit different than my usual content.

Me, My Mom and My Dad moved with my mom’s family to a small town where we ended up having to live in small RVs next to a big house that they live in. We moved here because my grandma and my mom’s side has dementia and so my mom could help watch over her. For the first half of the year or so after we moved here it seemed like it was going good and everything was okay, although we ended up losing one of our dogs that suddenly and unexpectedly passed away. Then eventually it started to seem like my mom’s family didn’t want me and my mom here by the way they were acting and how they were being about things. Then eventually the septic tank ended up breaking or having a crack in it and apparently it was up to solely us to figure out how to fix it or call people to come and fix it, and it still hasn’t been taken care of months after it has broke. Then eventually the water pipe that we use to be able to get water to our RVs ended up having a crack in it and now we can’t get water to our place from that way. Then my mom ended up having to get surgery on her foot that she’s been having problems with for at least twelve or thirteen years from what I can remember, and she had to go stay with my older sister in Texas while she recovered from her surgery. That’s when my “aunt’s” tactics and true colors started shining through again, which I knew that she was still the same way she has always came off as but my mom thought that her sister had changed and became a more selfless person. My parents paid them $10,000 so we could live in this small terrible RVs in a small fenced in area on “their” land. We were under the impression since my parents chipped in with the land that it was all of our land. My dad also is not much better than my “aunt”, while my mom was recovering from her surgery my dad was supposed to fix up her RV so she could come back to it and be able to be with her dogs. But he has barely touched the RV and it has been almost two and a half months, because all he cares about is being able to get drunk since my mom’s family enables his alcoholism. Then about a month and a half ago our internet got turned off even though apparently my dad made a deal with the internet provider, but you can’t really trust words out of his mouth, so then apparently he asked my “aunt” if he could borrow some money for the internet and they said no because the septic tank is more important for “their” land which the reason that bothers is because I had a chance to get a remote job and start making money and my dad would have been able to pay them back a day later. I would have been able to pay them back eventually too if they would have just been willing to help us a bit, and they knew that I had a chance at getting that job. I don’t have a car so I don’t have many options, the only actual stores from us are quite a bit of distance away, and I was going to use the money I made from that remote job to try to get things that I needed like a car and also stuff for my dogs. Then eventually my “aunt” decided to randomly try to kick me out of my RV and make me and my dogs homeless because she is heartless, greedy and selfish. Then eventually one of my dogs got really sick and I tried really hard to help him with what I had the accessibility of being able to do, and I basically had no help because my dad wouldn’t get me what I asked him to get when I wanted it for my dog to try to help him and I didn’t have a way to get him to a vet and probably wouldn’t have been able to afford it if I did, which might have been different if I was able to do that job. I felt like I had no help trying to care for my dog and now he passed away too and he was my baby and he was only 5 years old. I’ve been having to use some mobile data internet from the government for the last month so I haven’t had many options on being able to get a job, it’s hard to find something you can do with just having mobile as an option.

#anecdote #rant #rvlife #toxic family

1 note · View note

spikeface · 3 years

Note

what do you think scott and stiles' dynamic was like before scott got bitten? i always wished we got a flashback because i looove scott during those first 5 minutes of the first episode (and also to see him with his justin bieber hair plus stiles in a backwards cap again)

Thank you for this ask! I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to reply.

A preface: my thoughts are based on canon, but what we have is sketchy enough that I think there’s plenty of room for different interpretations and headcanons. A lot of my thoughts come from the single data point of “Wolf Moon,” and as Lydia says, that’s not enough for a pattern.

I accept Posey and O’Brien’s headcanon that the two of them meet as toddlers in the sandbox at the playground, and add that Scott is living with his dad while Stiles’ mother dies, which explains why Scott doesn’t know much about her form of dementia, or Stiles’ panic attacks afterwards. In my mind, the two of them were close weird-kid friends before those things happened. Once Scott comes back, however, they become joined at the hip, a mix of simpatico and abandonment issues. In “Wolf Moon,” I see a dynamic where each of them gets to be his real self, and benefits from the other being his real self.

Between his parents’ divorce and his family’s financial issues, I think Scott feels a lot of pressure—both real and self-imposed—to be responsible, to not be a burden. Largely, he manages. He has a job, and gets decent grades, and grabs the groceries, and brings his mother dinner at the hospital. He’s a good kid who doesn’t complain or make problems. Melissa says she doesn’t have a lot of practice playing tough mom. We also see Scott agonize about messing any of that up, however: losing an inhaler, doing poorly on a test, disappointing his mother. The most obvious example to me is when he’s extremely stressed about being late to work (“Pack Mentality”):

SCOTT: Sorry. Sorry.

DEATON: You're all of two minutes late.

SCOTT: I just don't want you to think I'm slacking.

DEATON: Scott, I guarantee you, you're one of the least slacking kids in this town.

Scott acts like being two minutes late, one time, will cause Dr. Deaton to lose faith in him, even though he’s been firmly established in Deaton’s mind as a reliable employee. For Scott, any misstep is an opportunity to lose everything.

His friendship with Stiles is a break from that stress. Stiles wants to do something completely irresponsible like go into the woods to look for a body on the night before tryouts. We see Scott go, and then criticize the idea (“Wolf Moon”):

SCOTT: We're seriously doing this?

STILES: You're the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town.

SCOTT: I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow.

STILES: Right, 'cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort.

SCOTT: No, because I'm playing this year. In fact, I'm making first line.

STILES: Hey, that's the spirit! Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one.

SCOTT: Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?

STILES: Huh! I didn't even think about that.

SCOTT: And what if whoever killed the body is still out here?

STILES: Also something I didn't think about.

SCOTT: It's comforting to know you've planned this out with your usual attention to detail.

Some people read this as Scott being against the whole enterprise but doing it out of love for Stiles, which the text doesn’t dispute. I see it, however, as Scott indulging in the having-your-cake-and-eating-it pleasure of doing something you want to do but know you shouldn’t, while also criticizing it, which he can do thanks to the fact that Stiles comes up with the idea and insists they do it. Scott gets to do something irresponsible and complain and be an asthmatic little sarcastic kid, all things he doesn’t have a lot of room to do in his day-to-day life. Most importantly, Scott isn’t worried about losing Stiles’ regard as a result of any of that. I can even see Stiles’—admittedly snide—line about Scott’s “pathetically unrealistic” dreams being read by Scott in this light. Stiles doesn’t give a shit if Scott makes first line or not, because their friendship isn’t dependent on Scott’s achievements or behavior.

Stiles, meanwhile, is different from Scott in that he isn’t worried that he might mess up, but rather convinced he is messed up. He seems resigned to the (false) ideas that he killed his mother, and is a burden to his father, and is generally an unlikeable problem child. I read much of his attempts to help his friends and family as him trying to make up for the “fact” that he is unloveable, rather than prove himself worthy of love. As a result, it’s incredibly meaningful to him that Scott loves him the way he is. Even Scott’s criticisms of his plan are simply proof that Scott knows exactly who Stiles is, and is still there with him.

It isn’t as visible in those first scenes of “Wolf Moon,” but I think the last piece of this dynamic is that Scott trusts Stiles to get him out of whatever trouble they get into. Stiles gets the reputation as the man with the plan, but even he says it’s more about the plan to fix things once everything goes haywire: “You know, I actually used to be the one with the plan... Well, or at least a plan B” (“The Overlooked”). In “Wolf Moon,” Stiles’ plan is to go out in the woods at night. That’s pretty much the entirety of it, and he doesn’t seem all that fussed about the lack of detail. But then, when he’s caught, he nails the lie to his father to cover for Scott. He can’t pick Scott up in his Jeep, as he’ll do later in the season when Scott is lost and alone in the woods, but he’s there the next morning to check in. He goes with Scott to look for his inhaler. He does research about what could have bitten Scott. This dynamic fits, for me, with the idea that Stiles is fatalistically resigned to the idea that he’s a bad influence, but tells himself that he can make up for it. He’s got Plan B. We don’t see enough of Scott and Stiles before the bite to confirm it, but it makes sense to me that between his quick thinking, his bravery, his car, and the fact that he’s the sheriff’s son, Stiles can get them out of trouble.

The tragedy of all of this, of course, is how the bite changes everything. Suddenly, Stiles finds that the trouble he can usually worm his way out of has gotten a lot more serious, and he has to work to find a way to be helpful in a life or death situation. Scott, meanwhile, has no more space to be a kid. His emotions now have life or death stakes, as we see when his irritation with Stiles telling him not to go to the party suddenly turns into him nearly hitting Stiles. Scott now really does have no room to make mistakes, or do something irresponsible, or be a kid. He can’t be a teen wolf. He’s got to be a werewolf.

#teen wolf meta #teen wolf headcanon #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #long post

262 notes · View notes

blessednereid · 3 years

Text

LFLLLL Prologue: Project Partners

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

WC: 5k

Taglist: @rogershoe

╭╼|══════════|╾╮

You

╰╼|══════════|╾╯

While you were in the car, all you could think about was what got you in the position that you were in. With Lydia, with Isaac, caught in the middle of a murder investigation because of your brother and his friend.

Everything that used to make sense to you was crumbling. Your guards and your walls were dissipating with every waking moment.

It all started in September, and along the twenty-minute drive, you were determined to figure out how you got to your position. Even if it meant going through every single event that has happened since you met Isaac Lahey.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Project Announcement

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*══��╝

You were in your World History class. The unit you were currently learning about was The Industrial Revolution. Though, you weren't paying attention to the warm-up on the board. Instead, you were listening to Lydia recall the events that lead to her latest hookup before class started.

"So basically after we left the club, he told me that he wanted to show me something at his house. Obviously, I was feeling-"

"Alright, class. Settle down." Your teacher, Mrs. Goldblatt, had started speaking, and Lydia quickly stopped talking. The last time Lydia was caught talking over Mrs. GB was the previous year, and she had detention for half a month and missed practice.

"Today, I'm assigning you a project. Yes, you will be working in pairs. No, you won't get to choose your partners."

She turned to the board and wrote the words 'European Industrialization'.

"You will make a presentation about a country, as well as the ways they used industrialization. And you will add how it relates to modern industrialization today."

You groaned, but the rest of the class stayed silent. Your teacher didn't seem to notice as she continued speaking.

"You will write on a slip of paper the names of a maximum of two students who you cannot get along with and give it to me in five minutes. I don't want any arguments in my class."

You took a slip of paper from your bag and wrote the names: Christina Goldblatt, your teachers' daughter, who was a stuck-up brat, and Isaac Lahey. You had heard from former partners of his that he was quiet and hard to read. Seeing as how you had to communicate actively with a partner, you felt like you couldn't work with him.

"Also, seeing as how there is one extra student in this class, my daughter Christina has elected to work by herself."

The five-minute timer soon went off, and everyone walked to the front to give their teacher a white sheet of paper with their name and one or two more on it.

Once she had the slips of paper, she began working on partner assignments. She told the rest of the students to work on their nearly due classwork and then finish missing work.

You had decided to ignore her and work on your one missing assignment. You felt like you would be able to focus more without the worry of finishing it later.

Within twenty minutes, she had finished the pairings and called out names. Apparently, these would also determine your seating positions for the rest of the project duration, which would last three weeks.

She called out the names starting in alphabetical order, skipping names she had already called with their partner. You only paid attention to the pairings of your friends.

"Mahealani, Danny, and Martin, Lydia." Lydia tried to argue her way into working with you, which only prompted your teacher to threaten her with another detention.

"McCall, Scott, and Stilinski, Stiles," she said, which was confusing seeing the chaos they caused when together.

She went through all the names, even down to the Z's skipping your name. Lastly, there were four people left.

"Zabka, Madeline, and Zabka, Madison," she finished.

Finally, there were just two people left: You and Isaac Lahey. You knew this was why she skipped you. She had heard your protests when she started every lesson. You assumed she ignored it because she favored you for some reason. When in reality, she was pairing you up with the one person whose personality most clashed with yours.

"But, Mrs. Goldblatt, why can't I work with Lydia? Lydia and I do projects well together, and we have a good partnership."

"Ms. Stilinski, I already told you that you can't pick your partner. Have a seat!"

You smiled bitterly, and though you gracefully walked to your assigned seat, on the inside, you wanted to storm out of the classroom and sulk in the library.

Spurs of conversation spun about in front of you, and the lack of communication between you and your partner made you feel like you were stuck in the worst corner of hell. It made you feel lonely when you weren't alone.

You glanced at your partner, who was beside you. His head was down, and his eyes refused to look anywhere but his paper. He didn't look like he was focused, more like he was trying to look anywhere that wasn't you.

"So, it looks like we're partners…" you said wistfully.

He looked at you and shrugged before his eyes darted back to his desk, and he found the wood chippings on the side more enticing than before.

"You do know you have to talk to me if we're going to do this project. You have to talk to me."

He glanced your way, and you now held his attention, but his silence was unwavering.

"Say something, please?" He remained silent.

You groaned and banged your head on the desk.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Mall (One Week Later)

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

"Lydia, I just can't do it," you said before sipping your strawberry lemonade cooler. You were on your lunch break at your job, and Lydia had come to visit you.

"He's so hard to work with. We've had three meetings, and he hasn't said a single word to me. The most he's said is correcting me on a grammar error through a piece of paper."

You popped another pretzel nugget into your mouth.

"I just don't know, Lyds."

"Well, hun." She sighed. "Maybe try getting to know him."

"Lydia," you uttered stolidly. "He won't talk to me. How will I get to know him."

"Take him out to a park. Spin him around on those merry go round until he pukes. Then he'll be forced to talk."

"Lydia, I don't want him to hate me.

"I don't know. I just wish that GB gave me detention instead of partnering me with him."

Lydia sighed. "Y/n, go do something fun with him in an environment that doesn't make you wanna pull your pretty gorgeous hair out."

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Carnival

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

When Isaac came over to your house the next day, you already had your jacket on and convinced Stiles to let you take the car.

You led him out to the Jeep, and both hopped inside. When you started driving, Isaac was confused, but he still didn't say anything.

"Isaac."

He turned his head and hummed.

"I could be kidnapping you, and you still won't talk to me…" you remarked.

He turned his attention back to the window without saying another word.

You parked a decent distance away from your destination, wanting to see Isaac's reaction when he saw the carnival.

You began walking in silence, but somehow today, it was a peaceful silence. You thought that maybe it was the anticipation of the festivities or the notion you had that today would be the day he said something to you.

You paused for a moment, which prompted him to do the same. He turned to you, and you stepped forward and grabbed both his hands. His four fingers rested between your thumbs and the side of your pointer fingers calmly, and his thumb caressed your wrist absentmindedly.

"I don't know…" you tapped your foot while speaking. "I don't know why you don't like me. And I'll admit, maybe trying to get rid of you as a partner was a surefire way to get started off on the wrong foot."

Isaac's brows remained furrowed, and his gaze was fixed on you.

"But I want to change that… If you'll let me. Because you seem like a really cool person, and I want to get to know you."

Isaac pulled his hands out of yours and started walking in the direction that you lead him. You sighed at the action before he turned around.

"Where are we going?" he said blankly, but his voice made you smile. You started running ahead of him.

"Follow me!"

You both broke off into a run and only slowed down when you neared the entrance of the fairgrounds. You purchased two tickets for both of you before dragging Isaac inside the black metal gates.

"Ah, so this is where you're kidnapping me… Alright, where do I go to be tied up, Ms. Stilinski? And would this interfere with your dads' job perchance?"

His voice made you smile and laugh, and then he began to laugh as well.

"I'm sorry, that was a bad joke," he said, still laughing.

"No! It was a great joke."

You grabbed his hand and pulled him to the line for the carousel.

"You know, I've never actually been to a fair," you muttered.

"Me either. My mom used to tell me she would take me on my birthdays, but something always came up, so she would find creative things to do in the house."

"You make it sound like she can't take you anymore?" you frowned.

"She can't. She's dead." He said the words so calmly, but it made your heart immediately break into a million pieces.

"How'd she die?"

"Car crash."

You faltered. "I'm assuming you don't want a hug?"

"Why would you assume that?"

"When my mom died, people always gave me hugs as if that would bring her back, and I hated it."

"How did your mom die?"

"Frontotemporal dementia," you said. "Incurable."

"Damn," he deadpanned.

Soon you had reached the front of the line and boarded the carousel. You opted to take the pegasus with wings which were next to the black horse Isaac sat on.

The horses began spinning, and you noticed Isaac didn't look like he was having much fun.

"You alright?"

"These don't go fast, do they?"

"No, they don't. These rides are meant for kids, Lahey."

"Kids or not, this is way too slow."

When you got off the carousel, you didn't tell Isaac what ride you were going to next.

"Cover your eyes," you said blankly.

"There are hundreds of people here, Y/n. I'm not trying to actually get kidnapped."

You chuckled. "Ha-ha, Don't worry, I won't let the monsters get you."

He allowed you to step behind him and cover his eyes, but you were only able to walk a few steps before his height made your arms ache from stretching.

"Okay, I can't do this. It's whatever."

You laughed. "Just follow me, okay."

He grabbed onto your arms, and you chose to believe that he had his eyes closed.

You dragged Isaac through the fairgrounds once more before finding your spot in line. You spun him around, facing the opposite way so he couldn't see the ride.

"Do I really have to face the other way?" he said.

"Yes, you do!" you smirked triumphantly.

"Is it just so you can trick me into going back on the carousel?"

"Maybe…" He chuckled darkly at your comment.

"You know, I really like hearing your voice," you said calmly.

"Oh yeah? Well, I mean, I do have a pretty good voice."

You chuckled this time, his cockiness ignited something in you, and you felt alive for the first time since you two had started working together.

"You do… You should let more people hear it."

Every step you advanced in the line caused you to pull Isaac forward, but his mysterious demeanor pulled you to him.

"Alright, you can turn around now."

When he spun around, he cursed aloud. "Holy shit!"

In front of him stood one of the tallest drop towers he had ever seen.

When you reached the front of the line, you got onto the seats in the tower. Your stomach gurgled angrily in anticipation.

"You ready?" Isaac asked you. He had a wide grin plastered on his face, and he looked like a kid in a candy store.

Before you could answer, the tower rocked as it started to move up.

"Guess it doesn't matter now!"

You both looked out the windows beside your heads.

It was filled with colors, and everything looked minuscule.

You were slightly scared of the drop, but you found comfort in Isaac's smile. He never smiled, so for him to smile so brightly, it made you proud that you could draw that emotion from him.

The ride stopped for one minute. Then two. Suddenly it was 5 minutes.

Everyone began to wonder what had happened to the ride until the sudden drop.

The ride was filmed with shrilly screams. The sight in front of you blurred with the speed of the drop. Your ears popped from the sudden drop in altitude. Your heart stopped for moments, and you thought for a minute instead of falling back to the ground, you were going to meet your maker.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" Your screams resonated fear, but Isaac's eyes told you he only felt excitement.

You couldn't feel your hair on your shoulders, and you knew the speed and force were probably holding it in the air.

The ride had stopped. Your eyes were still bulging out of your head, and you felt sick in your stomach.

Isaac was still chuckling and didn't look the least bit shaken or stirred.

"HOW CAN YOU BE ALRIGHT AFTER THAT?"

"I don't know, I just felt… Free!"

"C'mon, let's go, weirdo."

Isaac stopped you once you exited the ride and pulled away from the line.

"Let me pick the next ride, yeah?" Isaac asked you.

"Sure."

He put his hands over your eyes and began pushing you towards your next destination. When he removed his hands, you were at the front of the line to get on the twisting roller coaster.

"We're going on that thing?"

"Yep!"

You blanched. "Isaac, I'll fall out the first time it goes bump."

He pulled you onto the ride anyways and buckled you in so that you couldn't go anywhere.

"Don' worry, you'll have fun."

"Oh, I know I'll have fun. I'm almost certain I'll die while having fun."

He chuckled and grabbed your hand from your bar that was in front of you.

"Better?"

You smiled, turned to the front, and waited for the ride to start.

When the carts began moving, it started at a tortuously slow speed, and you were actually feeling good; you knew that Isaac was probably bored.

"Aw, you picked a slow ride just for me?" you teased.

He simply chuckled before turning his head to the front, and your brows knitted in a frown.

You gave your attention to where his eyes were, but you didn't see anything that could cause the gleam of deviltry in his eyes.

He kept checking his watch, but when he did look up from it, he gave you a subtle wink and let go of your hand.

"AHHHHH!" You shrieked at the top of your lungs when the cart dipped down at the highest speed you thought imaginable.

The blue sky streaked past your view. If you were to imagine how you looked to others, you imagined the flesh around your mouth blowing in the wind cartoonishly and your hair visibly disheveled. You gripped harshly onto the metal rail in front of you, and the bars were so cold from being outside, you thought they would crack had you applied any more force.

The ride went like this often, going from slow and steady, allowing you to catch your breath, to energetically and rapidly fast, knocking the wind out of you completely.

"Having fun?" Isaac shouted in your ear, but you could barely hear past the whipping of the wind.

"NO!"

Whoops, and cheers could be heard from beside you as Isaac was screaming into the void, and you felt there wasn't enough hot coffee or burning fireplaces that could warm you up after this.

When the ride had reached its end, you had to blink slowly multiple times to recover from the wind that glazed them with cold air.

"You!" Isaac chuckled at your tone. "You did this to me! I feel like an ice block!" You shouted sarcastically.

"Aw, well, let's go warm you up then."

You growled at him as you got off the cart, but he held you in his arms to warm you up until you were able to get inside the safety of an insulated building.

"So, you got what you wanted," Isaac said slyly.

"To have my heart jumping in my body from my shoulders, knees, and toes?"

He chuckled. "No, I mean for me to talk."

"I guess I did."

"Why?"

"I like talking to people, I guess."

He smiled at you, and you reciprocated his grin.

"So, are we ever going to finish that assignment?"

"We can go right now and finish it if you want, but we still have two weeks to do it."

His forehead puckered in thought. "You're right. Let's finish the day here."

╔═════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════╗

Research and Reports(One Week Later)

╚═════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════╝

"Okay, now that we're done with info collection, we have to pick a theme…" you trailed off when you noticed Isaac wasn't paying attention.

"Isaac," you said while snapping your fingers in front of his face.

"You like ABBA?"

"Who doesn't like ABBA? Enough of that, we have to finish working. We only have a week left."

Isaac shot up from his chair and began to inspect the numerous posters on your walls with album covers of your favorite artists, movie premiere covers, pictures of you and your friends throughout the years.

"This is really cool!"

You sighed heavily. "I know it's cool, but I want to finish this project. I'm on a productive streak."

"We just started school like, two weeks ago. Why do we have a project?"

"Isaac!"

He raised his hands in defeat. "Okay, fine."

You groaned. "This is pointless. Education is pointless. I'm gonna become a stripper anyway."

Isaac's face heated up. "No, you won't. Your dad would kill you."

"I was actually looking up some themes last night. Put these in your search engine."

"Okay, but wait." You now held his attention. "Who calls it a search engine?"

You began laughing maniacally, and he grinned. "No, but I'm serious. Who has time to say all of that?"

You did what he told you and put different words related to the industrial period and the words "free theme" in your browser.

He had found almost five different themes for you to choose one from that would fit your project.

"Just didn't want to do extra work by making our own theme," he said modestly.

Suddenly, he noticed that your phone had a paper towel sticking out of the case and wrapping around the camera.

"Y/n… why is there toilet paper covering your camera?"

"Oh, that. It's so if people try to video-call me, I can lie and say my camera is broken."

"But why?" he asked, concerned.

You sighed. "I just don't wanna show my face to people today."

"But I can see your face clearly," he squinted while pushing a lock of hair out of your eyesight.

"You're an exception."

"But not the only exception?"

"No, it's you, Stiles, my dad, and Lydia."

He chuckled.

"Let's do this one," you said when you finished analyzing how each theme looked and the possibilities they had.

You and Isaac began typing on your laptop. You would take turns rotating between typing and reciting in thirty-minute increments.

By six p.m. that Sunday night, you had practically worked yourself to death and finished the assignment.

When you finished the credits slide, you frowned absentmindedly, but Isaac noticed.

"What's wrong, you don't like it?"

"No, I like it, it's just that…" you sighed. "We present it, and then what happens?"

"We get a good grade?" Isaac was genuinely confused and didn't know you were talking about what would happen with the two of you and your friendship.

"Would you say that you only started talking to me because of the project?"

His brows furrowed. "Yes, but wha-"

"And would you say that once the project ends… we would stop talking?"

Isaac sighed once he realized what you meant. "No, Y/n. I genuinely like talking to you."

Your face heated up at his words, and you felt yourself become at ease.

"Whew, okay. Nap or TV?"

Isaac felt himself right back to square one, confusion. "What?"

"Since we're done with the project, do you want to take a nap, or do you want to watch TV?"

"Are you sure your dad doesn't mind?"

"I don't know, but I don't think he would. Stiles always has Scott over. This should be fine. I do it with all my friends."

"O-okay," he murmured.

You jumped softly onto your bed and shuffled to find the remote, turning on the TV and patting down on the spot beside you.

"What do you want to watch?"

He told you that anything was fine, so you opted to watch My Babysitters a Vampire.

He stared at you incredulously.

You chirped at him. "What is it?"

"No, nothing."

"It has to be something? You don't wanna watch this."

"Alright, fine. It looks like a show for kids!"

You laughed. "That's because it is a show for kids! But it's interesting, so we're watching it unless you have something better."

When the episode started, you began chanting along with the theme song, and Isaac stared at you with doe-eyes.

When it was finished, you gave his glance your attention.

"What?" He simply shook his head in response and paid attention to the television.

By the time the next episode started, Isaac's head was on a pillow in your lap. Your legs were crossed, and your fingers threaded their way through his very silky tresses.

There was a suspenseful moment, and Isaac gripped onto your wrist, making you chuckle in your mind.

"Oh my gosh, did it just get hot in here?" You were feeling a flash of heat surge through your body and didn't know where it came from.

"Uh, I don't think so? Want me to get you some water?"

"Uh, no, it's fine! I'll just go get us some fruit bars. Do you want Mango or Strawberry?"

After he told you, you went to get a mango pop for yourself and a strawberry one for him. When you reached the kitchen, you splashed water onto your face to cool off.

You jogged back up the stairs and into your room. "Your strawberry freezy pop is coming right up!"

He giggled at your antics and allowed you to settle back into your position on the bed.

"Sorry, I watched without you."

"Oh, it's fine. I've seen the entire thing like 3 times."

That night when he left, you had a warm feeling in your heart, but you couldn't place what it felt like exactly.

Before you went to sleep, you made sure that the assignment was saved onto your flash drive and went to bed.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Presentations(One Week Later)

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

A week later, and it was the first day of presentations. Surprisingly, Isaac volunteered for the pair of you to present first. The nerves in your stomach were fumbling around and curling against each other so roughly you could barely speak.

Routinely, you and Lydia would go last. Silently comparing your projects with others and finding things your class liked about other presentations that you also did coincidentally. You did this to calm your nerves. But as you were going first, your routine wasn't doable.

Isaac had finished the slides that he was supposed to say, and then it was your turn.

You gulped and tried to muster the courage to start saying your lines. You felt sick in your stomach for a while. You felt the room freeze around you as if you were out in the snow with no jacket. You only started feeling more at ease when you felt Isaac's thumb rubbing against the back of your hand soothingly, along with Lydia and Stiles' encouraging smiles in the crowd. You were still nervous, but they were the eyes of your storm.

"Our modern technology today relates to the industrial period because…"

When your presentation was over, you let the applause fill your ears, but that wasn't what made the nerves go away. What made it go away was Isaac's proud gaze beading into your soul, and it made the world fade away.

Mrs. Goldblatt shooed you both away from the screen and back to your seats but gave you a piece of paper that you assumed was your score sheet.

You had gotten a 93%, but there was a pink note card that told you to meet her after class along with Isaac.

You sighed heavily and finished the walk back to your seat.

You and Isaac were in the back of the class and were okay to talk without a worry.

"What was that about, Y/n?"

"What do you mean?"

He sighed thoughtfully. "You just froze. I didn't think you froze."

You gulped, wondering whether or not you should share your fear with your new friend.

"I have stage fright..."

"What do you mean? You're a cheerleader. I've seen you perform."

"That's an ensemble act. When I'm by myself like that, I just tense up, and normally I say the wrong things. That's why I always go last."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

You dropped your head. "I didn't know you were going to volunteer to go first."

"I always do, to get it out the way." His eyes were soft and caring.

"It's not your fault Isaac. Besides, I didn't mess up that badly anyway. We're okay."

"But I still wouldn't have done that had I known."

"I appreciate your sympathy, but really, It's okay!" You reassured him softly, and you truly meant it. He had made you get over it, so it felt wrong for you to make him feel bad for something he wasn't aware of.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════╗

Student-Teacher Conference

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════╝

"Yes, Mrs. Goldblatt?" You spoke nervously while shifting around in the seat in front of her desk.

"What is it?" she was still facing down to her laptop.

Isaac spoke up. "You wanted to see us?"

She raised her head. "Oh, yes!

"I wanted to tell you why I partnered you both together. In-person that is."

"Y/n, you must be thinking that I did it to punish you."

Isaac interjected. "What do you mean punishment?"

"Ms. Stilinski had put your name down for students she wouldn't work well with."

"But besides that. I didn't do it to punish you. I did it because I wanted you to reach out of your comfort zone. Both of you. Ms. Stilinski, you typically work with people who are very talkative in class. Namely, Lydia.

"Isaac, I've heard from your partners that you are not as talkative. I put you two together because I knew this assignment would be easy to understand for you both. However, I assume the communication was not as simple?"

You both shook your heads.

"No, but you managed through it, and now you both will be able to socialize with people who have more or less social skills than you do."

You glanced guiltily at Isaac, who was avoiding your gaze. You hadn't told him that you put his name down, and while your reasoning may not have been resembling hatred, you thought it would still sting.

"You both may go. Have a good day."

When you walked out of the room, Isaac took off ahead of you.

"Isaac!" You yelled as you ran to catch up with him through the bustling crowd trying to get to their next class.

"Isaac, I swear, I only wrote your name down because I wanted a partner that was more… communicative."

"You could've told me," he stated simply, still not looking at you.

You pulled his arm back to stop him from walking before extending your arm to grab his chin and force him to face you.

"I'm sorry. It didn't seem important then, but I see how it could look bad now. You're a really great partner, Isaac. And I've said it before, and I'll repeat it, I'd love nothing more than to be your friend."

He exhaled through his nose. "You know, for some stupid reason, I just can't stay mad at you."

You smiled at his words. "I've been told that I have that effect on people."

"See you tomorrow?"

You pushed your eyebrows downwards. "What do you mean? It's a Saturday?"

"For MBAV," he said simply.

"Ohhhh. Gotcha!"

"See you then, Isaac."

You turned the other way to go to your next class when your cheek was met with a brief peck.

"See you," he whispered in your ear, but a ghost when you turned around. The action made your heart speed up, and his touch left much to be desired.

60 notes · View notes

theevangelion · 3 years

Text

Forever Girl: Epilogue Sneak Peek

AN: I am so sorry for breaking your hearts, sweet babies.

Emma sits perched on Charlie's desk, her fingers gliding along the edges, her heels kicking softly as though something is on her mind. It’s nothing new. Emma always has something on her mind, big innovations, big advances, insane technology developments that only make sense once she has decided to let the world in on her tinkering.

Charlie is used to it all by now. He just looks at his wife, feels like a permanently lovesick teenage boy, and then he shakes his head in concession.

“Do it, babe. I know you’re waiting.” Charlie fixes his cufflinks and adjusts his shirt collar in the reflection of the highrise glass.

“What?” Emma blinks.

“The thing you do.” Charlie waves it along. “Do the thing.”

“What thing?” Emma laughs.

“The thing where you’re very smart.” He turns to his wife, quite serious about it. “The thing where you have some insane, unbelievable, great idea and all I can do is stare at you in astoundment that I didn’t think of it first. So, do the thing.”

“Well,” Emma says, flattered and yet still seemingly conflicted about something. “I think it’s one that’s going to initiate an emotionally draining conversation, and we did agree that we wouldn’t do those anymore before lunch time…”

“Oh dear,” Charlie whispers mutely, closing his eyes. “That means it’s about one of my mothers. That means it’s probably a conversation better had sooner rather than later.”

“Are you in a present headspace for it? It can wait until you’ve had lunch if not.”

“No, no,” Charlie reassures. “We can have the conversation.”

Emma reaches behind herself and takes the hologram projector button from his desk. This means only one thing to Charlie: not only has Emma came up with an idea, she has also done the research, the analysis, and created a consequent presentation collating it all together.

He can’t help but laugh and try to stifle it, because having a wife who went to the trouble of presenting all of her ideas in this manner, so meticulously, so thoughtfully, was absolutely the reason he had never won an argument since they were children. It was also the reason Emma and Mom had always gotten along like a house on fire, Charlie knew that too.

“I adjusted the parameters on your nanotech project, ran some numbers and simulations… just for fun, just to give me something to do while I waited for the girls to finish school.” Emma shrugs, her hands moving in the air to zoom and adjust the projection of neural pathways. Then, she pushes the hologram over for Charlie to take a look at. “I think I’ve figured out a way to capture your mother’s entire imprint, Charlie.”

Charlie feels their nanotech is perhaps the greatest advancement mankind has made since the moon-landings, but it’s one that must always remain a secret. The world had only just started to become comfortable with the idea of aliens and settlers from distant worlds, and even then it was still a tumultuous process of shifting public opinion. If the public caught wind that he had perfected the human condition and created a new lifeform that would long outlive all of them…

Well, they’d start calling him Lex Luthor.

It was better for everyone if Luthor Manor remained disconnected from the world, cloaked and shielded away behind perception filters like a bubble reality made perfectly for Mama and Cyber Mom. No one could bother them that way, no one could snoop around and cause problems for their eternal happy ever after.

“Things are perfect just as they are, Emma. I drove up to the manor last week, Cyber Mom and Dementia Mom were relieving a family trip we took to Valencia when I was a little boy. Cyber Mom says that Mama’s been doing a lot better, apparently Mama has been getting airtime for morning flights outside — it’s the first time she’s got to fly in years.” It warms his heart that his mother finally remembered how to fly again. “Things are good, is what I’m trying to say,” he emphasises. “Better than they have been in years. She’s stable and her symptoms are improving a little.”

But Emma just sits there with this pensive look on her face, her lips wound inside of her teeth, her copper eyebrows worked half way up her forehead as though he doesn’t understand.

“Okay, fine.” Charlie sighs. “Do the thing. Tell me what it is that I’m not understanding.”

“I’m not talking about Lena’s imprint,” Emma says plainly. “I’m saying that I’ve figured out a way to replicate Kara.”

Find it HERE!

#Forever Girl #TheEvangelion

62 notes · View notes

spursnroses · 3 years

Text

So I’m still trying to process what happened last night. I need to write it out because I have no one nor place for it. First, I am going to warn you that this post will contain triggers such as mental illness, suicidal ideations/suicide that involves a family member, violent threats/verbal abuse, sexual abuse, alcohol abuse, and family death. Please do not read if you cannot handle such heavy content.

Last night my mother ended up drinking quite a bit, and we got into a fight.

She threw a temper tantrum for a very stupid reason - her phone died and her only phone charger was too short because over a couple of weeks ago my cat chewed up her other one which she left out despite knowing about his chewing habits by the way. She ranted about wanting to kill my cat/wishing he would die. She then threatened to take my phone and break it, so she made several attempts to grab it from me, but I refused. It turned into a wrestling match - I tried shoving her off me.

Of course, I grew upset. I kept telling her to stop or that she was making me angry. She wouldn’t listen. She deliberately kept me from going into my room so I could remove myself from the situation. I finally gave up and pushed my phone into her chest: “You want my phone so damn bad. Here you go.” I walked past her into the bathroom to wash off the blood from the scratch she gave me in the process. This made her angrier and shoved my phone back into my jacket’s pocket violently and tried to rip my jacket. She started to mock me for being hurt. She deflected by making claims that she was just playing around and that I always treat her she was such a horrible person and mother. That she’s an abuser. That I should go live with my “father” who never had anything to do with me in my entire life.

I tried to defuse the situation once again by trying to console her because I already felt tired by this point. I brought her a cup of water then she went to bed hoping she’ll just sleep it off. I was wrong.

She came back out and rummaged through the kitchen’s drawers. I pleaded with my mother from killing herself for however many times. She first cut her arm and her leg. She stood there in the kitchen with a knife to her throat. Eventually, I was able to calm her down. When she returned to her room, I immediately hid all the objects she could hurt herself with and she finally went to sleep. For many years, ever since I was a child, I lived with a severely mentally ill and single parent. My youngest memory of her mental illness remains fresh in my mind - I would be six years old and get up in the mornings to make breakfast and wandered outside alone while she still slept in bed almost all day. I found myself terrified by her violent outbursts or meltdowns - I would lie through my teeth to avoid her anger - sometimes I still am terrified. She depended on me a lot for emotional support despite being a child; wanting to be the best daughter, of course, I did whatever I could to make her happy. People would constantly compliment me on how mature I was for a young girl. I used to be highly sensitive during my early childhood - I would cry at the simplest “no” - but I think it had a lot to do with emotional neglect. As I grew older, I detached myself from emotions. Today I still struggle with expressing how I feel.

I carry a lot of trauma from life - my mother, though most of it is unintentional, emotionally manipulated and abused me for who knows how long and her past boyfriend who sexually abused me when I was five and six years old. Growing up deaf came with no easy tasks too. I already knew I was different from other kids when I walked on the playground with no friends. I experienced constant fatigue and anxiety.

Recently, I lost both of my grandparents who helped to raise me; they were my biggest support system. In 2015, my grandma unexpectedly grew ill and passed away on my birthday. My grandpa had early-onset dementia, and it was awful and stressful. He eventually succumbed to his bodily ailments in 2019. I watched and said my final goodbyes to both of them on their deathbeds. That’s when the drinking escalated especially since my grandma died. Alcoholism runs deep in my family. My grandpa, unfortunately, drank, his brother and sister also drank to themselves to death, and now my mother and aunt drink heavily.

When my mother drinks, she binges to the point she rages or blackouts. She has called in sick to work multiple times before because she’s so hungover. 50/50 of the time when she’s drunk, she’ll start picking fights with me. On a few occasions, it has become physical such as blocking my path or cornering me but most of the time it evolves into name-calling, berating, and guilt-tripping. She often breaks things when she goes into a white-hot rage. There are dents on the walls of the bathroom. A few weeks ago, she shattered one of my grandma’s possessions. She once ripped the front door off its hinges which I later fixed. She sometimes brings strange men to the house, and last year, one of them crawled into my bed naked and grabbed my wrist waking me up. It scared me so badly. Thankfully he didn’t do anything to me because I jerked away and asked, “What are you doing?” and he left my room. I woke my mom up and had him leave. My mother still had the gall to say I was just dreaming it. After that incident, I installed a lock on my door and sleep with a tazer under my pillow.

I have accepted at this point in life it is out of my control. I can’t stop her from drinking. I can’t force her to seek treatment.

She always had a poor temper and suicidal tendencies though. It just intensified with alcohol. One time she took a bunch of pills with vodka and fell in the shower mostly unresponsive. I called my aunt for help, and she came over; so did the paramedics. She spent a few days in an institution for observation and treatment, but that never really helped her. This was not her first episode; she ended up there a few times - over a year ago her former counselor called the police on her and they came to the house. One of the policemen found the pill bottle with my name on it and accused me of giving my mother the bottle though this situation was beyond my control. She ended up at the hospital then transferred to the institution for suicide watch. She never became the better for it. She refuses and claims nothing ever helps her. Lately, I have been trying to distance myself from my mother. It’s difficult to set boundaries because she constantly crosses them. I have grown to become very angry and resentful especially towards her. My mother is extremely emotionally enmeshed. She depends on me for emotional support, but after so many years, it is starting to wear me down. I no longer want to feel responsible for her emotions. I honestly have no support system in place. I don’t have any close friends to talk about what I’ve been going through. My aunt is clueless about what goes on at home, and I don’t intend to tell her about it because I know it just would cause more problems. Sometimes, I just want to scream, kick, and cry. My life can be literal purgatory. I feel very trapped. I want so badly for something or someone to whisk me away from this life. It amazes me that I don’t act as fucked up as I truly am.

#i feel a lot better after writing this #thank you if you read this i just needed the space to pour this incoherent mess of my mind

4 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #422

“i will not become a figure of my mistakes / i will not become the mask that is not my face”

Have you ever been told you were a good writer? I've been told that's one of my "gifts." What do you put on your baked potatoes? Butter, American cheese, and bacon bits. Gooood shit. What are you listening to? I'm re-watching Gab Smolders play Parasite Eve. Love that game to bits, and I really enjoy how she has a legitimate appreciation for it despite its age. It's so great watching her fall in love with a game she knew nothing about. Did you ever have braces? Yes. Are you afraid of flying? I acknowledge the risks of it, but I don't really actively fear it. Are you short? No; I'm your average height for an American woman of my age. Have you ever used a fire extinguisher? No. Would you want your future children to date someone like you as a teenager? I was a fine teenager, so sure. Are you unhappy at the moment? That's quite the understatement. When’s the last time you got in trouble with your parents? *shrug* How many children do you want? None. It's funny though, I had a dream last night that I gave birth to a daughter I of course named Alessandra. Have you ever watched Keeping Up With The Kardashians? No. Do you have any career ideas in mind? I have no desire to talk about this right now. Do you have any gay friends? Yeah. Are you gay yourself? I'm bi. Are you doing anything this weekend? Of course I'm not. But that's a surprise to nobody. How many brothers do you have? One. Do you like Mexican food? Only very few things. What’s your best friend’s pet’s name(s)? Oh man. Some are family pets more than hers, but regardless, there's Buster, Beasley, Winter, Martha, Crowley, Little Dot, Jane Marie, Doris, Raisha, and a bunch of other fish. Did you go to work today? I don’t have a job. .-. How old are you? How old do you act? 25. I think mentally I'm capable of acting older, but as far as "being an adult" goes, taking care of mature responsibilities, I'm a child. What size shoe do you wear? I... haven't worn anything but flipflops in so long that I barely know. I want to say an 8? 7 1/2 depending on the shoe? Are there any spiders in your room right now? I dunno. What was your favorite class during your sophomore year of high school? Art, for sure. Who’s your favorite Disney character? Probably Dory. Are there any framed pictures of you in your house? With my sisters, yes. Do you wear bandanas in your hair? No. Have you ever been on a blind date? No, not interested. Do you need to shave? My legs look like a gorilla's. My armpits, slightly. I shave them every time I shower, so I'll shave them soon. Are you wearing makeup right now? No. I never do nowadays. Do you know anyone named Laura? Not off the top of my head. Do you have any exercise equipment in your home? A few things. How many living grandparents do you still have? None. What are your plans for the rest of the day? Nothing, really. I hope I read today, though. I haven't the past couple days and I refuse to totally lose my habit of it again. How many times have you been sick this year? None. What colour is your toothbrush? White. Do you have a favourite author? No. How long do you usually take in the shower? Barely even 10 minutes. I do nooot understand how some people take so long. Clean yourself, get out. Like I get it if you're shaving or doing "extra" stuff besides washing your hair and body, but generally, how???? Have you ever worked in an office? No, but as I prepare to job search again, that's what I'm aiming for, I guess. It sounds like something I (including my legs, given I'd be sitting) could possibly handle. But yeah, you need experience in absolutely everything nowadays to get any job, it seems. Have you ever stayed in a hotel without your parents or older relatives? Yes. Have you ever kissed anyone under the mistletoe? I actually don't think I have. What’s your go-to activity when you’re bored? Watch YouTube. Who was the last person you texted? The lady who works in my psychiatrist's office to verify my next appointment date. Do you see yourself married in the next five years? Probably not, really. How long does it take you to get ready to go out? Barely over five minutes, or less, depending on what I have to do. Do you own any clothes you wouldn’t wear in front of your mother? No. Have you changed much this year? I haven't changed at all. And that's not a good thing. Is there a girl that you truly hate? A corner of my mind says yes. Even though I have no right to. Do you have any candles in your room? No, but I do have a wax warmer. Have you ever had to dial 911 before? A couple times for Mom. What’s something in your past that you’ll always remember? I'm almost certain even dementia couldn't take away my memory of the breakup. Did you have a good birthday this year? Yeah, it was good. How many people have told you they were in love with you? Two. Do you find smoking unattractive? Yes. How slowly or quickly would you say you eat? I eat way too fast, but I literally can't figure out how to change it. I try to slow down, but it just... doesn't stick. It's so engrained in me as a habit. Do you remember how you felt on 9/11? I was too young to remember this. What do you think of people who always wear make-up? You go for it, you look great. What’s a smell that absolutely makes you gag? Severely decaying roadkill is very high on the list. Is there a smell that gives you headaches? Gasoline. What about one that reminds you of the past? Play-Doh, for one. Childhood things like that. Also like those really fruity lip glosses, etc. What’s your least favorite thing about summer? The fucking heat and humidity. What’s your least favorite thing about the holiday season? The knowledge I don't have the money to buy like anyone presents. Especially my niece and nephew. Mom helps me buy something for them, but still... I feel like such a bad aunt that I can't do it myself. Other than yourself, who knows you the best? Whoever reads these, probably, ha ha. Do you have any embarrassing qualities and, if so, what are they? I'm just awkward in general. What’s one complaint that you have about school? Common Core. It's awful. What do you do while you’re on campus but not in class? I would just go to the library and do stuff on my laptop. Do you know anyone who has Autism/Asperger’s syndrome? Yes. It's questionable that I myself may have high-functioning autism. Has anyone of the same sex ever hit on you? Yeah. Are you open to a same-sex relationship and why or why not? Yes, because I'm bisexual. Have you ever dressed like or worn clothing belonging to the opposite sex? I would wear Jason's pj pants sometimes. Have you ever found yourself to be ugly? I've always believed I'm ugly. Have you read the Twilight series and do you like it or dislike it? I never read the series or watched the movies. Have you been on any type of online messengers today? I've used Discord to message Sara. What is your state’s minimum wage? $7.25 an hour. Disgusting. Do you own a tablet of any kind? No. If you eat eggs, how do you eat them? I only enjoy scrambled eggs or omelettes. When you’re upset, do you vent to people or do you keep to yourself? Nowadays, I tend to keep it to myself or vent through surveys. Have you ever watched a meteor shower? No, but I would love to. Do you like Slim Jims? OH MY GOD YESSSSSSSSSS. I want one now. What’s your opinion on the color turquoise? I think it's very pretty. Have you ever been in a castle? Only the Disney World one. When you were little, did you ever play with Play-Doh? Of course! I loved doing that. Would you rather write a mystery or love story? Hm... probably a love story. Are you afraid of getting shots? Kind of. I just hate the feeling of the medicine being injected, and long needles puncturing skin makes me want to squirm a bit. Needles in general though, I'm not afraid of. Would you ever run away and get married with no notifications to your family? Uh, no. I'm close with my immediate family and would want them to know. Have you ever wanted to vlog? Noooo. My life is so very boring, not to mention I would feel WAY too awkward. Who was the last person who unexpectedly texted you? No one unexpectedly texts me. Have you ever voluntarily read the Bible? Some of it. Have you ever thought that your life was so bad you wanted to give up? Many times. Do thunder & storms scare you? Actually, since I started having recurring tornado nightmares, I started to sort of fear them again. What are two foods you think only taste good with whipped cream? I hate whipped cream. If you eat it, what is your favorite way to eat beef? Cheeseburgers. Are you insecure about your height? What made you think this way? No. Did your last significant other have a huge temper? No. Would you ever think about doing porn? NOOOOOOOOO, even if I was in good shape. Would you ever cheat on someone if they cheated on you? No. That's not going to fix anything. Do you like getting jewelry or do you not wear any? I don't mind it, but I don't really wear it. When you were in high school did you ever have bomb threats? Once or twice. He was a... troubled kid. Did/Do you get school cancellations because of snow? Oh yes. My area flips shit if there's even a risk of like an inch of snow. Who knows ALL of your secrets? Nobody. Do you eat dinner with your family every night? No. Have you ever thought about what it would be like to have a baby right now? No, not really. That would be fucking awful. There's no way I'd be able to raise it. Have you used Limewire before? Back in the day. Are you/Were you in a band? If so, what was your band name? No. Have you ever tried cocaine or heroin? No thanks. Do you own any shirts with a peace symbol on it? No. I'd wear one, though. Have you ever dyed your hair light auburn? No. Ever had ice cream dots? Dippin' Dots? Yes. Do you have your national flag hanging up anywhere outside your house? No. Would you ever go to Japan? I'd like to. Have you ever been in a choir? When I was a kid in Catholic school, yes. What did you eat for breakfast today? Honey Nut Cheerios. When is the next time you’ll be up on stage? Preferably never.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''disguise'' by motionless in white

2 notes · View notes

saramoonlightglitter · 3 years

Text

Strawberry Sponge Cake With Cherry on Top

Background: Janet is getting old. She has dementia and feels completely lost at times. In this snippet, we see her baking a cake for her kids. She can’t remember much but will that stop her from baking the perfectly moist sponge cake with sweet cherries on top?

Janet stole a few glances at the clock before rechecking the temperature of her oven. She was hyperventilating over the cake that was still in the process of baking. What if it wasn’t moist enough? What if the top layer turned out to be a little too crunchy? No, she wouldn’t think of the million things that could go wrong! She was an exceptional baker, and this strawberry sponge cake would be another of her mouth-watering creations! Little Harry used to gorge on cakes and make such a mess! Oh, he’ll love the overly-sweetened cherry on top, she thought. But should she serve him in that big bowl? Now, what cartoon was it that was painted on the red bowl? Harry is so addicted to those cartoons, she recalled fondly, always glued to the television.

Anyway, it didn’t matter. Marlyn wouldn’t let him near the TV. She has always got to watch the same sitcom, which never seems to end. No, Janet shook her head. I need to think about Harry and his bowl. He will throw a hissy fit if he doesn’t see that bowl. What else can you expect from a little boy? But he wasn’t so little now, was he? The last time he came… what did he say he was doing? Janet simply couldn’t remember. Children grow up so fast! Only the other day, she saw Marlyn get dressed for prom. Who did she say she was going with? Charlie, it had to be Charlie.

Eager to brush off the thoughts, she focused on the cake with renewed enthusiasm. It was better to attend to the delicious dessert than to remind herself of the fading memories. She would lie awake in bed all night, desperately trying to remember. But her mind always refused to cooperate. Oh, it wasn’t Charlie. How silly of me. Lovely Marlyn would never go out with him. Daniel! It was Daniel, the athletic mechanic. The girls in town couldn’t wait for their turn with him. But he’d always had eyes for my Marlyn; Janet smiled.

The cake was almost at its prime. Janet was still tentative about taking it out of the oven. The downside of being a perfectionist was this feeling of inadequacy. Randy used to lose his temper every time Janet took too long to prepare his meals. Oh, poor Randy. She hadn’t been to his resting place in God knows how long. It was the accident, wasn’t it? He’d been so awfully sick. Although she didn’t like to admit it to her kids, she missed her husband. She would imagine him standing beside her, giving her an earful. But Janet couldn’t quite recall his face. He wore those thick-rimmed glasses! No wonder she never looked into his eyes.

Ding! Was it the doorbell? Randy wasn’t due until seven. Randy? Jesus! What was she thinking! Frustratedly limping towards the door, Janet swore at herself. Why was her brain always this jumbled-up collection of memories? She was expecting to see her kids, not her long-dead husband. But there was no one at the door. The cake! She sighed and traced her way back to the kitchen. Ding! The oven made the familiar noise one more time. Taking out the cake, Janet grinned. It was just the way she wanted.

What would go well with the cake? She rummaged through her kitchen cabinets and refrigerator, hoping to find the best accompaniment. No, nothing there. Well, the children would have to settle for the cake alone. They would probably be full-up, anyway. They must’ve already had a ton of snacks at the movies. Janet wondered how awkward little Harry must feel in the company of his sister and her friends. But Charlie could always make the boy laugh. Or, Daniel, was it?

Suddenly, Janet remembered she had forgotten to read her Bible that day. Deciding that she was too tired, she said a quick prayer and promised to read it at night. Connie was so particular about Bible study. Would Connie come by later that evening? Janet would be bored after the kids left. Connie was good company even though she insisted on eating healthy and playing cards. Janet had never been one to eat salad or play bridge. Never mind, she was a good friend.

Moving with difficulty, Janet set the table. The cake was at the center. It was beautiful! I’ve got to find the bowl and a packet of chips; Janet muttered. Little Harry never liked sharing with his sister. But then again, he wasn’t perhaps so little anymore. What was it that Harry did? He was a mechanic, wasn’t he? Silly me; she reproached. Daniel was the mechanic. Harry said he would be reading some paper. Good thing the boy had a reading habit. It’d do him good. Not able to strain her legs any longer, Janet sat down with a thud. She fixed her eyes on the cake again. It was missing something. The cherries! She had planned to decorate it with a bunch of cherries. Little… Harry loved cherries.

I know I have some in the kitchen, she convinced herself and rose to her feet. Why did her feet hurt so much? She must remember to ask Randy for the medicine. He was good with medical matters. But where was Randy? She hadn’t seen him in quite a while. Find the cherries, girl! She scolded herself and started to walk in the direction of the kitchen. Only she was headed the wrong way.

“Mom!” someone shouted from behind, making Janet jump in her skin.

“Marlyn? Where’s Daniel? He likes strawberry shortcakes, rights? I forgot the cherries, but it’s still yummy,” Janet said excitedly.

“What’re you talking about? Who’s Daniel?” Marlyn sighed. She seemed exasperated. “Rob couldn’t make it. Remember Rob? My husband? Anyway, Harry’s here. He’s parking up.”

“Parking up? Don’t tell me you let the boy drive!” Janet frowned. “It’s a pity I couldn’t find his cartoon bowl. I’ll get him some chips.”

“I can’t right now, Mom,” Marlyn said. She was at the point of tears. “We’re here to take you to the nursing home. I know you’ve forgotten the plan. But do me a favor and be quiet, will you?”

“Don’t worry about my feet,” Janet laughed. “Randy will take care of it. I don’t need to go anywhere to get it cured.”

Janet was about to respond when Harry stormed in. He ranted about some problem with the car and prompted Marlyn to wrap up matters. They needed to leave immediately.

“But the cake?” Janet asked, looking at her kids pleadingly.

“You can’t bake now, Mom,” Harry said. His tone suggested he was talking to someone who wouldn’t understand simple instructions. “I don’t want to sit here and eat a salty cake, pretending it’s amazing.”

“That was just the one time, Harry,” Janet insisted. “This one’s perfect. You’ll love it!”

“We’ve got no time for it,” Marlyn agreed with her brother.

They packed up Janet’s belongings. Not that she would require much at the nursing home. Ten minutes later, they were on their way. The cake still sat proudly on the table. There was nothing wrong with it. It had the right amount of cake mix, the right amount of sugar, and an extra bit of love. Even with her mind all over the place, Janet had baked a perfect cake. Sitting uncomfortably in the car, she still regretted not having those cherries. Maybe if she’d found those, Harry would have feasted on her delectable dessert.

#writing #me writing #short fiction #story prompt #short story #psychology #dementia #creative writing #blog

1 note · View note

akp-1327 · 4 years

Text

dear diary // chapter six

Hey! Here’s the next chapter! Also, before you delve into it, I just wanted to inform you about how gloomy this chapter is. It’s a major turning point for the series, though! I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading. ❤️

As always, find the series masterlist here to catch up! :)

Pairings: Ajay Bhandari x f!MC (Charlotte Parker), Skye Crandall x f!OC (Leila Maciel)

Word Count: 4.4k

(*) Warnings: mentions of bankruptcy and dementia.

(Buckle up for an emotional roller coaster, everyone...)

“Hi, Ajay.”

Charlotte looked worse than she had this morning when she was dealing with her hangover. Now, as she stood helplessly in front of me, she looked like she was about to cry.

“Charlotte, are you alright?” I asked, knowing what her answer would be right off the bat. With a purse of her lips, she looked down at the floor and slowly shook her head. She finally met my eyes and let her own fill with tears, her walls slowly crashing down.

“No, not really.”

I instantly waved her in and closed the door. Rory was out with a few friends that had just arrived on campus, so I probably wasn’t going to see him until morning. That was okay; Charlotte didn’t look like she was ready to leave anytime soon when she was perched on my bed, wiping desperately at her tears.

“What happened?” I questioned softly, coming to sit beside her.

I wasn’t usually the crying-on-the-shoulder type, so I honestly felt out of place in this situation. Although, despite my inexperience, she answered.

“When I got back after our coffee trip, Leila and I got into a huge argument about what happened last night.” Charlotte sniffled, her voice breaking as more tears rolled down her cheeks. Without knowing what to say, I wrapped a hesitant arm around her shoulders to try and console her. I felt her tense up underneath my arm, leading me to assume I went too far.

I was about to pull away before she huddled closer to me, leaning her head on my shoulder. Of course, I tried my best to ignore how my heart started to thunder in my chest at the action, but that’s unimportant right now.

After a few beats of silence, I found my voice again. I still didn’t know whether or not I’d been doing this whole ‘consolation’ thing properly, but talking seemed to alleviate her emotions, even if it was temporary.

“Did she apologize for what happened?”

Charlotte shook her head, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “No. I guess she was angry at me, too.”

“Why?” My eyes widened and my embrace around her tightened by just a fraction. It was such a small movement but I could tell it was something she noticed by the way she wrapped her arms around me, clinging to me as if I’d disappear.

“She thinks that I’m dependent on her protection,” Charlotte said, her voice still unsteady, “and...and I just...” She broke down into sobs, her shoulders heaving and her arms tightening around my torso. Yet again, I had no idea what to do, so I frowned,

Just this morning she’d been upbeat. She was fatigued, sure, but she was herself nonetheless. Now, she was the complete opposite. It...well...it hurt my heart.

(Dammit.).

I failed to muster a response before she started to speak again.

“I didn’t tell you about my parents’ diner, did I? About what happened?”

I started shaking my head when she pulled back to compose herself. It was barely a second before she crossed her arms tightly around herself. She was silent in deep thought for a minute, her eyes trained on Rory’s unmade bed across the room.

“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.” I muttered softly, though she sniffled and looked back up at me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much hurt, so much pain, so much despair, in my life aside from her eyes in that moment. The blue irises that gazed into mine were overflowing with such a depressing sadness that I was rendered speechless.

Of course, she had beautiful eyes. She had a beautiful smile, too. Everything about her was just beautiful, even when she was at her lowest point like this.

“I do want to,” Charlotte breathed, nodding to herself in a way that seemed forced, almost as if she’d reminded herself that she wanted to, “you’re the best person I can talk to.”

Things with Leila, her best friend, must be seriously messed up. It’s been about two weeks since we met and she’s already crying on my shoulder.

I nodded wordlessly in understanding (because I still couldn’t find the right words to say) and let her continue.

“The day I got here, I called my mom. She told me how their diner had gone bankrupt,” Charlotte said, her voice now clear and consistent, “then, to top it all off, the building got condemned. It’s never really been in the best condition, but it’s always been like that. We’ve never had the best finances, either, so we couldn’t get anything permanently fixed.”

She buried her head in her hands. “I don’t know what to do, or what to think. I basically grew up there, y’know? It hurts to hear, but it hurts even more to know that I’m not at home with my family. And then everything with Leila and the stress of classes starting soon...”

“Oh my god,” I whispered, surprising her (and myself; I mean, I finally found my vocal chords!), “that sounds like a living hell.”

Charlotte cracked a wry laugh, immediately easing the growing knot in the pits of my heart. Even if it didn’t sound like her usual chortle, I deemed that it was better than her sobbing into my shoulder.

“Oh, I can assure you that it is.”

“What a poor, poor reassurance,” I sighed, “can I give you some advice?”

I watched her nod solemnly before I started.

“For starters, you’re strong. I don’t think you’re dependent on Leila’s protection because you wouldn’t be here if you were,” I said, watching her reaction carefully. It had been my job as a director to read people’s character and emotion and give them advice on how to improve; these circumstances hadn’t been much different...besides the fact of not literally directing her around.

“Second. You need to know that it’s okay to feel. It’s okay to share your emotions and opinions. You don’t need to bottle everything up all the time, especially when something big like this is bothering you.” I heard (and felt) my voice soften. I don’t exactly know why - maybe it was because of how calm the moment felt or because I didn’t want to worry her - but I did know that she was listening carefully because of her newly-formed expression of confusion.

“How did you know I was holding everything in?” Charlotte questioned. I simply smiled.

“I’m a director, remember? I know lots of things.” I teased, watching an unconvinced smile spread across her features. So I sighed and told her the truth. “I have lots of experiences with keeping my emotions hidden from the world. Plus, from what I’ve heard, you’re the instituted older sibling; I just happen to know all about that.”

“Oh.” She breathed. It sounded vulnerable. “That’s very observant of you, mister director.”

(Why are my cheeks starting to heat up? Whatever. Um. Advice. Respond to her. Um.)

“Not observant,” I corrected, giving her a tender and understanding smile whilst ignoring my growing sheepishness, “experienced.”

And then I watched as the silent wish I had in my mind came true; she smiled. It was such a brilliant thing; I couldn’t move, think, breathe, or function like a normal human being for a whirlwind of a second. It was something alleviating, breathtaking, and mesmerizing all at once.

“Ah, right. You have lots of...experience.” Charlotte laughed, giving me a thankful look before rubbing at her eyes. I just noticed how exhausted she looked and instantly felt guilty for keeping her awake. It was almost half past ten and I knew she was a night owl, but her eyes were growing bleary and she let out an occasional yawn.

“I do.” I hummed, gingerly reaching for her hand. I don’t really understand why I did; it just seemed like the right thing to do in the moment. To let her know I was here for her. “And if you need to talk about anything else like this, I’m here. Okay?”

Her cheeks burned bright pink when I grazed my thumb over the back of her hand. I’ve noticed that her hands are always impossibly soft and comfortingly warm.

“Okay.” Charlotte nodded. A moment of silence passed, and then another, and then a whole two minutes passed without any conversation; it wasn’t awkward or weird or anything, but it had definitely been different. The air between us seemed to thicken. Her blue eyes looked up to meet mine again and I immediately knew why the moment had felt so different. Emotions like vulnerability and relief swirled around her irises.

She trusted me.

We continued to gaze at each other for what felt like hours, mindlessly but also knowingly, before she cleared her throat and pulled away. I took my hand back and the moment ended.

I immediately missed the warmth of her hand in mine.

“Thank you, Ajay. Seriously.” Charlotte breathed, standing up. “I owe you one.”

I smiled and shook my head. “I disagree. I was just doing what nice friends do.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes but still grinned. “Nice friends accept an offering from another friend.” she winked, pulling me into a hug so quick I barely had time to react. She was halfway out the door before I processed her quick embrace. “I’ll get you coffee or something sometime and I can promise that you’ll never see it coming. Goodnight.”

Before I could retort, she was gone with a flourish. She closed the door softly, leaving me with my thoughts.

August 23rd, 2020

Dear Diary...

Wow. Three entries within the span of a month? Wow, I’m genuinely shocked. Anyway. I have something to say, and I think it might be urgent...in a sense.

Charlotte. Remember her? Yeah. I think something’s happening with our...friendship. And in a really good way. Over the past couple days, she’s been looking at me differently. Talking to me differently. Smiling at me more. She even pokes my arm...which has never happened before? It’s far from usual, but at the same time...I’m getting used to it.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that I shouldn’t be letting myself do this. I shouldn’t be letting myself grow closer to her. With every passing day, I keep allowing myself to spend time with her in the way that will eventually kill me. I know what’s going to happen: she’ll audition for the show, get a lead part, and forget about me. I’ll be heartbroken...again.

I don’t know what these feelings mean. Wait. Maybe I do, actually; I just don’t want to admit the truth to myself because the truth scares me. A lot.

So. That’s really it. Unless you want to hear about my “home life” problem? Well then, do I have news for you. I haven’t visited Amma, Mo, or Jim in almost a year and have been purposefully putting it off out of the fear that they won’t accept me as their family. (This is basically stemming off the fact of me “spending lots of time” with my dad over summer...)

Anyway. That’s about it. I’m seriously considering the thought of not directing the show this year so I can actually breathe with the whole Charlotte situation, but I don’t think Olson would like that. He always says that I’m the “most qualified” and “better seasoned” student he has.

Why must everything in my life be so confusing?

Ajay

The air had slowly grown colder over the next week, signaling flannel season. Pumpkin spice season. Spooky season, as Rory called it. It was finally September; the start of autumn and the school year.

Erin asked me to go shopping with her at a local craft store. She needed new autumn decorations and, by some sort of force, I just happened to be the only one free on the last Saturday before class officially started on Tuesday. So here we were; walking into a large corner store I’d never seen before with a small basket on Erin’s arm.

“Look at all of the leaf garlands...” Erin smiled, pointing at all the aisles. She eagerly looked around at all the decorations. I, in all honesty, could spend the entire day in this store. It was so tranquil.

...But don’t tell anyone that.

“Ajay! Look at this!” Erin held up a small pair of purple and orange striped witch legs with black boots. “It’d be right up Skye’s alley! We could hang it outside the door.”

Without further explanation, she tossed it into her basket and proceeded to the next aisle with Halloween decorations. She glanced at a few before continuing on. Erin isn’t a Halloween person; she doesn’t get scared easily, but she just doesn’t like how cheesy the holiday is.

“You seem to be doing better,” I said nonchalantly, showing her a miniature pumpkin that looked like a paper weight. She took the pumpkin but didn’t respond until she placed it in her basket.

“I am.” Erin said just as casually. It was quite...infuriating, to say the least.

We continued to walk around the store, the odd encounter almost forgotten until we got to the fake flower aisle. Erin took a faux orchid into her hands and looked at it wistfully, twirling the plastic stem between her fingers.

“These...are my grandma’s favorites.” She whispered, her voice faltering.

Oh, no.

“Erin?” I questioned, watching as she shook the emotion away and put the orchid back. It was faint, but I watched several emotions flash through her eyes. Pain, grief, longing.

She walked away from the orchids without looking back and instead picked up a yellow rose further down the aisle.

“I could cut the stems off of these and decorate a stick wreath with them. Maybe add a few orange cosmos and red daisies? Oh, and maybe--”

“That’d look nice,” I hummed, cutting her off. She took some artificial baby’s breath and added it to the mix, not meeting my eyes.

Clearly she was ignoring what had happened with the orchid.

I remember Erin talking about her grandma all the time - the amazing woman in her life that had been a philanthropist within her community. I don’t remember her name, though I do remember that Erin adored her just as much as she adored Erin. The latter would ramble on and on about all the people her grandmother inspired (herself included) and loved to talk about how her grandmother taught her about living her life to the fullest.

Then, unexpectedly two summers ago, Erin’s notorious grandmother forgot about her birthday. Then she forgot her wedding anniversary. Then, unbelievably, she forgot about her career that she used to talk so much about. She had no recollection of what she’d accomplished, though when someone reminded her and talked about it in vivid detail, her memory would kick back in and she’d act like nothing ever happened.

The memory lapses continued over the course of freshman year, but she still fought to remember the people closest to her. It stayed that way for a while, but you could tell that it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to recall certain things.

Then, right before winter break of sophomore year, she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.

Erin talked with me about it all throughout the entire course of break. How her grandma was put on all these medications and needed to be moved into a nursing home for daily care. How Erin was terrified that her grandma would forget about everything she ever loved, ever knew, ever experienced. She had every right to, as well; it was scary, especially for Erin. Her grandma was like her safe place, her shoulder to cry on. It could all be taken away.

Erin’s heart slowly broke as she watched her grandma’s strength slowly wither away. By the start of the summer, Erin’s grandma couldn’t even walk because she’d gotten so frail. The last time Erin and I talked about it, everything was as good as it could’ve been.

But by Erin’s mention of the orchid, I’m guessing it hadn’t been an easy summer for her or her family.

“Erin,” I said suddenly, catching her off-guard as she looked for a wooden wreath, “it happened, didn’t it?”

I absolutely hated and regretted the blunt delivery, but she seemed to understand. She looked down at her shoes and grimly nodded.

“The week before I arrived on campus, I took one last visit before school. I held her hand for a while and hoped, but she...didn’t remember me. No matter how many times I said my name or showed her pictures...” Erin breathed sadly, holding her palm up to look at. It shook the tiniest bit.

That’s why she’d been so...cold for the past couple weeks. Her grandma forgot about her. Not willingly, but, forgot about her nonetheless. This was what she was scared of most, and having it come true...

“I know this doesn’t help in the slightest, but I’m so sorry, Erin.” I whispered, placing my hand on her shoulder thoughtfully. She took a deep breath and shrugged.

“It’s not your fault, Ajay. It’s no one’s fault.” Erin whispered, failing to keep her voice even.

Erin shook her head again and sniffled before she took a small wooden wreath, gently placing it into her basket. She walked away after waving at me to follow her towards the register.

After the whole situation with Erin, I just needed to relax. I got back to the dorm and started to get all my school supplies organized. It was just the therapy I needed. Rory even joined in when he got back from who knows where and played random songs from musicals he loves. I can’t even name them all.

We talked about things, too. Serious things, like my tobacle with Charlotte. I didn’t go into much detail, but I could tell Rory picked up on a couple things. He knew me too well. Even throughout all of that, I didn’t mention Erin to him. I debated it, but then I remembered that it wasn’t something I should share. When she was ready, she’d say something. And, clearly, that wasn’t right now.

It was at least half past eleven when we decided to call it quits; or I decided, since Rory had been passed out on top of his blankets.

Before I settled in for bed, I sent a text to Charlotte.

I hadn’t heard from her all day. This wouldn’t have looked out of the ordinary to anyone else, but she usually sends these stupidly funny memes about theater throughout the day. I don’t even know where (or how, for that matter) she finds them.

Ajay: You okay?

It was nearly thirty seconds after I sent the message when she responded.

Charlotte: leila and i are still iffy but i’ve been alright. i’m pretty exhausted but overall okay...ish :)

Charlotte: how are you?

I really, really wanted to share how I was feeling. Not just about Erin’s struggles or my own, but about her. But, first of all, I was not going to be “that guy” to confess over text. Second of all, I didn’t even know how I would confess. I couldn’t turn the weird notions I had floating around in my mind into words.

Even if I could, I still doubt I’d tell her.

Ajay: Tired, as always. Also, would it kill you to capitalize your words?

I knew she’d have a witty response to this. She always had one to anything thrown her way. I quickly learned that it was one of her most quirky traits.

Charlotte: YES I WOULD, GRANDPA! I WOULD DIE OF UTTER SHOCK FROM PRESSING THE CAPS BUTTON ON THIS VERY SCREEN ALL THE TIME! YOU’RE GONNA ATTEND MY FUNERAL AND GIVE A SPEECH ABOUT HOW AMAZING OF A FRIEND I WAS BECAUSE YOU JUST KILLED ME.

Such a dork.

Charlotte: there. hope that resolved the problem. oh, and i hope you can afford my funeral, you murderer.

Such a cute dork, one could say.

Ajay: Not especially to all of that, but I guess I can let that one slide. But I better not see any lowercase nouns on your audition form once the show rolls around.

And that’s the reason that’d always hold me back. Whenever I thought I’d worked up enough courage to actually formulate some thought about these feelings I had for her, I’d remember that she was a theater kid, and I don’t allow myself to get involved with them. Not after what happened with Kelly.

Charlotte: you really think i’m that unprofessional? how rude.

Charlotte: plus...i don’t even know if i’m doing the show yet. i feel like it might burn me out. i’m a workaholic when it comes to school.

A familiar feeling of hope lightened the dead weight of stress on my shoulders. I may actually have a chance; well, a chance without making myself relive bad memories.

Ajay: I guess that makes sense. If you’re interested, auditions are on the 14th.

Charlotte: would you have a bias towards me because i’m your friend? 😉

Of course she’d ask that. Why wouldn’t she? This was Charlotte; she was the most curious person I’d ever met.

Ajay: Absolutely...not.

Charlotte: gosh diggity darn it. not even for me? i thought we were...like...besties or something. you hurt my fragile feelings. 🤧😭

God, why is she so cute?

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing out loud and had to hold a hand to my mouth to contain it before I woke Rory up. The last thing I wanted was his snarky question about why I’d been laughing while he was still half asleep.

Ajay: Apologies, but it’s against the rules.

Ajay: Also, how would we be best friends when we’ve known each other for a little over a month? I don’t even know your favorite color or movie or animal. Oh, and even your birthday? This is all stuff that best friends know about each other.

Charlotte: green 💚 she’s the man ⚽️ penguins 🐧 December 28th, 2001 🎉

Charlotte: you?

I was playing a dangerous game here; I didn’t know if I wanted to win (stay friends and hold in my feelings forever)...but I didn’t know if I wanted to lose (tell her how I felt...eventually; once I knew), either.

Well, I guess you only live once, right?

Ajay: Green, The Bicycle Thief, octopi, and August 2nd, 2000. Relatively basic.

Charlotte: OMG HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY!!! (ignore how it’s sept 4th please) 🎉🎉🎉 the big 20, right?

Ajay: Sadly, but shhh, I’m still 19 at heart. Don’t tell anyone.

Charlotte: my lips are sealed 🤐 and i have a question; it’s almost midnight. why’re you awake?

Stress? Was stress a good answer? I think it was. She didn’t have to know what I was stressed about. It was general but also just specific enough to pass as a viable excuse.

I don’t think it’d help if I confessed that some of it was because of her, either, so that was another good reason to just give a simple answer.

Ajay: Stress. Why’re you awake?

Charlotte: same reason. i also haven’t been sleeping well, if at all, since leila went to stay in skye and erin’s dorm.

Ajay: Wow, since your argument? That was more than a week ago. Erin hasn’t said anything and I haven’t heard from Skye in a few days.

Charlotte: leila has always been a bit dramatic when it comes to holding grudges. but, anyway, i should let you get some sleep. but before you go, do you wanna do something tomorrow? i think we both could use a break.

That sounded like an amazing idea. Just taking a breather from everything that’d been happening in my life. But...

Ajay: I was thinking of going to visit my family tomorrow.

Maybe this was just another one of my excuses to stop me from letting these feelings grow. I didn’t want to get my hopes up; there was still a possibility that she’d audition for the show.

Charlotte: oh, that’s okay! another time?

But, then again, I wasn’t exactly sure if I wanted to win or lose this game. And it’d be nice to have someone there with me.

Ajay: Would you want to do something tomorrow?

Charlotte: ...is this your way of asking me to go with you to visit your family?

Ajay: Maybe.

Yes.

Charlotte: well, as long as it’s alright with you, i’d love to tag along. if you wanted me there.

Ajay: It’s definitely alright. Is ten okay? It only takes like...half an hour to get there. Maybe we’ll stop and get coffee or something before we go.

Charlotte: cool beans! you know exactly how to persuade me. see you at ten :) please try to sleep well!

Ajay: Ditto.

Boom. Just like that. Simple as pie. I was going to visit family that I hadn’t seen in a year...with Charlotte.

Tomorrow.

Yeah, there’s no way in hell that I’m actually getting any sleep tonight.

Awesome, wow. Cue ‘The Reynolds Pamphlet’, because I felt like Hamilton at this very moment...an absolute idiot.

Still, it might be nice, right?

Might. It just might.

It will be nice...with her company.

Ajay: :)

Walking to Charlotte’s dorm the next morning felt completely different than the last time. I vividly remember the walk; it was quick and painless. I had little to no butterflies fluttering around my stomach. I wasn’t hyperventilating. I wasn’t trying to wipe the sweat from my hands as I marched down the stairs and up to her door.

My hands didn’t shake for a second that night, but now...I couldn’t find a way to keep them still.

That party brought us closer together than I ever thought imaginable. That party basically sparked this entire flame. It’s what made me realize that Charlotte could never be just a friend. She’d felt like something more for...for a while; sometime during the party, it just kind of became a thought.

Even that night when she was showing her raw emotion, her concern for her family, her frustrations with Leila...it opened my eyes to what I could tell her with such honesty. It made me humor the thought of becoming the type of person to share my deepest and darkest secrets with someone.

This someone, somehow, just weaseled her way into my life without any warning.

Everything fit into place and everything was put into perspective the longer I went over the “what if’s” and “what could be’s”. The weird notions in my heart were now scripted...and there wasn’t a way to take their roles away. There wasn’t a way to write them out or scribble over their lines with pen.

And...let me just say...this terrified the living hell out of me.

Putting myself and my already damaged heart out there and on the line again...didn’t seem worth it. It didn’t seem like something I could handle if it went wrong. But you know what seemed worth it? The slim chance that she saw me the same way, that she wanted to be something more.

Now, as I stood at her door, the ever increasing rate of my heart pounded in my ears. I hoped I could admit these thoughts to her today. Or do something that could give her a hint.

It’s crazy how something small, like a feeling that you had for a split second, can manifest into a overwhelmingly large tower of impending doom in such a short period of time. It felt like I had a small, irking suspicion that I liked her at the party, but...I knew for a fact that I liked her now. A lot more.

Dammit.

#high school story class act #ajay bhandari #erin ward #rory silva #skye crandall #mc: charlotte parker #oc: leila maciel #ajay x mc #skye x oc #choices stories you play #chapter six 🥳#warnings: mentions of bankruptcy and dementia

10 notes · View notes

maknaesdancersrappers · 4 years

Text

july 21

hello. july 21 is a special day for me and you dont have to read this because its just me venting out my thoughts and emotions as long as i can without word/character limits on any platform.

july 21 is my maternal grandmother’s birthday. when i was born, my mom went abroad often and my dad had the regular 9 to 5 job plus extra hours for commute. so growing up with my sisters who are 5 and 7 years older, our grandparents and aunts took care of us.

im also more fond of my maternal grandmother since my paternal grandmother lived far away and we rarely ever get to see her (usually only during summers and once she stayed with us for awhile) until she passed away from Alzheimer's.

during the long hiatus i took early this year (late december to mid-march?), a lot has happened in my life. my health was put at risk because of the ash fall brought by the volcano eruption (january 12); i had allergies for weeks - i couldnt breathe properly, let alone sleep because of it. it was about to be the second year after graduating college and i have yet to get a job; the pressure from my family - and myself - was so unbearable that i caught myself slipping back to my very, very, very dark thoughts. and the worst thing that happened in those three months: my grandmother passed away. in filipino, grandmother is lola (loh-lah) and i’d like to use that for the rest of this post.

if you ask anyone in their neighborhood, any of our family friends, and relatives, everyone will tell you that her death was sudden. because everyone knows her as the sometimes-funny-sometimes-cranky old lady that owns the convenience store at the corner of the street. she was 96. she was 96 but she refused to get a wheelchair or use a walking stick even though her knees started to hurt after a few steps. she was 96 but didn’t need glasses to read most of the time. she was 96 but didn’t have any maintenance medication. ever since she reached her 90′s, she had gone to the town clinic at least twice because she fell over (from loss of balance) and busted her head. yet she would walk the next day like she doesnt have stitches on her scalp. she hated going to the doctor, she’d always claim that nothing hurts and the only thing she wanted the doctor to fix was her hearing (its as weak as how her eyesight is clear)

i wasnt the only one in the family that got severely affected by the ash fall. my lola also had trouble breathing because of it. she also went to the doctor for it and they only prescribed her antibiotics. please remember this info. this should be around early february

she got a little better but her voice was very hoarse from the phlegm. even before this, lola had little to no appetite and would only eat when someone else is eating (usually if it’s us, her granddaughters). and by little to no appetite, i mean her whole meal would be three spoonfuls of rice and one piece/chunk of whatever the main dish/ulam is. whenever we ask if she had eaten (even though we know she hadnt) she’d always claim that she already has (this eventually became a little joke in our family.) we took this sign as her dementia getting worse (although she was never really diagnosed with it, we had naturally assumed it because she would always repeatedly tell us stories that she insists happened even though some have been debunked and there were times she forgets our names if we havent visited in a while.)

after she gets better from the cough (idk the real diagnosis of it), her legs started to swell and because her routine had been reduced to being bedridden for most of the day, my aunts thought it was just poor circulation. it took two weeks before they brought her back to the town clinic and again, they just prescribed her with some medicine. everything after this is blurry to me until feb 21

my mom, being the eldest, made the decision to bring lola to the hospital. she’s, rightfully, unsatisfied with the town doctor’s diagnosis and prescriptions because lola is in so much pain and her legs were still swollen and its been weeks. i was with her in the emergency room while my mom and aunt did the paper work and the staff ran tests on lola. i’m contacting my sister who was in singapore and we’d video call to entertain lola since she was very adamant - and vocal - that she did not want to be admitted to the hospital bc she was “fine.” goSh she made so many hospital staff laugh because she would always announce whenever she had to fart. after like 2 hours, we move her into a ward and my mom tells me that i’ll have to stay overnight to watch over her. i was very apprehensive of this idea. i honestly did not want to. seeing her in pain was bad enough, but the fact we were in a room with other people and she was crying out loud made me really anxious but it was final. my mom, aunt, and uncle all went back home just to have dinner and they’ll come back since lola’s doctor would be coming by to give the results and for that hour they were gone? i lost it.

lola started talking/praying out loud, asking god why she was in so much pain, asking what she had done to deserve this; and i didn’t know what to do but hold her hand and kiss her head. i couldn’t even show her i was crying. when my mom got back, i told her i cant do it and she eventually convinced my other sister to join me, who cancelled her plans for the next day. that night, i did not and could not fall asleep. after a few hours, her doctor finally came by and dropped a bomb on us. he was kind enough to talk to my mom and aunt behind the curtains in the softest voice ever while i helped the nurse with lola, but i could hear him crystal clear.

cancer of the liver.

they even momentarily walked back to lola to touch her stomach and stepped back out. i almost thought i misheard, but my mom and aunt’s expressions were too grim that it basically confirmed it. later on, my mom finally told me and explained that the antibiotics she had been taking weeks ago were too strong for her because of her lifestyle and diet. there were tumors in her liver and surgery wouldn’t do anything. i dont remember what i did aside from sketching on the journal i brought, but until i got home at 10am the next day, i did not sleep a wink.

feb 22. when i woke up at 2PM, i was told that they had lola discharged from the hospital. there was nothing we could do but try to ease the pain to the best of our abilities and wait. starting that day, i went over to lola’s house to help out with feeding her, giving her medicine, and just trying to keep her happy by randomly smiling at her when i see her looking around or dancing to no music.

feb 24. these were the early weeks of covid - ph hadn’t had a case yet, i believe, but travel restrictions were being implemented. my sister in singapore was doing everything to make sure she could come home because we don’t know when, but we know lola was leaving soon. of all the things our mom told her not to do, she cried at the entrance of the embassy and by the grace of god, someone took pity and listened to her (bc she was denied entry since she had a small cough) and she was able book a flight at midnight and be home in 4 hours. that afternoon, when i arrived at lola’s house, that was the very first time i stood at the doorway to greet her like i usually did and she didn’t smile. not even the corners of her lips moved. she was in that much pain that she couldn’t even greet me back like she always did, which was to smile and nod her head. that night, we all decided to sleepover there (with the exception of my dad since he had to feed our dogs at home). i take my usual seat in the living room and i notice a white dress that i remember (from photos) being lola’s 50th anniversary wedding gown and without being told, i know it was what she was going to wear for the very last time.

feb 25. being notoriously a late sleeper, i was about to go to sleep at 2AM when i hear lola groaning and whining out loud. when i checked her, her stubborn lil ass was trying to get out of bed alone!!! so i obviously panic and try to wake up anyone by exclaiming that lola had to go to the bathroom - she’s been wearing adult diapers for weeks now but refuses to go in them and is adamant about bringing her to the bathroom so she could relieve herself - so me, and the same aunt and uncle from the hospital, assisted her into this modified chair so she could pee and the only thing i could do was hold her hand, like always. after that, my uncle said he’d watch over her and lie down beside her on the bed so in case she needs to go again, he can take care of it himself. after falling asleep, i heard a few hours later that my sister from SG arrived. when i woke up later on, my sisters and i presented ourselves to lola bc its been so long since she last saw us complete, and this time she was able to give us a small nod of acknowledgement. i realized that none of my uncles and aunts went to work that day, thinking it was just so we could be complete since my sister was home. but then i overhear them making plans to have a priest come over for the sacrament of anointing of the sick - which based on my last and only experience (my grandfather/lolo), this must be the day. during the session, a few of my aunts and an uncle cried. my sisters cried, too, but i forced myself not to. when the priest left, i don’t know how long, but suddenly, she was gone. i didn’t know how to react. this was the second time i’ve seen someone pass away before my very eyes. everyone was crying out for forgiveness, kissing lola’s head, but i couldn’t move one bit. i was finally crying, but i couldn’t move at all.

3 days. from learning about the real problem with lola, it only took 3 days for it to take her away from us. not even a week, or a month. the only bright side to this was that she’s finally relieved of all the pain that’s been causing her suffering. 3 days of knowing her time was very, very short, but it was still a shock when she finally left.

for the longest time, lola’s goal was to reach the age of 100 because apparently our government will reward her with 100,000 pesos (like 2k usd) for doing so. she wanted to reach 100 because she wanted to leave us with some inheritance haha. and everyone believed she could do it. no one doubted her. until this happened. maybe its just me, but i feel foolish... completely stupid and ignorant for knowing deep down in my heart that she would reach 100 that losing her 3 years prior her goal hurt me more than ever.

it’s been 5 months but remembering her death still makes me cry. i have dreams (and you all know im a lucid dreamer) where she’s still alive and we’re talking about how she beat cancer at 96 in just a few months, but then i’ll remember that she didn’t and the dream in front of me just shatters and i’ll wake up empty and crying. i have never felt so much regret after she passed bc all she wanted was to see me graduate and it was up to me to show her that i got my first job and give her a portion of my first salary, but i couldn’t even do that. i waited too long and now its too late. her ideal type for me was a rich atenean boy who could drive 😂 and i still couldn’t give her that bc im so anti-men. there was a time i was so scared to go back to lola’s house bc she called me out during dinner - “baket ka malungkot/why are you sad?” - when all i was doing was browsing through my phone, scarily enough going through another “episode”, and the last person i’d ever want to know about my possible depression was her. of all my suicidal episodes, i’ve always resolved them by thinking of her - that i will continue living because i wanted to see her smile. because i wanted to see her happy.

i miss her so much. i wish i had been a better granddaughter to her. the small things i’ve done for her were never enough. in the past 5 months, i’ve only dreamt about her twice (actually being with her) and both times made the day so hard to function. i havent moved on and i dont know if im the only one. i dont know if i’ll ever move on. she would have been 97 today. whenever she forgets my name, i’ll tell her i have the same birthday as her and she’ll remember me. she’ll say “ahhh rosean! july 10!”

if someone read through this, im sorry you had to go through that mess. but thank you for hearing me out. no, i’ll thank you the way my lola would thank people, verbatim:

thank you very much from the bottom of my heart.

13 notes · View notes

ego-sum-id-quod-cantum-ludere · 4 years

Text

WHAT IT'S LIKE TO LIVE IN AN OLD PEOPLE'S APARTMENT BUILDING

Holy shit, I haven't even been living in here for two months, and I'm going to be living here for at least another five. All I want to do here is make myself bedridden because that's the only thing that can go okay.

Before I get into this, I would like to say this for context: My dad decided that the pandemic was the best time to sell the house that I grew up in, and so he did. He wanted my two siblings and me to live with him in this apartment building meant for the elderly, but four people can't fit in an apartment for two. So we tried getting a double for my sister and me, but there weren't any available. The only available space was the common room that was being unused because of the pandemic. So that's where we're living.

THOUGH ADVICE IS HELPFUL, THIS POST IS MOSTLY FOR VENTING!

PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DON'T TELL US TO GET A JOB OR GET A DIFFERENT APARTMENT OR ASK WHERE MOM IS BECAUSE YOU DON'T KNOW OUR SITUATION, AND THIS IS ONLY A SMALL PORTION OF THE PROBLEM WE'VE BEEN PUT IN!

Now that that's out of the way, these are the problems that have occurred thus far:

1. Old people trying to break in.

I swear to God, the next time a Boomer with dementia tries to break in the room, I'm going to flip my shit.

Just today, there was an old lady who tried to break in THREE times. She got in successfully once because we had to leave the door unlocked for the workers to get in and try to fix the problems we were having with the pipe. The first thing she did was TAKE OFF HER MASK! The second thing she did was ask if there were other people in here, and my sister and I said, "No, we live here now." And then, she nearly brought herself to tears over her story of how she likes the piano and her father was a professional pianist, and that she misses the people. And we had to say, "Sorry, but we live here now" and send her on her way. Because we live here now. So then she leaves and we lock the door.

If we had left the piano open, or if she noticed the keyboard behind me, she NEVER would have left!

NOT EVEN FIVE MINUTES LATER, she returns to our door and tries to unlock the door with her keys!

We've told the owner multiple times about this since people try to break in almost every day, but the problem is that no matter how many times he tells all the old people that we live here, there will always be at least one person that forgets and tries to break in, and there's nothing we can do about it.

Also, as I was writing this post, someone else tried to break in (or maybe it was the same person trying to break in) YET AGAIN!

And then after my siblings and I had dinner, someone tried the handle on the doorknob FOUR SEPARATE TIMES! With a total of NINE TIMES that this has happened in one day, it has been a new personal record. Usually, it has only been once or twice a day.

2. AC problems

Bugs can easily get in the building through the vents when the AC is turned off. One time, a wasp got in here.

The filters only get replaced once a year. As far as I know from previously living in a home with an HVAC system, the filters are supposed to be replaced every 1 to 3 months.

You can't put things up against or near the vents, otherwise problems will occur.

The AC has leaked before. Thankfully, there were little to no damages, but now I'm afraid to leave it on for long periods of time.

3. THE MAIN PIPE OF THE BUILDING IS EXTREMELY CLOGGED, and it just so happens that the young folks here are the ones to notice something going on.

When we first moved in, we noticed a puddle of dirty water coming up from the bathtub drain, and we didn’t know where it was coming from or why it was happening. So we called someone in to examine it, and all he said was that they knew of this problem but didn’t want to do anything to fix it. So we had to accept that this was a problem that couldn’t be fixed (or that the owner didn’t want to fix it).

From then on, we assumed that the water came from one of our neighbors. We tried ways to bypass this issue while we were taking a shower, such as leaving the drain closed, and letting the water from the shower fill up the tub a bit before opening the drain. However, there was still dirty water coming up at times, and we don’t know why.

LAST NIGHT, however, we heard a strange bubble coming from the kitchen sink, and it turned out that the dirty water that would usually come up in the bathtub WAS FILLING UP THE SINK! So we had to call someone about this, and they came in this morning to check it out. They tried using a plunger in the sink, but more water kept coming up the garbage disposal. That’s when they realized that THE WHOLE PLUMBING SYSTEM IN THE BUILDING WAS CLOGGED! THE MAIN PIPE WAS CLOGGED! So now they have to figure out how to unclog the main pipe. That will be an update for a later time.

Update: apparently, this exact same problem happened a few years ago! This clearly shows how fucked-up the plumbing system is in this building - that the MAIN pipe of the building gets clogged EVERY FEW YEARS!

Update 2: The sink bubbled up again and now has more water in it.

4. The owner is shady as fuck.

The owner of the building is the original owner’s grandson. Ok, cool, he got a family business going. That’s cool and all, but why does his personality creep me out so much?

When he first met me, he thought that I was the mom, that I was the one running the show. But I’m not the mom, and I’m not even the one “running the show”. He knows full well that my dad was the one who decided to make my siblings and me live in a Boomer building, and my sister (bless her soul) is the one who is taking care of my brother and me (but it’s not like my dad will ever acknowledge that).

The way he talks is very strange, too, as if he’s trying to coo force me to be comfortable. And he blows me kisses too, like wtf? I understand doing that to your grandson, but doing that to a stranger, let alone a grown-ass adult is creepy.

He also has immigrant workers, which is not inherently bad, but on the day we were moving in, he showed my dad a text of one of the workers being deported back to the Dominican Republic. So either the immigrant workers are there undocumented or they did have a Visa or green card that expired and the owner didn’t let them renew their Visa/green card. If it’s the latter, then holy shit that’s fucked up. Also, I wonder how well they’re being treated in general when they’re working, or how much they get paid compared to other non-immigrant workers (oh wait, they can’t figure that out because we live in a culture that refuses to let their workers talk about their salaries in fear of demanding better wages, whoops).

5. The Wifi breaks every so often.

It’s not as big of a deal as the others on here, but it is annoying.

There’s constantly been construction going on in the street adjacent to the apartment building, and one time the cable got cut out. It took a few hours for the problem to be fixed.

It’ll be more annoying if the Wifi breaks while I’m trying to attend classes on Zoom or doing homework.

6. Other general bug problems

The bugs that my sister and I get are mostly mosquitoes, gnats, and other flies. In my dad’s apartment, where my brother sleeps, there are big black beetles everywhere! We don’t know if they’re cockroaches or not, but he gets many of them flying and crawling in his room every night, and he has to lose hours upon hours of sleep whacking these bugs with a fly swatter until they’re dead. And once he kills one, another starts flying around. We have no idea where these ones are coming from either.

In conclusion, this apartment building is very problematic, and the only reason why other people haven’t complained about the problems of this building is that they’re old and are less likely to notice or care about these problems. I wouldn’t be surprised if the walls have asbestos in them. Unfortunately, I have to be stuck here for at least another five months, maybe more if this pandemic rages on for decades (thanks in no part to the government - oh, whoops, I’m not supposed to say that, lol).

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading this post. Again, this post was mostly for venting, but some helpful advice on how to get out of this situation (or at least not feel like I’m suffering so much) would be appreciated.

If you’re living in a similar situation as I am, I do have one piece of advice for you - don’t go to Quora and anonymously ask questions. They WILL bully you.

#senior living #ok boomer #boomer #elderly living #help #venting #apartment #personal

5 notes · View notes

flintsjohn · 5 years

Note

Malex: alex finding his mom

i… have no idea what this is. this might as well be two fics in one because it doesn’t really make sense but oh well, i hope you like this, nonnie!i know rath was michael’s real name or whatev in the og show but i have no creativity for names.disclaimer: i know very little about native american culture. i’ve done some quick research to find out what tribe alex’s mom could be part of, and her name i found in this video, though, as they say in the vid, the word sunlight would actually be spelled “shándíín”. please do let me know if there’s anything that needs fixing!

Michael opens the door after the fourth knock, a scowl onhis face and a crying baby perched on his hip. He deflates a little when hesees Alex who, on his part, lowers his raised first slowly, eyes fixed on thechild.

“You have a kid?” He says, voice low and a little lost.Sure, he hasn’t seen Michael in a while, but it hasn’t been nearly long enoughfor him to have had a son. Least ofall one that looks like he’s about a year old.

“It’s a long story.” Michael waves away the question, scowl stillin place. Alex swallows a couple of times and buries his hands in the pocketsof his jean jacket. Michael is still staring at him questioningly and it makesAlex squirm.

“I need your help,” he says in the end. Michael just raisesan eyebrow at him. “I know we haven’t been on the warmest terms recently, but-“He trails off. That’s an understatement. He’d stopped talking to both Michaeland Maria entirely after he’d found out about them. With Maria, it had been alittle easier to mend the connection after the initial burn, but Alex had kepthis distance from Michael even after Maria had let him know things hadn’tworked out between them. They’ve barely seen each other in the last six months –though they’ve both worked on resolving the Max and Rosa situation – let alonespoke to each other. So Michael’s snort is more than justified.

“What, haven’t got any little friends you can ask?”

“That’s-“ Alex sighs and bites down on the retort he hasready on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t come here to fight, he remindshimself. “I don’t trust any of them with this.”

Michael’s eyes widen a little, then narrow, and after asecond he’s stepping aside and waving Alex through. Alex has never actuallybeen inside Michael’s new place, so he looks around curiously. There are toysscattered around, a couple of pacifiers on the coffee table, along with acoffee mug. The tv is on, some kind of cartoon playing, but Michael shuts itoff as soon as he’s closed the door behind them.

“I was about to feed him,” Michael says, nodding at thebaby, who’s gone quiet as is now chewing on his fist as he stares at Alex. It’sa bit unsettling, to be studied this way by a one-year-old. “You can talk whileI do that.”

Alex nods and follows him in the little kitchen. He fallsinto a chair when Michael points to it, a grateful sigh escaping his lips.Michael settles the kid in a booster seat and goes back to preparing the meal,which Alex assumes he interrupted when he knocked. When he’s settled in frontof the booster seat, plastic kid-proof plate of baby food at the ready, he nodsto Alex to talk. It’s Alex’s turn to raise his eyebrows.

“Am I supposed to just ignore the kid?”

“Yes,” Michael hisses, then sighs at Alex’s unimpressedstare. “He’s not mine.”

Alex scoffs. He wants to say he begs to differ, because themop of light brown curls and the wide hazel eyes the baby is sporting are indicationenough. Michael seems to know that and regret his words, because he winces assoon as they’re out of his mouth.

“I mean, not exactly.” He sets the spoon down and coos atthe baby when he makes a protesting noise. “He came from one of the new pods wefound, about four months back. Kyle and Liz think he was about eight monthswhen we found him, so he’s around one now. I-“ he bites his lip and looks betweenthe kid and Alex, “I think he’s my brother. My biological brother, yʼknow. Hereached for me when he woke up, so I took him. I think he recognized mesomehow.”

He shrugs and goes back to feeding the baby, completelyignoring Alex’s open-mouthed stare. Alex licks his lips, shaking himself out ofhis stupor after a second. The questions shoot out of his mouth before he cancontrol them, “Does he have a name? And are you going to raise him as your own?”

“Rath, and yes,” Michael says, completely focused on thebaby, who smiles up at him at the sound of his name. Something that soundssuspiciously like Da comes out of hismouth and Michael blushes at that. It makes Alex go all soft inside and he hasto look away before he does something stupid like reach for Michael. Dammit, it’salready hard to be around him on his own, but with a kid? It’s totally unfair.

“Your turn,” Michael says after a second.

“Right, um. You remember when I told you about my mom?”Michael turns back to him, spoon halfway to Rath’s mouth. He nods, confused.“When I was trying to figure out my dad’s involvement with Project Shepard, Icalled her. She’d been in this care home for years, and when my dad let me knowhow I’ve been able to contact her, even visited a couple of times, but then,after my dad woke from the coma, I wasn’t able to reach her anymore. I think hemoved her to another facility, so I spent the last five months looking for her.At one point I thought-“ He swallows, blinking around the tears forming in hiseyes. He hadn’t even wanted to entertain the possibility, but he knew his dadwas capable of that and more. “But I think I found her. I just… I donʼt thinkI can go alone. I understand if you want to say no, considering last time…”He trails off, fidgeting with his jacket as he stares at a burnt spot on thetable top.

“Alex,” Michael says gently, reaching a hand out to him. He doesn’ttouch him, and Alex wants to cry at that because he misses Michael, missesbeing touched by him and talking to him, and realizes now this is probably a wayworse idea than he’d initially thought. He looks up at him anyway, hopeful. “I’llgo. I just need to call Iz and see if she can take Rath.”

They set off early the next morning, Alex passing over acoffee to a bleary-eyed Michael as the alien gets into the passenger seat ofAlex’s SUV. Michael nods in gratitude, slumping against the door. They don’tsay anything for the first few miles, Michael busy nursing his coffee. Alex cansee he’s fidgety, checking his phone every other minute.

“I’m sorry,” he says when he can’t take Michael’s restlessenergy anymore. Michael looks up at him, lowering the coffee cup with aconfused sound. “I know this can’t be easy. Leaving him. And this thing with mymom-“

“I agreed to it,” Michael interrupts him, voice soothing.Alex shoots him a grateful smile and they fall back into silence for a while.It’s not until Alex is turning into the drive way for the care facility thatMichael speaks up. “What’s her name? Your mom’s?”

Alex puts the car into park and pauses, only now realizingthat though he’d mentioned his mom in passing to Michael over the years, he’dnever actually talked about her. Hefeels shame roiling in his stomach and has to swallow a couple of times beforehe can give Michael an answer. “Shundeen. I… Think it means sunlight, inNavajo. We never really talked about her heritage.”

He bites his lower lip around a sigh, wiping his hands overhis face before he can get emotional. He hops down from the car, alreadywalking towards the entrance when Michael catches up to him. They find thereception and the nurse there, fortunately, lets them through without much of afuss when Alex explains his relation to one of the patients. They’re shown intoa bright recreational room where several of the patients are watching tv orplaying card games. Alex spots his mom sitting under an open window, book inhand. His heart clenches and he sighs in relief – she seems to be just fine.

Before they move closer, Alex turns to face Michael, handsraised between them. “You can wait here.” Michael’s eyebrows shoot up and he’salready opening his mouth to argue, but Alex interrupts him. “No, listen. Youknow about Mimi DeLuca, right?”

Michael’s brow bunches in confusion. “She forgets stuff. Ithought-“ Michael’s eyes widen in realization at Alex’s silence, mouth fallingopen in a perfect o. “You think herillness was caused by aliens.”

“Kyle and I aren’t sure, but yes. Apparently, Mimi had beenworking with my dad and Jim Valenti. Dad had Jim killed, but I figured he didn’tquite manage that with Mimi. They must’ve had another alien who could causedementia at Caufield.”

He can see the color draining from Michael’s face and wantsnothing more than reach for him, take one of his hands and comfort him. Heknows exactly what his mind’s flashing back to right now, because he’s thinkingof the same thing. With Rath around now, Alex can understand how much deeperthe loss of his mom hits. He watches as Michael blinks back the tears from hiseyes.

“You think he did the same to your mom?” Michael whispers,eyes shooting to the woman sitting in the chair.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Alex nods, “She left when Iwas so young, I didn’t even question when he told me it was because there wassomething wrong with her mind. He wouldn’t let me visit her at first, so I didn’tget to talk to her until after my first tour. She remembered me immediately,but her mind wanders, sometimes. I think maybe she was exposed for a briefperiod, just so my dad would have enough proof to get her committed.”

Michael curses under his breath, his eyes still lost overAlex’s shoulders. His fists are clenched at his sides and once again, Alex hasto push down the need to reach for him. He’s about to reiterate that Michaelcan wait where he is when their eyes meet again and Michael speaks, “You’re notdoing this alone.”

Alex feels a bit like crying, but all he does is nod. Hismom looks up when they approach, and her smile immediately puts him at ease.She looks happy to see him.

“Hi, mom.”

“My boy,” she says, setting aside her book so she can reachfor him. He hugs her tightly for a few long seconds, then lowers himself in theempty chair to her left. Michael hovers, uncertain, until Alex nods to theother chair. “Mom, this is Michael, my friend from high school, remember?”

Shundeen nods, her eyes focusing on Michael. Alex has tohide a smile when he can see him shift under her studying gaze. It only lasts asecond, because then she’s turning back to Alex. Her smile has gone a littlesad. “I didn’t think you’d find me.”

Alex curses his father’s name to hell and back, for puttinghis mom through this for no reason. For having loved her children and wantingto protect them. He takes his mom’s hand in his, stroking his thumb across thesoft skin. “Of course. I’ll always find you.”

They spend the rest of the morning catching up. He tells herabout having been honorably discharged, about the progress with his leg, aboutfinding private coding gigs so he can work from home. They don’t mention Jesse,though his shadow still hovers over them. Shundeen’s eyes grow distantsometimes, and Alex has to call her name a few times to get her to focus, or hehas to repeat stories he’s sure he’s already told her, but she looks like she’sdoing much better than the last time he talked to her over the phone, back whenhe first found out about Project Shepard.

They say goodbye when the patients are called in for lunch.Alex kisses his mom on both cheeks, then presses his forehead to hers for a fewseconds. He’s so lost in his overwhelming emotions that he doesn’t noticeMichael hanging back for a moment, not until he’s outside, able to breatheproperly again and realizes he’s alone. He shoots Michael a questioning lookwhen he finally gets out of the building, but Michael just shakes his head andnods to the car.

“I want to get her out of here. Take her home,” Alex sayswhen they’re back in the SUV. He’s staring straight ahead, unable to look atMichael right now.

“Your dad-“

“I know,” he sighs, eyes falling shut as he drops his headto the headrest. “I want to find a way.”

They’re silent for so long that Alex wonders if Michael hasfallen asleep, but when he opens his eyes to look over at him, Michael meetshis gaze with unwavering eyes. “Thank you, for coming with me.”

“Of course.” Michael smiles, small and genuine, and Alex’sbreath catches in his throat. He hasn’t been this close to Michael in months,hasn’t let himself think about it, but now they’re here and his blood isthundering in his ears. He focuses on the sound of Michael’s voice, the softdrawl of it. “She thanked me, you know.” He smiles again at the inquiring soundAlex makes. “She said, ‘Thank you for loving my boy’, and then she hugged me.”

Alex feels like crying. Again. He gives in and reaches forMichael’s hand, squeezing it tight. He’s overwhelmed and can’t say anything,but he sees in Michael’s eyes that that little interaction has meant the worldto him, having that one bit of motherly love he’d only experienced brieflybefore it had been ripped away from him. He can see the love he feels for thisman reflected on Michael’s face, and it hits him in full force – the need to bewith Michael has never been stronger.

They’re frozen, staring at each other, for a long time. It’sMichael, always Michael, that makes the first move in the end. He shifts in hisseat so he’s leaning forward, hands stopping a hair’s breadth away from Alex’schest. He’s not looking directly at Alex when he says, “I’d really like to kissyou.”

Alex has the presence of mind to whisper “Please”, and thenhe forgets about everything else around him because Michael’s lips are finallyon his again. It’s softer than it’s ever been, unhurried. Peaceful. Michael’shands cup his face like he’s something precious and when he pulls back, Alexcan feel the tears rolling down his cheeks. He sniffs and dries his face withthe sleeve of his hoodie, trying to dissimulate with a laugh. It comes out wetand painful.

“I missed you,” he mumbles, fingers curling in Michael’s shirtso he can keep him close, his head resting on Michael’s shoulder. They staylike that for a long time, until Michael presses a kiss to his hair and offersto drive.

The journey back is similar to the way over, only there’s asense of peace and calm between them that wasn’t there before. Alex spends histime watching the side of Michael’s face and the relaxed slope of his shoulders.They’re just crossing over into Roswell when he says, “Come home with me.”

“I have to-“

“You and Rath,” Alex hurries to clarify. Michael looks overat him like he’s grown a second head. “I want this, want you. I’ve spent thelast six months yearning for you, Guerin, cursing myself for having been toolate. I don’t want to waste another minute.”

Michael makes a choked-off sound in his throat, and then thecar is swerving off the road. Alex almost yelps, but Michael’s just putting thecar into park and launching himself over the central console so that he cankiss Alex.

“You can’t just say shit like that,” he mutters when hepulls back, still close enough that his lips brush against Alex’s with everyword. He sighs, forehead pressed close to Alex’s temple. “We have so much towork through, Alex.”

“I know.”

“I can’t be that easy.”

“I know.”

“I have a kid.”Michael pulls back completely, incredulous laugh bubbling from his chest. Alexjust stares at him calmly until he’s done. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’m sayingthis, but- Yes.”

“Yes?” Alex’s tone is hopeful, too hopeful, his heartpounding in his chest.

“Yes, I want that. I want you. This is crazy,” Michaelshakes his head with a laugh and wipes his hands over his face, but continues, “Idon’t care that I just got an apartment. I don’t care that we have a decade ofshitty things to work through. I want to come home to you at the end of theday, I want to raise Rath with you, I want-“

Alex shuts him up with a kiss. They’ll have time to figureout whatever they need. For now, he just wants to kiss Michael until they bothforget where they are.

#malex #malex fic #rnm fic #my writing #my ficlets #this really makes no sense but anyway! im soft and so are they!#roswell nm

126 notes · View notes

everyfandomiknowisafandomilove · 5 years

Text

MARRIEGE ARRANGED CHAPTER 5

Notes:

Babessss I did it, this chapter was costing me a lot, but i finished it, and I love it, well is not so awesome but I really like it and I hope you enjoy it too. Sorry if it took me to write chapter, I have 2 works and 0 time for me and I been a little ill so, I'm sorry. but lots of love

George stared at you waiting for an answer. After what you felt was an eternity, you responded.

"It's something between Fred and me" you looked nervously at everything but George.

"Did you kiss him too?" You opened your eyes wide and stared at George, speechless.

"You kissed?" Asked Fred pretending surprise

"I know you saw us," George said rolling his eyes but not taking his eyes off you.

"I'll be over there" Fred pointed to one point of the store away from you, leaving you two alone.

"So?" You looked at George frowning,

"So what?" You answered.

"About the kiss" he said quietly, while your face turned all the shades of red

"I don't know what you're talking about" you were trying to pretend dementia.

"Oh I know very well that you know what I'm talking about, and your face betrays you" you felt like your face burned with shame.

"It was just a kiss, nothing important," you almost whispered without looking at his face.

"Excuse me?" George brought his ear to you, mockingly, which bother you.

"That was just a kiss nothing important!" You yelled, and looking at his mocking smile you felt even more ashamed, George Weasley was an idiot and his actions proved it.

"It's true, she kisses her grandmother in the same way," Fred said as he walked near you and pointed at you with his index, George and you opened your eyes and he couldn't stand laughing, while you just wanted the earth to open in that instant and swallow you.

"Shut it" you yelled at Fred, as he walked away laughing where they were "I was drunk and that happens ... sometimes ..." you tried to fix the situation, George just wiped a tear from his eye while trying to stop laughing.

"Fine" replied after calming down, looked at you and turned to work, you followed him with a frown.

“Are you happy with that?” You asked and George just shrugged, while he worked for the store you followed him for a while longer, why was he happy with that answer? And why were you not happy with it? While you were thinking this you did not realize that he had stopped and crashed into him, you closed your eyes waiting for the impact, but it never happened, you slowly opened one eye and noticed that George had you in his arms very close to him, to prevent you from falling , you stared at him without saying a word, for a moment it didn't feel so uncomfortable, didn't bother you, and it didn't feel bad to be like this with him.

"Are you drunk now?" He said smiling halfway and you could see a small gleam in his eyes, his words took you out of your thoughts and you got upset from him "are you going to follow me like a lost puppy all over the store?"

"No" you replied annoyed, he kept waiting for the reason you were still there, "right, when were you going to tell me about the food that we were going to go together tomorrow?" you looked at him and he put his hand on his chin in thoughtful gesture.

"Today?" He shrugged one shoulder, and you looked at him with narrowed eyes "Tomorrow?" You looked at the sky exasperated

“Do you want our moms to organize game dates for us? We were supposed to "get along" with each other. what did you plan to say when you would arrive alone and somebody ask for me? "He shrugged and replied calmly

"That you were busy kissing your grandmother?" You started beating him while he laughed and covered your punches, after a while trying to hit him uselessly you started laughing because George Weasley was an idiot, but he was a very funny idiot.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The next day you appeared alone in the burrow, George mentioned that he had something to do, which was weird, because when Fred who casually heard him asked what, George only answered "things" you didn't ask any more, because you didn't care, right?

"Darling, what a pleasure" Molly gave you a big hug. When she separated, and look around you frowning "Where is George? I thought you were coming together” before you could answer George appeared behind her

"Boo" Molly jumped in fright and you tried to suppress a smile

“Are you 24 years old, when will you stop acting like a child? "Molly asked repressing him

"Someday" George replied with a shrug, looked at you and greeted you with a "hey" which you responded with a nod

"This is how you greet your fiancee?" Molly repressed him again, to which George responded by approaching you and pinching your cheeks

“It's true, how are you, you little munchkin? "He said as he moved your head from side to side, you wanted to seem upset but you failed to laugh while you hit his hands to let you go.

"Children," Molly said as she shook her head in disapproval but there was a small smile on her lips, and I leave them alone.

"Where is Fred?" Asked George, releasing your cheeks.

"If I cared, it would bother me if you prefer to be with your brother with whom you live and work, instead of your fiancée ... but I don't care, I think it's over there" you said pointing to where you thought you heard Fred's voice, George pinched your cheek again smiling and winking an eye while he went in search of his brother, you saw him until you lost sight of him, and you kept smiling and gave yourself a little slap "I don't care" you repeated for yourself.

"There you are" You turned to hear the voice of the smallest of the Weasleys, smiled and approached to her who was accompanied by Hermione, who looked at you with a small smile on her lips "so?" Ginny asked as she wiggle her eyebrows and smiling

"so? What? ”You answered and Ginny and Hermione rolled their eyes

“Come on, we saw you, I guess there were more kisses, right? “Ginny said and hit you with the elbow in the ribs, you felt your face getting hot, and put behind your ear a lock of your hair which was long and wavy and color burgundy today.

"No" you said and they both looked at you waiting for you to tell them what had happened, you exhaled loudly in defeat looking at the ground "we only talked about what happened, I told him I was drunk and did not know what I had done, and he said it was fine" When you looked at them, you saw a frown on their faces." What? "

"He said that? He didn't say "I don't believe you y/n" and then kissed you passionately?" Hermione asked imitating really bad George's voice, you couldn't stand the laugh

"I didn't know you were a secret romantic" you said while laughing

"Well, she reads too many books, I guess many of them are romantic novels," said Ginny, Hermione just shrugged her shoulders trying to fake anger but in the end she joined Ginny and you laughing.

“Well if you haven't changed? The last time I saw you, you were missing two front teeth in front and you didn't go beyond 5 ft ”you turned with a smile on your face when you heard the voice of the person behind you "look at you at least you already have all your teeth”

"Bill Weasley," you said happily hugging the eldest son of the Weasleys, "I'm afraid to tell you that I'm already 5.5 ft, but you haven't changed anything“

"Well, a few of these are new" said Bill pointing to his face, although he smiled you could see that it was something that did not make him happy.

"Pouf" you said, downplaying it with your hand. "It's unfair, everyone knows that scarring makes men hot, right?" You said to the woman next to him.

"If it was difficult to get women away from him before, now it is impossible" she said with a peculiar accent.

"You must be Fleur, I am y/n, a pleasure" you extended your hand towards her who took it smiling.

"The pleasure is mine," she replied and you looked closely at the small lump in his stomach.

"Merlin" you said covering your smile with your hands "how much time do you have?"

"6 months" she said happily patting her belly.

"Congratulations" you said hugging her again and also Bill who laughed and answer you

"Thank you, but we are supposed to congratulate you, I didn't imagine that would happen in this way but I always thought you would end up together"

"Really?" You answered

"Is it true that you don't remember it?" Asked Bill, frowning and you nood with your head in response. "Mom said you didn't like the news when you two found out, I apologize for what my father did ..."

"It's okay" you interrupted him before he kept talking "my father is equally guilty, but we are fine now" you shrugged a shoulder "with George I mean" Bill put a quiet smile on his face, this whole thing you know that worried your family and the Weasleys, you know that although they seemed happy and maybe a part of them was, the idea that everything had happened the way it was, it was not entirely welcome.

"Where is George?" Asked Bill, taking you out of your thoughts.

"I think he is playing with Fred over there" you said pointing to the garden that is where you saw sideways George had come out, why were you so aware of him? "I don't care" you repeated to yourself. Bill went in search of his brother, while Fleur talked with Hermione and Ginny, and you apologized to go to greet your family and the rest of the Weasley plus Harry. Mrs. Weasley called everyone to the table, which you approached while you talked with Ron and Harry about their work as aurors, when you arrived at the table you doubted where you should sit until you felt like someone next to you moved the chair, and it was George, who pointed with the hand to make you sit, you sat with a frown waiting for him to have a planned joke or something, but nothing happened, he sat next to you and continued talking to Fred who was sitting in front of him. Everyone ate menacingly.

"How are the wedding arrangements going?" Asked Fleur curious, you looked at her and then George both shrugged.

"Our moms are planning everything" you said smiling to your mom and Mrs. Weasley "we trust their good taste" to what they smiled back.

"As long as I can dress as I want," said George shrugging one shoulder and filling his mouth with food.

“You'll wear nice dress robes, young man” Mrs. Weasley say.

"Where's the fun in that?" Asked George, rolling his eyes.

"You're right" you answered looking at him and taking everyone by surprise "what do you think about a themed wedding, you can go disguised as a Leprechaun" you said sticking out your tongue.

"Ha ha ha, very funny, okay well you can go like a Puffskein" he said laughing while pinching your cheeks again, you were trying to let him release your cheeks and not laugh about it but you couldn't help it, when George and you stopped laughing you looked at everyone at the table who was quiet and had small smiles on their faces, your mother and Mrs. Weasley glazed eyes "what?" asked George.

Mrs. Weasley wiped a small tear that was about to leave her eye and smiling openly "nothing, it's just that I thought you were lying when you said your relationship was improving, but now seeing it with my own eyes I feel calmer"

George cleared his throat uncomfortable, you looked at your plate feeling your face burn.

"But we believed you George," said Ron, enduring laughter

"Yes, but you can kiss to make it clear." You looked up quickly, oh and if looks could kill, Hermione Granger would be dead right now, which clearly didn't matter to her because she had the same expression as Ron, and Ginny, even Harry although he looked like he felt sorry a little.

"Yeah, Kiss the girl Georgie" you turned your face towards Fred who would be doubly dead by the daggers that cast your gaze and George's, all eyes were on you.

"Oh fine," said George, putting his hands to the sky in annoyance, then he took your face with his hands and kissed you, your eyes widened, you thought it would be a little peck, but not, George was kissing you and your eyes closed and you were kissing him back, and for a moment you forgot where you were but then you heard how everyone celebrated, you suppose George also because he quickly separated from you “happy?” he muttered and turned to look at his food which you also did, you could feel your face burn, it was probably redder than the color of your hair of the day, you looked sideways at George and his face was almost the same color as his, why was he blushing? He had made it clear that he didn't care if you kissed him, why it would matter if he did? It didn't mean anything right? "I don't care" you repeated yourself in your head "I don't care?"

#george #george weasley x reader #george weasley #original character #ginny weasley #hermione granger #ron weasley #bill weasley #fleur delacour #hp #harry potter #fanfiction #fanfic #marriege #marriege arranged #JK Rowling

19 notes · View notes

abybweisse · 5 years

Text

LONG VENT POST: Family issues, part 1 of ?

So, a bit ago I said I’m not as active right now, due to family issues. I didn’t want to fill the thread of that post with all the long, sordid details.

Right now I’m trying to get my mother into an “assisted living and memory care” community (nursing home, basically) and doing everything I can to stop her credit union accounts from hemorrhaging from all her incompetence (she’s been scammed a bunch and generally taken advantage of).

Yesterday’s biggest takeaway was the discovery of numerous scams she fell for over the past few years... plus three months worth of fraudulent Uber and Uber Eats charges... and the fact that she pays about $550/mo on car insurance but the last couple times (at least, maybe more) she got collision repairs done? She didn’t file claims and pay a $500 deductible. No, she paid in full, out of pocket. Out $7k instead of $1k for two repairs in just a few months’ time. How can you pay huge insurance premiums and never notify them when you need collision repairs?!

Found out just recently that about a couple years ago, someone scammed her for an easy $5k. Found out she never deposits the full amount on car payments I send her. She never makes full deposits on the rent a tenant pays her. Instead, she cashes much of them out, and I have no idea what she does with the cash.

She buys stuff in bulk but cannot use most of it before it goes bad, but she refuses to toss out expired foods. Her hoarding tendencies have gotten worse. Even though she tells my sister and I not to send her gifts that would add to the clutter in the house, I found out yesterday she’s been dropping $200-$300 on random stuff from places like TJ Maxx and Tuesday Morning just because they made her “happy”. She hasn’t even unpackaged the hanging glass butterflies or other things. I told her she can take them to the “home”....

She’s wrecked two brand new Priuses (about $30k each, each paid up front/in full with inheritance money from my dad, who died five years ago) within about two years’ time. The first was “totaled”, but I have yet to verify whether she ever opened a claim to get money for it. This one hasn’t been officially declared totaled or repairable. I had to file the claim on it on her behalf. For all I know, the $550/mo premium might be on both cars. I’ll know for sure soon. If she’s been paying insurance on a car that was “totaled” two years ago instead of getting market value of about $22k, I will definitely break down and cry. For at least the 50th time in the past few days. Seriously, if she just found out the previous one couldn’t be fixed and walked away from it without filing a claim and getting the huge payout... and is therefore also still paying for insurance on it? I’ll probably scream, too.

The latest (and last ever) car wreck was last Wednesday. We’ve been telling her for over a year she shouldn’t be driving. Her doctors have told her the same for at least 6mo. My sister and I were planning to visit her and take away her keys, but the wreck happened before we could even finalize our travel plans.

This time, she was trying to get to dialysis (she goes three days a week), and she couldn’t use Uber anymore, so she was determined to drive herself. Just before 5 am, she was driving down her own residential street and blacked out (apparently) and hit three parked (and unoccupied) vehicles. Police showed up and she got out of her car and told them she needed a ride to dialysis. One of the officers took her. She can’t recall hitting three cars. Told me she hit a curb and one car. Later told someone else she only hit a curb. I don’t know anything about the curb, but probably. However, I definitely believe the police report that three parked cars were hit badly and had to be towed away, too. After the police spoke to her tenant, they said they’d make things easier for us and revoke her license. Phew.

I convinced dialysis staff (actually, they completely agreed without question) to send her to hospital afterwards instead of letting yet another friend take her home. Good thing, too, because before dialysis was even up that morning, she was in a lot of pain; she had told them earlier she didn’t need to be looked at. Well... no broken bones, no major injuries, and her labs were ok except slightly low potassium. However, a brain scan showed something I already knew just by dealing with her: it showed ischemic changes associated with dementia. Monday of that week, I had called her renal doctor to tell him I worried about her mental health and wondered if it had anything to do with the renal failure. He said he didn’t think so; it’s got to be something else causing the mental decline we are seeing. When I told him she’s still driving sometimes, he became furious and said he’d refer her to get a full dementia evaluation. Well, before he could even get the referral to her, she’d wrecked again. He’s seen her now, but I haven’t heard any updates from him. Mom says she hasn’t done the evaluation (that she knows of), and she heard someone at the hospital mention “dementia”, but she doesn’t recall what they said about it. 😔

I didn’t take photos when I finally saw her car, but I’m going back up to Dallas tomorrow and staying in a Motel 6 overnight (with my dog) to take care of as much financial matters for her as I can in these next two days. I’ll get another chance to see the car (to clean out items), so I’ll take pics then. I might not get back to Austin until sometime Wednesday. Not sure about Wednesday yet, but I already requested Monday and Tuesday off from work by email and left a vm with coworkers. I’m about to run out of annual leave because of this. I know I’ll be making many weekend trips coming up until my sister and I have gotten her moved into the nursing facility. And for a while afterwards, too, since we have to clean out the house, put some of her stuff into a storage unit, and sell the house ASAP. Plus, we need to visit often, at least at first, to make sure she’s settled in, isn’t hating it too much, and is being taken care of properly.

It’s a good thing my sister is paying for my hotel charges and has also offered gas money (though I haven’t asked for gas money... yet). This is still way cheaper for her than booking herself flights back and forth between Olympia, WA and Dallas, TX. The more leg work I do on this, the happier my sister is to help with my travel costs. Honestly, she really doesn’t want to come down here until it’s time to move our mom, clean the house, and put it up for sale.

And, since we have so little time to get her affairs in order, we are placing her in the only community my mom and I have toured, so far. I told her if it turns out to not be a good place (at all) once she moves in, we can keep looking at others (while she still lives at that one) and move her again. But, honestly, this place does seem nice enough, and none of these places are perfect. Plus, it’s right next to the hospital where she always goes... the one where her doctors are associates. I joked that if they needed to send her to the hospital, they could put her on a gurney and wheel her down the street. She laughed at that and said the location is perfect.

Sigh. She’s being compliant and has even said thanks for us (her two daughters) stepping up to help her and get things taken care of. We were afraid she would refuse to leave her house of almost 40years. She’s not even batting an eye at us deciding to sell the house to make sure she can afford the rent and services (the suites at the community are rented out like apartments, but with three meals a day and unlimited snacks, weekly cleaning service, weekly laundry service, landline phone, cable, and internet included. We will have to pay more for “memory care” and probably for medical transport they provide (unless that’s included, too), plus whatever else. She might take her cat with her, or she might leave him with a friend of the family. But it’s a one-time, non-refundable fee of $500 if she keeps him. I kind of hope she gives him up, and they just bring him along on visits to her. She would have trouble taking care of him.

She’s never shown me her finances before. We had no idea how bad (completely uncontrolled) her spending was. It was probably bad enough before our dad died, but afterwards, she started going downhill fast. Now she’s in renal failure and requires dialysis three days a week. She’s recently lost an unhealthy amount of weight in a very short time, apparently because she can’t remember to eat and sometimes she’s too disoriented to get up. She can’t cook anymore, and she’s hardly done cleaning chores since she had kids (that’s what us kids were for: housework). So she’s a money-wasting hoarder in a house full of dirty dishes, dirty clothes, clutter everywhere, and $100’s — maybe $1000 worth — of groceries she can’t get through but won’t throw out when they go bad. And she won’t let anyone else touch them while she’s still living there.

I have so much to do the next couple days, I had to write a list of each thing I need to look into and take care of before I return home. I still have some stuff to get ready for the trip, so this is the end of the first vent post.

I hope I get more sleep tonight than I have the past week....

#off topic #PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG #will reblog to off topic #might delete later #venting #family problems #dementia #assisted living #nursing home #memory care #long post #personal post

17 notes · View notes