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#there's this weird grief and celebration because i am so glad we are where we are. i just wish everybody cpuld have seen this
uncanny-tranny · 5 months
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Not a day goes by where I do not think about the advent of medicine like PrEP and wonder just what the people - especially queer people - who passed from HIV/AIDs during the AIDs crisis would think
And then, I read this survivor's testimony and it just makes me emotional. I think this is the closest answer we have. HIV has changed, and we must always remember the people who didn't see that change before it happened.
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breesays · 5 months
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Confront all of your pain like a gift under the tree
It takes a lot of energy to keep it together. I had so much fun at Emo Nite on Friday, celebrating my birthday (early) with my best friend, singing to Fall Out Boy, Paramore, MCR, TSL and even Brand New (I've seen more spine in jellyfish / I've seen more guts in 11-year-old kids). It was exactly what I needed.
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It was fun, but I felt just on the edge of losing my shit the whole time. I only cried a little, when they played "I Miss You" by blink-182, because that came out in 2004. Peak me and PJ. Oh, and "Memory" by Sugarcult. Just trickles. I am still having so much trouble with how sad I am. The grief feels physical, heavy.  The sobs suck the life out of me. This is stupid. He was just my first boyfriend. I'm just an ex-girlfriend. Worse, probably one whose timeline overlaps with several others. What I'm learning is that doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if the relationship was credible. It's not a court case, it was a formative experience.
I went out instead of staying home alone and grieving, excavating. It felt like progress, but I know I still have complicated feelings to wade through. Lots of water metaphors lately - waves, the sea, swimming.
What does it mean, that I'm having such a hard time with this?
A breakup is immediate pain, surface pain, relatable, identifiable, categorical. A hole. A changing of roles.  This was a TWENTY year old relationship. Is he haunting me? I do feel like the time I didn't know about it (almost 3 years) was kind of a gift. There is no way I could have handled this news at the top of 2021. With a kid under two, quarantine and a bubbling identity crisis?
A weird thing I tried to figure out is - what was I doing when he was dying? What was I tweeting, what was I writing, what was I thinking? We didn't have any kind of cosmic connection, that's not what this is about. (This is what I was writing)
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It's hard for me to say we were friends because that feels like an insult to the friends who were good to me. Mostly we flirted, and we fought. But I did care about him, and I wrote about checking up on him a lot. Once he asked me to check his email for him while he was traveling. It was 2003, so that's not a thing we could do on our phones yet. He never changed his password after that, so I sporadically checked his email until like, 2010, when two-factor authentication appeared on the scene. This is how I knew he was a compulsive liar. This is how I knew he did NOT have "abdominal" cancer in 2009, and that it was just a ploy to get me to talk to him again.
Should I have done something? Could I have done anything?
My therapist asked, what did he make you feel? I had trouble putting it into words, called it elemental - I had such strong reactions to him, I said. "Oh," she said, "so he made you feel alive."
And that's where the gut-punch is, right?
I'm glad I wrote down everything. I saved everything. He still lives there. I was already diving into past stuff for the book I'm writing, but now I'm a little more focused on getting the timeline right. And it's all there.
That fraction of my life feels so neon-bright. So sharp. I was so unfiltered.
I can't believe I'm still feeling this. I can't believe I'm still writing about it. It feels like a little like purging, like I'm trying to exorcise it so it exists OUTSIDE of me. Wringing it out of my organs, pushing on the bruise again and again and again until the pain is base level.
"What makes you feel alive now?" she asked.
Music.
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nachosncheeze · 1 year
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I am really, really glad they removed the pregnancy test scene. And hear me out - this is completely separate from "Jeller babies aren't really my thing", and I sincerely think that even if they were, I would still be glad that scene was gone from this episode.
I've always suspected the mention of a pregnancy at all at this point was maybe just a hedging of bets by the writers in case they got cancelled and needed to quickly tack on a "don't worry everyone's happy, see? no one's sick it's just babies" situation (I wonder if that's what happened to the phantom Avery scenes, too, like maybe they were filmed for a series ending that was thankfully not needed). They didn't publicly confirm a renewal until after filming was done, so maybe this deleted pregnancy test scene was just to close the opening they'd left themselves. Admittedly, deleting it did leave the conversation Jeller had in the car about her suspicions hanging. I'm still glad they cut it.
I mean, Weller's wording was weird. Maybe Sully messed up the line, maybe not, but "now you know it's something you want. Or..... we want. Yes." doesn't sound like a hugely ringing endorsement of the thought to me. Let's assume the intent was really to convey "Yes we both very much want this."
Partially, from a story perspective, a confirmation that "we now know we want that" would be an even more awkward beat to leave hanging, and imo the writers nearly painted themselves into a corner where they would have had to address it again later, rather than leaving it to everyone's post-canon imaginations.
But more than anything, I'm glad it was cut because by removing it, they made Jane's grief in the final scene all about Roman. Think about it - she was talking about her brother when she collapsed, her brain "rebooting to factory settings" as Rich later called it. She didn't just ease into sickness the way Roman did; in a moment of extreme emotional distress she had a full memory-relapse. I love the angst of the push-pull love-hate between Jane and Roman, and imo, adding a fresh disappointment of finding out she really wanted but wasn't gonna get a child would just muddy the grief-stricken waters. By ditching it, they simplified the question. What made Jane Doe sad enough to completely short-circuit her brain?
They won. They beat the enemy. They're there to celebrate.
...She lost her brother.
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fatedwithmbc · 1 year
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Embarrassments from this Weekend:
1. After trying every form of protein possibly on the market, I discovered it can make you very gassy. Not a problem if you’re not being social. Very BIG problem when you have an overnight at your romantic interests’ house. Thanks, Cancer, you slut.
2. I made a cake for my brother’s belated birthday dinner. The very first thing I stated was, “it’s flat”. The very first thing my brother said was, “it’s missing some height”.
3. Emotional posts on my social media accounts were abundant this weekend. Today marks 2 years since my Dad’s passing. I’m in full “grief” mode. It also makes me think about my own passing. I just keep thinking, I’m also Stage IV, I can’t have much time left… who knows.
4. Admitting to myself how much I missed, and actually crave physical touch from someone who cares about me. I mean hugs, spooning, holding hands; you know, PG-13, innocent PDA. It’s made me realize, you need to hug whoever you love. You need physical touch to feel loved; whether it’s a hug platonically, or a family member, or even romantically.
5. Confessing to “E” that he couldn’t buy a new Michigan hat because I already had — for him. Which in turn left me feeling as if I have put the cart before the horse. Is it too soon for gifts? I mean, his birthday is in 2 weeks and I am fully prepared, despite our lack of “status”. I care for him and this is how I’d behave for anyone I care for - and cutting the shit: I’m excited about where “we” could be headed.
Amazing Things from this Weekend:
1. Time with “E”. Seeing him in person definitely solidified things for me. We’re oddly comfortable around each other. We can be quiet without it being awkward. There’s banter. Which I love the most. His demeanor is serious, yet caring - hard and soft; a complete paradox that I somehow understand. We cuddled watching Unsolved Mysteries with “R” taking up the middle between us. We went to bed— and had deeply open conversations, like kids at a sleepover refusing to go to bed. Sleep finally came, and I could have stayed in the most intentional yet gentle embrace in his arms forever. I slept well, and without the aid of medicines for the first time in ages. He let me sleep later as he took care of “R”. I made his bed and readied to leave- but not before discussing plans to see each other soon. True gentleman that he is, he walked me out to my car, gave me the best hug in the world and said “Text me when you’re home”. That important line that means someone cares for you. I hope this continues to trend positively. We’ve not stopped talking since I left.
2. Celebrating my Brother; his happiness is my happiness. Knowing he loved his gifts, enjoyed the cake I made for him and is opening up with me again is more than I could ever ask for. I’ve missed him. We won’t ever be the same, but we’re healing and adapting. We’re making our family important.
3. Seeing my Nephew — including the best greeting: his smiling face and excited voice beaming “Asheley!” Our silly games, our hugs and our good-byes. All of it, with him, is special and precious to me.
4. Learning the Buttercream Frosting recipe from Mom-Mom
5. Selecting the flowers for Dad’s bouquet, ensuring the depth and meaning I am always looking for was accomplished. Red Roses - Love; White Roses - Loyalty; Amaranth - Admiration & Friendship.
6. A Georgia mug was added to my “You Are Here” collection from Starbucks; courtesy of my SIL and Brother.
7. Pep-talks from my amazing Bestie (also identifiable as “E”) really helped calm my nerves on Friday. And she is feeling better after having COVID. She’s in the top 3 of my biggest supporters/carers. I’m so glad I have a solid friendship to rely on and that makes me feel entirely supported.
8. I won $59 on random lottery winnings which coincided with Dad’s birth year on the day of his death date. It was a weird universe, coincidence thing. And I love those types of “signs”.
Random Ramblings:
MBC has totally stolen my appetite and desire for food. I’m dying from these daily protein in-take targets. “E” cares about my protein in-take. He asks about my goal and progress each day. Plant protein is very “dry”. “Whey” protein tastes awful. I have one item I bought that I have left to try. The bottom line is that I don’t know how I can force myself to eat. It’s so damn hard. Especially because once you haven’t eaten for awhile, not eating food seems natural.
I started feeling neuropathy, (thanks again, Cancer), for the first time since taking the Kisqali. It’s in my hand. Totally can’t feel the objects in my hand when I hold them (only periodically). It feels like pins and needles or like it’s “sleeping”.
I discovered a storefront that does Tarot Readings in a town nearby. I’m going this week since I’m on a forced LOA. Forced LOA definitely frees up ones’ calendar. I am super interested in how the reading will progress and what it will ultimately reveal. I also reached out to some relatives about a possible trip to NY state during my LOA.
I’m exhausted, but still not sleeping without the aid of pills.
I have a few appointments this week. Nothing major. No shots, no labs, no surgery.
I’m successfully avoiding the bathroom scale. But admittedly, I’ll weigh myself tomorrow.
The End.
Notifications: @kcco265
Font Key:
1. Headers
2. Cancer or MBC; My Nemisis
3. Author Tidbits/Wisdom
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dzpenumbra · 2 years
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9/3/22
Today was a very good day. I would venture to say one of the best I've had in years. You ever have a day where you think... "this is gonna be a day I remember for years to come"? I guess you don't really plan those, do you?
It's weird, we kinda like to, don't we? We kinda like to make official days for celebrations, and deliberately try to mimic this feeling of true, organic memorialization. But it's never really the same, is it?
I connected with my brother. It was our first time spending time together since he went through some pretty severe trauma and we spent the day on my porch just talking. About a year. Unfortunately, that attempt to reconnect was too... inopportune a time. The insane emotional turbulence of immanent grief. I don't know if immanent is the right word, maybe immediate, acute, right-now/just-happened. That's the concept I'm trying to get across. He's admitted that emotional stuff is very difficult for him, and I understand why. Expressing emotions is very... unsafe in my family. Probably because it was unsafe in previous generations or something. So myself, a naturally hypersensitive emotional creative... I could relate. How could I judge? You know. I know what it's like. I tried to communicate it, but it's hard to get across without sounding arrogant or condescending. "Oh yeah, I know how you feel like not feeling safe sharing your feelings but having them just bursting the fuck out of you, I've been wrestling with that since I was in diapers." People can get defensive against that.
I am genuinely impressed to see his growth and maturity. It's... surreal. And I'm sure it has been for others seeing my awakening as well. I understand now, having seen this side of things and gone through it myself, why so many of my friends and family were completely disoriented and concerned. Well... I've grown pretty far away from understanding the "concerned" part honestly, so much time has passed since I had a dominant personality that could understand that way of thinking. It's like trying to remember a dream you had a few days ago or something.
But this meeting has been very unique. I see old parts of him fused with new confidence, new excitement and curiosity, a desire not as much to "be right", but to engage in the constant process of discovery. To share these discoveries with the passion and enthusiasm he feels inside, genuinely, honestly, fully. I can feel the "but wait until you hear this!" like... effervescence. Like a boiling kettle. I mean these are obviously abstract analogies here, right. How the fuck can you describe the emotional excitement you "contact high" through someone in close proximity to you, that you're sharing an experience with?
That quality, that moment - it is a mirror to my gifts. And very clearly demonstrates to me that he shares this gift. Expressive passion. When engaged truthfully, honestly. Not exaggerated. Not forced. Real, genuine excitement. That makes not just a good teacher, but just a good person to be around. There are those who will hate it. Feel threatened by it. "Oh you're really into Starcraft, huh? You weeb. You nerd. You loser." That kinda shit, right? I'm just completely done listening to people like that. Just like... for real. I have no idea why I ever gave people like that the power to decide whether I'm honest with my expressions or not. And I'm sad that this still has a hold of both of us. The grip of judgment. The fear of dis... is it disapproval? I mean, they'd have to actually engage in it to truthfully dismiss something. Ignorance? Closed-mindedness? That kinda thing?
I'm kinda getting to the point where I'm done just like... not doing things I love. Creating memories I love. Living a life that I look back on in 5 years and go "man, I'm so glad I decided to do that with my time." That's a big part of this journal. I've been thinking I should just say fuck it and do a book at some point. In this style. Because man can I write a fucking lot. I just really need to do typing exercises because this whole hunt-and-pecking with my right hand PC gaming thing combined with using the right trigger on Xbox controller a lot in Session is kinda fuckin up my forearm again.
Man I just ADD'd off that sentiment real hard and want to go back full circle on it one mo' 'gain...
I'm tired of the judgement of bitter people. I'm tired of not living the life I deserve, because others are not willing to pay the cost that I have to live that life themselves. Instead, they want me to have paid the cost... and then quit. Or never start. Whether it's a single project or a career path (oddly more the latter), peers from walks of life that tend to lean into the realm of... shame and regret dominant... have a tendency to try to peer pressure you out of living the life that would make you blissful. They will tell you "you can't play video games for a living, that's not a real job." They will tell you "you can't design video games for a living, that's not a real job." They will even stretch to say "you can't sell video games for a living, that's not a real job." Every single one of these is false. If you are out there and are a creative... well, not exclusively, but especially... please listen to this. If you just make cool Christmas ornaments out of cut yogurt lids, and only do it because you did as a kid and you really liked it... you can do that for a living. You just need to figure out a way. And you need to make sure you're around people who also say "fuck yeah, those ornaments are sick, I have no idea how you got so good at making them, I can't wait to see the next one." Fans. Real ones. I honestly believe that is all you need for success. Passion. Devotion. A willingness to learn, grow and improve every day. A healthy social network. That's it. I truly believe that.
So as I once again look over at the blackout curtains and see the midnight blue but also kinda slate grey and a little green... of dawn, I get the reflex to wrap this up. Still not really feeling... I don't know. I just have a push away from going to sleep at like 2. It's odd honestly. I think it's just not wanting to be alone and asleep for that many hours in darkness. The only light in my house right now is my laptop. Hmm... maybe if I put on the dim moonlike salt lamp on the other side of the room, maybe that would help me sleep better? Ooooo here's a thought... maybe I could get a dark blue sheet and mimic dawn light on the salt lamp... That could be interesting. I'll see if I can get to bed tomorrow a bit earlier and try that. Fat chance, but hey, I can dream!
I was gonna say... we'll see what tomorrow brings... like kinda groaning or whatever. Fuck that. I'll find that shit out tomorrow. For now, I'm gonna just try to sit content with this moment. That life works in very mysterious ways, and it's been a long and crazy rollercoaster of trauma to get here... and, as with all things, it may even just be momentary - gotta let my heart and stomach drop for a bit to really be... real on this one. Not in a pessimistic way, I'm really trying not to lean into that. But... to allow the pessimistic perspective a voice, and allow myself a momentary emotional preparation, a practice run, in a way. Like... this is a possible outcome. Like flipping a tarot card. The choices of both myself and my brother will decide what this becomes. And whatever we mutually choose, I'm very glad for it. Life is too amazing to spend alone.
The thought I wanted to finish from the last paragraph was "it's been a long rollercoaster of trauma to get here." I wanted to make sure it was added - because the thought got away from me before I could write it - "and it's a shame it was necessary to turn us into the odd, artsy, wise weirdos we are today." It's a shame that creation comes from devastation. Inspiration from destruction. But the growth has been very visibly profound. What used to be a gaping wound is no longer as raw, but also not rough, calloused and scarred over. The flesh has reformed with a higher level of complexity. Not just bigger and rougher. But grown back with better systems, upgrades, lessons learned and new tools to experience existence fuller. Like that big emotional wound was like an opportunity to do a full system upgrade, since we're restarting the computer anyway. Like when Windows asks you if you want to Update & Shut Down. That shit. But with your personality. And you get to choose the updates. Pretty sick analogy, it works pretty well. THAT. Right there. That I like to think of as rebirth. Resurrection. And, with a new life, of course... comes death. Death of the old you. Like moving to a new house is the death of the age of the old house. Such a powerfully traumatic event (both positive[additive/gain] and negative[subtractive/loss] trauma) can be, and very often is, the forced birth of a new You. If you get in one of those any time soon, I highly advise taking the opportunity to review your highlight reel of the different people you've been. A child, an adolescent, a teen, a young adult - you at work, you at school, you at home, you with your friends. You that played guitar on stage, you that was on the soccer team. Remember all of your greatest hits personas. And bring em all with you. The bad ones? The bad spirits? The crotchety guy who was so depressed he couldn't get off the couch and just turned it into bitter resentment towards the world, towards life itself, like getting emotionally clogged and something's rotting inside him? How the fuck do we bring those with us? How do we willfully bring those into our new incarnations? Well... I think they have some redeeming qualities within. It's the only way I live with them, so maybe watching a ton of horror movies as a younger man helped me understand that a bit better. There is always a redeeming quality in all of them, and the remainder is a constant reminder of why we currently choose not to act like that. Why we choose to not look at life in such a powerless and submissive way, only taking action to express our frustrations and outrage. Why we choose now to try to be deliberate and thoughtful in our actions, and act with the best interest of all first. When we don't get too backed up in a corner, that is... I mean... we are all human, after all, right? How do we bring the spirits with us? We remind ourselves that even our shameful parts are part of us, and they need to be, lest we not learn our lessons and unwittingly repeat history.
That was a big paragraph. I sometimes add formatting breaks when I'm listening to this back before posting. I don't think I'll do that this time. I think it shows very visually how stimulated my brain and active my thought patterns were right there. That's been happening a lot lately. It's very great for brainstorming and creative projects, writing, but... not so much for going to sleep.
Before going - I just took more tincture because screw it - I wanted to share a new practice I started last night. I want to be more deliberate with my dreamwork. In the time before I fall asleep, I usually either let my brain ramble until I nod off or try to focus on physical sensations or see what weird patterns my brain is painting on the back of my eyelids. I've started trying to create an imaginary zen garden in my mind's eye. A place that I can go to as I fall asleep, like a... splash screen on a game or something. Like splash art on a loading screen when you're loading into a game. A little lobby to play around in and explore while my body goes into hibernation mode and we shift into dream mode. And I have a feeling that the more I visit this place, the more it will take shape. The more I will become familiar with different features, which I can of course alter as I see fit. Like a Minecraft server or something. The OG Minecraft server, the one in your imagination! I'm excited about this idea, and you know what, once I get really familiar with it... maybe I'll paint it.
Or better yet... maybe I'll 3D model it in Blender. Then I can just get started making another one... God damn, if this works, this is gonna be really cool. At least to me... XD
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Not dead yet!: Marking my 2-year anniversaries
On Sunday I marked my two-year “cancerversary” of my diagnosis and on Tuesday a member of the support group I co-founded (for young women who are stage 4) died. Like me, she had triple-negative breast cancer. Like me, she was diagnosed stage 4 two years ago. Like me, she had exhausted several types of treatment (because triple-negative is a beast) and was looking for the one that would work. She asked me about Saci (Sassy!) and proposed trying it to her doctor less than a week before she died. Nine days before she passed she joined our Sunday cancer yoga group from bed at the hospital to join our meditation exercises. Like me, she remained confident and positive and absolutely refused to give up hope. (Like me, she also wore her hair purple sometimes.)
There were many things that are unlike about us too. She had two teenage children who now don’t have their mother. She was twelve years older than me and had had Hodgkin’s before she had breast cancer--even worse luck than mine, to triumph over one cancer only to get this diagnosis. Unlike me, she wasn’t strong enough for Saci, the only targeted triple-negative line of treatment, because her body had reacted badly to immunotherapy. She was in the hospital for two weeks with somewhat mysterious symptoms all of which added up to her body shutting down. On Saturday she went home with her family in hospice care. 2 days later she was gone.
It’s not usual for things to go so fast. Typically, doctors, patients, and family members all have some advance warning and patients spend a solid amount of time in hospice care. I am sure that people will ask me why it went that way for her. I’m asking myself why too, since it is so shocking and so entirely unfair. The fact that it can happen that way at all is frightening to me as a fellow patient since it’s the scenario of nightmares. That really could someday be me. No one ever wants to think that--and I cannot live my life focused on it either--but it has to be acknowledged as a possibility.
[More below the cut about memories from 2 years ago today and hopes for the future. Also, an invitation to contribute to some writing if you want.]
Today, January 28th, is the 2-year anniversary of my stage 4 diagnosis. In a way, it feels more significant than my initial cancer news. I had four days being horrified, but thinking that I would get through this as a phase in my life. It would be terrible--I’d have a double mastectomy, scorched-earth chemo, radiation, anything to get rid of the cancer--but then it would be done. On the Monday following my first set of CT scans I learned that that was not true. My lungs were full of tumors. (Later, after lots of waiting, MRIs and biopsies, I'd find that my lymph nodes, spine, and liver were affected too. I still have tumors in all those locations, but no new ones.) I wrote a description of getting that news in an email to a friend over the summer, after I had read Anne Boyer’s "The Undying”:
“The worst part about the lung tumors for me was that my dad had gotten a very early flight and I learned the news while he was in the air. My mom told me we could not text or tell him on the phone, that he would need to be with us both. So I drove to Newark straight from the doctor's office. It was in the teens outside and windy as we slogged to the baggage area where we were to meet. I saw my dad in his warmest and ugliest puffy orange down jacket, looking small in it, forlorn and horribly vulnerable. I fell into his arms, thinking at least that airports were such horrible places, so impersonal and banal, that no one would look twice. 'It's in my lungs,' I said into his shoulder so that I would not have to see his face. I was crying into the jacket that somehow smelled of winter cold even though he had been inside for hours. 'Please, Daddy. Fix it, please.' I spoke like a child because, on some very deep level, I think I really did still believe that my father could fix anything. I was embarrassed, though, and so I tried to stem my tears as he put his big hand on the back of my head and said, 'Oh sweetie, we'll get through this. We will.' I knew that really he could do nothing--and that this was his nightmare of powerlessness--and so I sniffed and blinked and I did not let myself cry again until June.”
Two years later this moment seems as if it just happened. The impact of my diagnosis on everyone dear to me, and especially my parents, is one of the worst things about it for me. We all know that there’s only so much “better” I can get, with the current science, and we’re all playing for time while the research moves forward towards something better, something that would make this a treatable chronic condition. I go back and forth, emotionally, on how likely I think that is and how good my position is for the future. Right now, comparing myself to the group member who died, I feel relatively fortunate, even as chemo exhausts me, I lose every scrap of hair that was ever on my body, and I spend half of my days being almost unable to eat from nausea and loss of taste. I feel glad that I was able to get Saci, that my body has so far stood up to the ceaseless trials I have put it through, with four treatments and surgery (and full-time work and living alone etc. etc.). I feel strong, not scared, even as I feel the emotional toll of terrible loneliness from covid isolation, winter, and carrying a sick body through my days alone.
I do not love the “fight” metaphor because so much of having an illness is completely out of your control and I never want to take myself (or anyone else) to task for “losing.” And so instead I will praise my body for enduring. I will praise myself for my enduring also, in both an emotional and physical way. I checked back in on how I was feeling as this anniversary approached last year and was pleased to see how much better I feel about it now, partly as a function of being in a treatment that is (likely) keeping me stable rather than in the midst of choosing another new one. Here is what I wrote back to my group of friends in November 2019, the run up to the one-year mark:
“I’m feeling like I can’t plan and don’t want to celebrate, like I can’t perform “fine” for the people in my life to spare them from the pain I’m causing by not doing better and feeling horrible about it. Perhaps it would help if I let them know that they didn’t need to perform “fine” for me? I understand the desire to protect me from the obligation to take care of them and appreciate it. But sometimes it can feel like I’m the only one experiencing anger or grief or pain, though I know I’m not. Feeling so isolated in my emotional response provides no catharsis for it. Compassion and sympathy function on the notion of “fellow feeling.” If you’re just out here, feeling by yourself, you can’t expect any comfort. As always, I think of the moment in the Iliad when Priam and Achilles cry together over dead Hector. Grief (and you can grieve for many things aside from a death) is something explicitly to be shared.” So I guess I’ve shared it here. I can do that. And I can do another thing, which is to tell you I love you. People don’t really say it enough and reserve it too entirely for romantic contexts. It’s weird--it’s not like we are wartime rationing love! And every time anyone says it to me it helps. It’s an affirmation that I am integral in some way to people’s lives which, in a society that so greatly valorizes marriage/partnership and children, is something I can be in doubt about.”
There are some things I like here, though, and that I would now like to reiterate and invite you, my far-flung friends, to do for my 2-year milestone. Never has the notion of “fellow feeling” in times of grief and depression hit harder or been more important than during covid. In a way, the nation (or even world) was forced into much the same position, emotionally and practically, that my cancer put me in. People are isolated, unable to perform “fine” and wondering if other people feel the same way, or even if any of us can take care of each other at all. I am here to tell you that you can. Maybe not immediately but--sooner than you think--you can. Emotional reserves may be low but reaching out to support someone else can actually replenish them. You do not have to feel alone, or to feel, alone.
And for me, for this milestone and for the cancer-related depression that I certainly do have, I’d like to invite you to help me, so that I can do the same for you. I invite you to write something about how this milestone feels for you (either about me or not), how it relates to all the other insane things going on in the world or with you (not about me at all), how you felt on the original day when I shared my stage 4 diagnosis (definitely about me)--really anything that is on your mind or in your heart.
“Oh great,” you may think, “the English PhD has asked us to do homework!”. But no! It's up to you what you do. Write in whatever form you want, however long, even anonymously. And if you do I will write you back! Not with grades or comments, but with something to connect to what you shared. It is a way to create fellow-feeling; to open up, connect, heal. With me, yes, but also as the group of extraordinary people who have gone with me so far on this hard road. It’s a very different proposition to support someone through time-limited treatment with a good outcome than it is to sign on for whatever comes next. You are all, truly, pretty extraordinary.
Anyone who wants to send a note or reflection can email me or drop a file or post in this Google drive folder. Like I said, feel free to share whatever and do it anonymously if you’d rather. You can also askbox me here (better than DMS) or submit a post to this blog. (I'm taking a chance with open DMs for now...we'll see if that needs to change.)
I am grateful for all of you every day, but especially today.
Love, Bex
p.s. The title of this post refers to the cinematic classic "Monty Python and the Holy Grail," a film my high school self and friends loved. They, along with other wonderful folks. gave me a "cancerversary" cake with "Not dead yet, motherfucker!" on it this Sunday. p.p.s. The average life expectancy for people who get this diagnosis is 18 months to 3 years. Hitting 5 years would be extraordinary. Starting Year 3 is a huge deal and I have every intention of being extraordinary. (Never been average at anything in my life...I either succeed spectacularly or fail epically!)
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knight-queen · 4 years
Text
𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐤 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐘𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐌𝐮𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐋𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 – (𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭)
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[Chapter O2]  [Chapter O3]  [Chapter O4]  [Final]
Main CG used in this Route -
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Yui: (I must have to get back my heart….!) 
Place:  山中 / Mountain / Yamanaka
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Yui: (I must have to get back my heart….!)
Yuma: From now on, we gotta solve this problem, huh?
Yui: Sorry...Yuma kun.
Yuma: Haa? Why are ya’ saying that? The person called Earl or whatever, it’s all his fault, right!?
Don’t make such a annoyin’ face! C’mmon! La-u-gh?
*Yuma gets closer*
Yui: Ouch...I-it hurts…!
(I think he puts all his strength into stressing my face.)
Yuma: Hee? That face was also good...ha-haha!
Yui: Laughing like this….it’s not fair!
*Yuma backs off*
Yui: (By the way, what should we do from now on)
(I think I saw something in the dream...Maybe I can figure out something if I think about that.)
Yuma: ……..*Sighs*
Yui: (Why is he looking at me putting on such a scary face…?)
Yuma: Making such a stupid face for a while, I am saying that everything’s gonna be fine! HUH?
Yui: You are wrong...It’s not something like that…
Yuma: I am saying it, which means I am correct!
Yuma: Haa...Looks like I have to make you understand it thoroughly….haa!!
*Yuma hugs Yui*
Yui: Kyaa!
(He’s hugging me out of nowhere…!?)
Yuma: Don’t be so dumb. It doesn’t matter where we go so, hold onto me tightly!
Yui: Eh?! Gh! Kyaaaa!!
*They are flying*
*Sound of Wind*
*Screen black / Yui closes her eyes*
Yui: (This feeling...Could it be that we are…!)
*Opens her eyes / screen comes back*
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Yui: (Flying…?)
(We’re just going up and up! At this rate, it looks like we will reach the Moon...!)
Yuma: Kuku! Make sure that you hold me tightly!
Yui: You have suddenly started to fly! I was scared, y’know?
Yuma: Even if I wouldn’t fly suddenly, you would be scared to fly anyway.
Yui: That’s true though…
Yuma: So? Can’t you think of anything other than scaring?
Yui: Eh?
Yuma: For example, shooting stars or the lights of the parade venue. What about those?
Yui: Yes, they are beautiful…
(I am seeing colorful lights far below...ah, there is an amusement park over there. That wagon is selling something, I think?)
(That was the parade venue from the earlier, right? It’s very lively and pretty.)
Yuma: No-w, where shall we get started? What ‘bout starting from attractive places all the way through?
Yui: Eh?
Yuma: Ruki said it, right? Earl Walter can be anywhere that we don’t even know.
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If that’s so, that we should use our feet for searching without thinking about anything!
I think it’s best to ask people here about this world. There may be other information out there ‘bout being stolen of your heart.
((A quick reminder that Yuma is extremely rude, and I am trying my best to translate in his type language. But he is always RUDE! He is not formal at all))
Yui: (Definitely…)
Yuma: That’s why, let’s play & have fun while collecting the information!!
Ah! That amusement park will be a perfect place! We are gonna’ ride every single one!
Yui: Y-yeah…
(Looks like his main intention is to have fun rather than searching for information.)
(I also want us to have fun together, but…)
Ne~ Yuma Kun.
Yuma: Aah?
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Yui: If I don’t get back my heart...I will end up dying, right.
It would also work if I don’t have this body...but that’s…
(It’s difficult to have fun while holding these feelings.)
Yuma: Oi, haven’t you noticed anything. I am not planning to have fun around by throwing out your main problems.
Yui: Eh?
Yuma: Tch! You are very poor at guessing!
I haven’t gotten any other choice but to yield, I guess?
It’s obvious to get depressed at the same time, but even if we don’t have fun, you’re gonn’ be anxious anyway.
That’s why I’m sayin’ that I am gonna make your face unconcerned just like I have!
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Yui: (Yuma Kun is...thinking about me.) *Blushing*
(Yet, I was just concerned about me.)
I am really sorry...I wasn’t planning to doubt you or something…
I was just feeling washed away...I didn’t even watch my own words...as a result I ended up being teased by you
Yuma: Exactly.
Yui: (I was so depressed lately. I haven't fixed it. First of all, let’s keep in mind that I have to make myself cheerful.)
(Alright, beware of your smile...)
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Yui: Yuma Kun! Can I company you?
Yuma: ….!?...
Yui: Yuma Kun?
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Yuma: You, making such a face….damn! Don’t say cute things! *Blushing*
Yui: Eh? Ah…!
*Yuma undresses Yui*
Yui: (He embraced me, he’s digging fangs in my neck….!)
Yuma: Don’t think that I’ll stop if you say ‘sorry.’ Give me a thank you using your feelings. 
If I bite ‘ere, then those vampires won’t bother me.
Yui: (Could it be that, he was planning to fly for this….from the beginning…!)
Yuma: At first, I’ll do it from here….nh…*Licks*
Yui: Don’t…! *Blushing*
Yuma: Your makin’ such a face before I even dig my fangs. Don’t you still have some hope…!! (( He has used 期待 -> means hope or expectation.))
Yui: Please...don’t…!
*Sound of shooting magic*
Yuma: Hm? I have heard somethin’...HAAA!?
Yui: Eh?
(A black object is approaching this way!)
*Another sound*
Yui: (What a speed...we are going to collide!)
Yuma: A meteorite!? Why is coming straight towards us! Tch, as this rate —
*Another sound*
Yui: (We’ll get hit…!)
Yuma: Can y’ easily bum ito us...Aaaa!!
*Yuma aparts from Yui*
Yui: Ah!
(I am separated from Yuma Kun…!?)
Yuma: Yui!!
Yui: Kyaaa!
*Sounds of wind*
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Yuma: *Unclear Voice*  Ugh! Extend your hand!
Yui: …!
(Can’t, my hand can’t reach him…!)
Yuma: Guh!...Damn! You’ll…!
Yui: (I will?...Die...I thought it’s gonna be positive with me….but)
*Screen black / closes her eyes*
(I am sorry Yuma Kun)
Yui: …..nh?
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(—What...This touch...it is very soft….and sweet smell.)
Yuma: No good, I can’t control this speed!!!
UWAAAAAAA— —!!!!!!??
Yui: Nh!? Yuma kun!
Yuma: Ugh...what’s this...it’s hurting and...ugh…
Oi, can you move?
Yui: It’s… kinda impossible….
Yuma: Haa? What should I do then?
So, where’re we? I’know it's a parade venue, but...I can’t see anything like that.
Yui: You are right….
(It's a very noticeable place…)
Clown D: Haa...I was going to finish up today’s work. Are you guys substituting my candles or what?
Yui: Candles? Umm...what you mean —
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Clown D: Oh my, oh my. You guys are festiving too much in the name of parade~
Yuma: Isn't it weird to hear something like this from a clown?
Clown D: It’s not weird~good grief! You are really a hopeless couple. Here, I will help you, gimme your hand.
Yuma: Yea, counting on ya’.
Yui: Thank you so much…
Place: サントノレパーク通り /  Saint Honoré Park Street
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Yuma: Ha— we had face somethin’ awful!
Yui: (I am glad that everything was okay, but...)
(No way, it’s more likely to break a giant cake of the parade celebration.)
We are really really sorry.
Clown D: A—….It’s okay, it’s okay! I’d like to say...nope, I give up~
I will make it over again. Even though I’ve made the cake with great efforts, y’know~!
Yuma: Haa? It was you who cooked, huh? You have a great taste!
Clown D: Eh, Really!! Even though it’s not true, that makes me so happy!! But, A—aah~
Yui: (He’s feeling so down. I am sure that he was preparing that taking a long time…)
(A lot of people will be gathering here. If we don’t cooperate, he may not be able to finish making such a big cake….)
Umm…
Clown D: Hm? What is it?
Yui: I don’t know whether you’ll be able to make a gorgeous cake or not, but, we will compensate for you!
Yuma: Haaa—?
Yui: Because, it was all our fault after all. We must have to do something.
Yuma: I’know what you mean... but how can we compensate somethin’ like this?
Yui: That’s—…
(There should be a way…)
...Sorry, I can’t think of it right away.
Yuma: Anyway, my whole body is sticky and sticky for the cream, it’s unpleasant.
Sorry but I'm someone who’ll get tension for this, right?
Since it’s a parade, I am looking like a display object or something like that….Let’s go for the bath right away.
Clown D: Saying this means you’re planning NOT to come back, right~?
Yuma: Well, if I would be the only then I wouldn’t come back. But, if I do so, this good-person won’t forgive me.
Yui: Listen...Of course we will come back! We will absolutely pay back your debt, so please trust us!!
Clown D: Let’s see...— Um...I don’t have faith in this big brother, but I can trust this big sister!
Yuma: Aaa—? Tch!
Yui: Thanks a lot! By the way, would you mind telling us where we can have a shower….?
Clown D: I’ll lead you to a familiar hotel. If you like then, I may give you the tickets!
Yui: Eh, is that okay…?
Yuma: Is that ‘cuz there’s an acquaintance there and you keep an eye on us so that we won’t run away?
Clown D: Listen—…!
Yui: (But that way, we also can proof that we keep our promise, right?)
Yui: I got your point. Of Course we’ll come back. We were really sorry.
Clown D: Well—That wasn’t my intention. First, I will say that, don’t be slow~
Yuma: Got it. Let’s go then.
Yui: Yeah.
Place: ホテル・モーントシュタイン  バスルーム / Bathroom of Mortstein Hotel
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*Without dress*
Yui: (Phew….)
(Nevertheless, we completely spoiled the cake…)
(I did something like this in a dream when I was a kid. I think I wasn’t happy at all for doing that...)
(Anyway, it’s Yuma Kun’s turn now)
*Turns off the shower*
*Puts on dresses*
Yui: (Okay, all I have to do is to just fix my fair. Shall I call him out?)
Yuma Kun, thank you for waiting. I am coming out, just a little, okay?
*Yuma opens the door*
Yui: Wah?
Yuma: I’m tired of waiting — Haa! How annoyin’. These clothes’re stuck with me.
gh...ugh...—I still can’t take these off...guh… *trying to take off*
*He takes off his clothes*
Yui: —! Kyaa!
Yuma: Aa? Shut up, why screaming, huh?
Yui: *Blushing* Wa-wait! Let me move backwards!!
Yuma: Why are y’ being damn noisy. Y’can move anywhere so be quiet!
*Yuma turns on the shower*
Yui: Uuh— I wiped my hair perfectly... I must get out…!
Yuma: ...Nh...What the hell is this, such a sticky! ...—Oi!
I can’t remove dirt from my hair, you gotta help me!
Yui: Eeh! But…
Yuma: I wrap a towel ‘cuz you’re such a noise! Hurry up and help!
Yui: (If it’s so...then I may lay him a hand.) *Blushing*
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(To tell the truth, he had fallen down in the cake to protect me, right?)
*Turns into CG*
Yuma: —Ah...by the way, wash more gently there, and also the right side…
Yui: *Nod*
(Uu—It’s embarrassing….I must not look at him….)
Yuma: ...—What it could be that was hittin’ us during flyin’ in the sky.
Is that a meteorite?
Yui: May be...A—
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Yuma: Uwa—Oi! Are you blind or what? Watch carefully!
Yui: Ah! Sorry!
Yuma: Whatta pain! Are you embarrassed for that! Usually, you used to be more close to me, right!
Just—like this!
*CG turns where Yuma’s sucking*
Yui: Kyaa!!
Yuma: It reminds me that I couldn’t suck during flying...kuku~ I’m gonn’ get it back!
….—Nh…..hn…*sucking*
Yui: Ah…
(His fangs are digged deeper….!)
Yuma: Kuku...Such a good face. Lemme taste it more.
Nh—...ha...nh…
Yui: (No...I am losing my strength…)
Yuma: Like always….your are having a sloppy face….hah….lean on me.
Yui: Ah...—Yuma kun,....I can’t—
(Even though I was done with bathing….I am feeling dizzy.)
Yuma: What now? Do you want me to suck from here? I’ll do it.
Haha, dropping tears...all I see is that you just want me to continue.
Raise your face…
Yui: Uh—…
(If he still continues….I will lose consciousness…)
Yuma: Nh…*Kiss*
Yui: (Lips...he didn’t...bite?...)
nh...Yuma Kun…?
Yuma: I am glad that you didn’t die…
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Yui: Eh…?
Yuma: It’s nothing. C’mmon give me more. These blood’re just coming out. I won’t waste it.
Until I am satisfied...I won’t let y’ go...nh...nh...mn..
Yui: (Enough already...at this rate…!)
Stop...we have to go back to the plaza. We promised to Clown San…!
Yuma: Aaa?
Yui: (If he still continues sucking, we can’t keep our promise. I can’t allow something like that...!)
*Yui moved back*
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Yuma: Aah? Wait!
Place: ホテル・モーントシュタイン  客室 / Guest Room of Mortstein Hotel
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Yui: (I’m sorry for Yuma Kun, but it’s good that I managed to escape somehow. I must go back to that place, as soon as I can!)
Yuma: ….Oi! What’re you actually planning to do somethn’ for that big cake?
Yui: It’s obvious! It was your fault....If you wouldn’t fly then, we won’t have deal with something like this.)
Yuma: Aaa? It was those meteorites’ fault! You were expecting my fangs, didn’t you?
Yui: I didn’t! By the way, let’s go back to that place.
Yuma: Even if you say that. You’ve almost forgotten your most important work.
Yui: Eh?
Yuma: To remake such a big cake, how can you buy such an amount of time?
If you do it, then we may lose your heart!
Yui: Ah…
Yuma: Your face’s telling that you’ve completely forgotten...hah, as I thought, you should just lie ‘bout it.
Yui: *Nod* I can’t. When I imagine people’s sad faces out there, I just can’t do something like that.
(If we escape away, then I am sure that we’ll regret it later. More than that, I don’t want others to be disappointed.)
Yuma: Well, it’s true that I also did something horrible.
Yui: Please Yuma Kun, let’s go there together?
Yuma: It can't be helped. Then hurry up and finish making that cake.
Yui: Really?
Yuma: I can’t hear if you’re sayin’ something. ….That kind of attitude of you still hasn’t washed away, this stubbornness.
Yui: Not really. It’s very normal. 
Yuma: No, you are not normal. Hehe, you easily get swept away by the things that make you feel good.
Yui: —No, you are wrong!
Yuma: Hehe, you are red all the way to the neck.
Yui: (—! There are many things to say, but...it’s good that he accepted my favour.)
Place: サントノレパーク通り / Saint Honoré Park Street
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Yui: (There’s a lot of traffic. People walking in the road also disguised themselves to have fun.)
Yuma: Oi...Don’t get lost from me.
Yui: Yes, Ne~ Yuma Kun. Did you remember about the carnival that we visited before?
Yuma: Huh? Very strange situation. It also remembered that. ...However, the situation right now is completely different from that.
Yui: Eh?
Yuma: At that time, it was a problem when those vampires got addicted to your blood, right?
Yui: If it’s so, then it’s completely different now.
(A human like me....no one is noticing me, even if I walk around them...It was a little mystery…)
Yuma: Perhaps….since your heartś replaced with a stone.
Yui: (I see...Earl has replaced my heart with a gem. For this, they are thinking that I am not a human, may be itś the reason for that…)
Ne, did the taste of my blood change?
Yuma: Haa...you’re looking so serious. Are you worrying ´bout it?
Yui: Huh?
Yuma: You said that you won´t feel comfortable like in the past, kukuh! Are you disappointed?
Yui: Itś not something like that…!
Yuma: Aah? It’s a bull’s eye y’know? But, don´t be worried. I don’t care ´bout taste or something like that.
For me, to make you feel better is more important than suking your blood after all, kukuh
Yui: Enough-...!
*Blushing* (Saying something like that...may me that’s a part of his kindness…)
(As I thought, I have to get back the heart as soon as possible.)
*After a while*
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Yui: Ah, Clown San!
Clown D: Oh, you two huh~ Good to see that you come back after all~
Yuma: That was obvious. So? Did you make that cake?
Clown D: No way! I am just a clown out here, so I can´t make something like that~
Yui: You made it then?
Clown D: It’s a sweet shop-keeper~!
Yuma: What about getting that guy to make the cake over again?
Yui: Yuma Kun, it’s not fair to say something like this.
Yuma: Aah? But it's impossible to make it for an ordinary person, right?
Yui: That’s true, but…
Clown D: At first, go there and tell that ¨ I am sorry.¨ Spoiling such a huge cake, I can´t say something from my position, yḱnow~
Yui: Okay, we are going to apologize.
Yuma: Letś make it.
Clown D: I don't know whether it goes that easily, but good luck~!
Place: ザフィーア 菓子店 / The fear confectionery shop
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Yui: (Waah! The sweets are lined up! How cute…!
(There’s also something called eat-in.)
Yuma: Oi! We haven't come here to eat sweets or something!
Yui: Umm...excuse me. I have heard that hereś the person who had made a giant cake in the plaza.
‘The fear’ store’s manager: Aah! That was my self-confidence work! That was a very splendid cake, right?
Yui: Aah...yes…
(Uuh, itś hard to cut out this topic…)
Yuma: Yup, that was tasty. The sweetness level was perfect.
‘The fear’ store’s manager: Aah, I am so glad to hear that! Come to think of it, who are you? How do you know the taste of that cake?
Yuma: Haa? By eating, ofcourse.
‘The fear’ store’s manager: Eeeeh!!??
Yui: That’s...many things happened and as a result, we broke that cake. We are really sorry!
‘The fear’ store’s manager:  Wawawa - What did you just say!? You broke that cake! That cake was specially made for the parade!
Do-do-do...Do you even know how much materials and time I had to spenk for that!!!! I won´t easily...forgive you!!
Yuma: Shouting like this, itś useless now to get angry for that.
‘The fear’ store’s manager:   What’s up with that attitude! You have broken my masterpiece cake...how terrible...uuuh!!
*The manager collapsed*
The fear confectionary assistant: Manager! Please hold on!!
Yui: Manager!?
The fear confectionary assistant:  Haah...first of all, I will listen to your conversation. Please continue if from the very first.
Place: ザフィーア 菓子店   厨房 / The fear confectionery shop, kitchen 
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Yui: (Waah! The smell is very sweet. Thereŕe a lot of designers here! Everyone looks so busy…)
The fear confectionary assistant: Until recently, every members were just focusing on making a huge cake.
fear confectionery assistant: It has such a big size, so itś very didfficult to to arrange the materials, to bake and even to decorate…
This is why...when the cake was done, we were so happy that we held our hands in hands together.
Yui: Is that so...umm...we are really sorry.
Yuma: ….But, the paradeś is still continuing, right? That open place won look good if thereś no cake out there.
The fear confectionary assistant: We are getting so much advertisement from our customers...I want to do something.
Yuma: So, let’s start making the cake. Looks like a lot of workers are here. I am somehow excited.
Yui: Um..we will also help you out since we will pay your debt!
The fear confectionary assistant: Before the manager gives us the permission, I can make sure that we will be able to gather necessary ingredients.
Yuma: Haa? Are y'all gonn´ use rare ingredients or something? 
The fear confectionary assistant: It’s not like that. We are in the middle of the parade, so sugars won´t be available everywhere, and it will be harder to get.
When the sugar of our shop was out of stock, we were about to close the shop…
Yui: That’s…
The fear confectionary assistant: Did you notice that there are so many street halls, itś very unusual. There are so many…
Yuma: Well, I don´t get it well, but there's no other problem if you get the sugars, right?
The fear confectionary assistant: Yes...Flour, eggs and raw cream are still affordable.
Yui: (Sugar...I have no idea how much sugar we should get, but...we can´t give up.
We will manage the sugar but please make that big cake one more time!
Yuma: Haaa….
Yui: Please!
The fear confectionary assistant: Understood...I will pass your words to the manager. I am also requesting you to get the sugar.
Yui: Yes!!
Place: グリンマーストリート  表通り/ Glimmer Street, Main street
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Yui: (Even though she told me the amount of sugar I have to get...but I didn’t imagine that they’re gonna need such a huge amount…)
Yuma: *Sighs* … … …
Yui: (He is being irritated for searching. Of Course the necessary amount of sugar is something to be shocked.)
Yuma: You! Y’re a completely stupid! Lastly ending up asking the necessary amount of sugar...what have you done, haa!?
Yui: Anyway, I want us to try out searchi individually  where sugar is available
Yuma: Haa? If we search individually, then the parade is gonn’ be over! Let’s steal those  from somewhere!
Yui: We can’t steal! We have to explain our situation and ask others!
Yuma: Damn! Y’ come up with such a lame idea!
Yui: I am sorry...
Yuma: We gotta finish up dealing with this. So? Where should we get started?
Yui: (Where should I say...)
SELECTION ー
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Sugar House (Correct +)
Sugar making factory
Yui: What about Sugar House? Since it’s right over there, I am pretty much sure that there’s a lot of sugar stocked.
Yuma: Hehe, it sounds like a simple step.
But, those are very rare...don’t you think it will be a waste to ask them mashed sugars as they put such an effort?
Yui: You are right...maybe we should try going there...they will probably gonna distribute the unmashed sugars…
Yuma: Well, there may be restricted sugar which’s specially produced for parade.  ‘Kay, let’s go!
Yui: Mhm
Place: グリンマーストリート 表通りワゴン前 / Glimmer Main Street Wagon Street
Yui: (Phew...they didn’t understand our excuses pretty well, but they distributed sugars to us one by one.)
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(People of this demon world are unexpectedly nice with me...may be because my heart is now a gem.)
(More importantly, Yuma Kun also helped me out...I also gotta do my best!)
Yuma: What’ are ya’ barging about, Sow? Watching me sweating while pulling the rear car, it’s funny to see, haa?
Yui: Y-you are wrong! I was about to thank you…
Looks like we are about to gather our target amount of sugar. Umm...next up isー
*Something sounds like wheel blusted*
Yui: (Hm? What’s this sound…)
Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: Aaah, that’s weird. I heard that it will get fixed by hitting, but I am not sure it will end up working or not…
Yui: “Cotton Candy”...I didn’t assume that there are such stores in the parade.
Yuma: This trouble...looks like I’m not the only one who’s experienced it.
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Yui: Mhm…
Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: Oh, customers? I am really sorry for this...I am going to repair it right now.
Yui: Not really...Are you fine with it. We can help if you would like to.
Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: Oh, really? Thank you!
I heard how to fix it when I got this machine...but it’s making me scared now…
Yuma: Ah….As I thought, I know how to fix that.
Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: Eh!? Is that so? Can you help me out, brother?
Yuma: Kuku~ Leave it to me ….Haah!! 
*Yuma hitted the Machine*
*A huge sound of being damaged*
Yui: (This sound...could it be…!)
(Oh no...cotton candies just bounced and popped out from there…!)
Yuma: Ugh...Oi! Pick those up before more of those come out!
Yui: On it!
(He got such strength....anyway, let’s pick these up as much as possible!)
*After a they are done with picking candies*
*Repairing sound*
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Yui: ….Hah..ha...Yuma Kun...I have reached my limit…!
Yuma: Tch! Get fixed already!!
*Yuma hitted machine more time*
Yui: Ah...looks like we did….
Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: Oh, looks like we’re done with repairing...Thank you so much!
Yuma: Np, I just hitted, that was all. Is that ‘kay?
Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: Fufu~ It was a great help. Take my cotton candies as a gift.
Yuma: That’s fine though, but if possible, we would like to have sugars.
Yui: For many reasons, we must have to gather some sugars...Please, can you accept this request?
Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: But...due to this circumstance, if I finish up using my extra sugars, then it will get tough to recover the crisis...
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Yuma: Oi! Who do you think you get rescued from this circumstance? If you’re grateful, then give those!!
Yui: Yuma Kun, dont! We are so sorry for being rude.
Yuma: You!
Yui: I didn’t really intend to help for getting thanks or something. It was just about hitting afterall.
Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: I’m really sorry…
Yuma: ...ugh...Let’s go.
Yui: (It’s good that I convinced him. Now, let’s regain our mind, and go for the next step.)
Place: ザフィーア 菓子店   厨房 / The fear confectionery shop, kitchen 
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Yui: (After all...we couldn’t gather the perfect amount..)
(But, we must do something...I should try out by requesting them)
‘The fear’ shop’s manager: I refuse!! I won’t make the cake unless I get the necessary amount of sugar, I told you, didn’t I?!!
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Yuma: THIS - IS- WHY Make something using these, even though a small one!
The fear shop’s manager: No-no-n-n-n-o-! Stop speaking cocky despite being a lay, ‘cuz it’s just… The things can’t be done, means can’t be done!
Yui: Calm down Yuma Kun...But we still managed some sugars, right? Can’t you even barely make one?
The fear confectionary assistant: I know your feelings, but it’s still not quite yet.
Yui: But somehow…
*Someone Opens the Door*
‘The fear’ shop’s manager: Who’s there? Getting into the kitchen without my permission? What does that mean!
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???: Oh, I thought there's a crisis of sugar in this shop...I get some sugar for you. Aah! It’s you guys.
Yui: Eh!? Why are you here…
Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: That’s to you that, my shop improved a lot! You were really a great help.
I announced to all the stallholders in the acquaintance for sugar and fortunately, I managed to get some...Here you go.
Yuma: Haa? This is too much! You can use it for cotton candy or yourself!
Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: I also thought about that for a while...Somehow I remembered that you guys were working so hard.
Yui: Really, thank you! How can I thank you? I don’t think I will be able to do anything for you…
Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: It’s fine! You said earlier, right? “ We’re not helping to receive thanks.” Those feelings of you made me happy.
Yui: (Ah…!)
Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: Fufu~ Seeing this kind woman to smile...I am so glad to see it. 
*Yui blushes*
Yuma: ...Earlier...That was my bad.
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Cotton Candy Shopkeeper: Nope. By this, your problem has been solved, right?
‘The fear’ shop’s manager: Since, the perfect amount of sugar is collected, then we got no other choices but to make one.
Yui: This means…!
The fear confectionary assistant: Fufu~ Looks like we'll be busy for a while. Now, it’s time for the workers to get started. You guys, feel free to have some rest.
Place: ホテル・モーントシュタイン  客室 / Guest Room of Mortstein Hotel
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Yui: (While waiting, they already prepared the cake…!)
*Sound of spoon*
Yui: This tart (French dish cake) is delicious! Ne, Yuma Kun, what ‘bout having a bite?
Yuma: No…
Yui: Eh? Kyaa!?
*He gets closer*
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Yuma: You’re...really cool.
Yui: *Bushing* For any reason...?
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Yuma: It was impossible. But...you made it possible at the end. Wonderful...As expected from my woman.
Yui: Embarrassing…!
Yuma: Then, I’ll make it more embarrassing...Nh..*KISS*
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Yui: *Kisses back* Nh...nh… 
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Yuma: ...kuku~....*kiss*...kiss*...I knew...you’re a perfect woman…*kiss*
Yui: (I am already embarrassed...But for now...I will be like this…)
Yuma: Gimme the tart. I want to eat it.
Yui: Here it is…
Yuma: Umm...tasty! Today, we have eaten only sweet stuffs *eats*
Yui: Yes…
Yuma: It’s fine in a while. Gimme one more.
Yui: (Today I was so exhausted but...I am so happy to have met with many kind people…)
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— 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗼𝗳 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗢𝟭—
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pbandjesse · 3 years
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I am still having a lot of big emotions. But I am home now. I will be back at cam on Sunday, but its something. To be in different clothes. I took a bath. My cat is next to me. Im watching terrible youtube videos. My feel hurt a lot but like. I know I will be in my own bed soon. 
After I finally got my post up last night I tried to sleep but it didn't come easy. I would just pace for a bit. Walked in the park. Some friends came by to see my cabin. It was cute and fun. 
But then I was alone with my thoughts. I didn't like the movies I had still. And what I ended up watching sort of just upset me. And while I did fall asleep, I woke up a few times in tears. It wasn't great. 
I woke up at 530 and I couldn't fall asleep again. I was very tired. But I had so much on my mind and body. So I got up. 
I got washed and dressed. Packed up all my laundry. Tried to remember all the things I should bring home. I thought about everything. I swept the shed. And then went and got breakfast. 
Charolette was there. I talked to her a little but it was hard to not make jokes about the whole thing. I was on the very of anger. I was just so mad at my sister. And that lasted a lot of today. But now thinking about that I have a rock in my stomach. I hate some of the things I said today. Some of the things I thought. But that's where I was. 
I tried to just be honest with people. I was feeling weird. I was going to say weird things. I appreciated the support. But I also felt weird about it. Everyone kept telling me that I could deal with grief however I needed to. But it also felt wrong. I felt wrong. 
So I walked. 
I thought I would walk up to the barn. I was still in my slippers but I still walked in the wet grass. I pet the horses and talked to them. And then wandered down a hiking path. I ended up walking for 40 minutes before I ended up back at the office. 
People were there then, and Ellen brought me a pastry. I got theme stuff ready. And made up boxes. And then Heather sent me to go direct traffic. Lauren ended up coming with me and we talked for like a half hour and it helped. I felt alright. I felt weirdly alright. 
Lauren invited me to go get slushies at lunch. And I was excited about that. And then I headed to art. 
Charlie was there and we worked on our own things and talked about my sister and my feelings. He told me about a Buddist funeral he went too and the way death and mourning was delt with there. It was interesting. A lot about forgiving the other person. And that was eye opening. That I needed to forgive her. 
But I wasn't ready. I was still so mad. I am still mad. But I am trying. 
I would work on my painting. And theme for next week. And getting things ready for next week. 
I went to go talk to Chris about plans for next week. And he let me know some of my supplies came. And so I started taking that up to the shed, when Laurem called out to me to meet her at the dining hall so we could go to 711. Two other specialty boys, Gabe and Kent, came with us too.  
It was fun. I reminded them that it was Cj's birthday so we got her a little cheese cake and a donut that Gabe would go find a candle for. And I got a peach slushie and I liked it a lot. 
We got back and went to lunch. The vegetarian option was al to nicer. And when we surprised Cj and sung to her she was almost crying and it was so sweet. It was just a really nice moment.
Lauren and the other Jessica came with me to the art shed to cut cardboard and talk. I would do some prep and some painting and some cleaning. And then I had my group. 
It went well. I am really glad that the kids have been enjoying my projects so far. And they were fun. I hope that the rest of the summer the enjoy it too. 
After the kids finished helping me set up I painted a little more. And then committed to sitting in my hammock for a half hour. My feet were literally throbbing. They still are. But taking a break was good.
I went to the office after that to check in with Elizabeth about a small project for the teens next week. And then I was put in charge of shirt distribution so I was off to set that up. 
It mostly went well. But one group thought I told them I couldn't have any shirts and they said it on the walkie and Im like. The slander! And then I kept joking that everyone knows that's what Im known for at camp. Making sure the kids have a bad time and get nothing they want. Thats big Jesse energy. 
After the shirt distribution and some cleaning and packing. The day was over. I was on the porch talking and hanging out. Trying to feel normal. 
And we had cupcakes to celebrate the end of the first week. And got some info for how the groups will be laid out. They asked the specialty staff to come in on Sunday to help check in. And I agreed to come in in the afternoon. So that's all good. I will still get some time with James. 
After everyone went home I went up to the art building and finished putting things away. I got my bags and went back to the office to wait for James. I enjoyed talking to Alexi's daughters and goofing around. And then James was there and it was so nice to see them. 
I ordered us dinner. It was going badly because my data is messed up. But it was fine and we got out food even though it was wrong. 
We got back here and I was so happy to see sweetP. We had dinner. And I worked on some stuff for my student loans. 
And then I started taking screen shots. I found every comment I could on my Instagram from my sister. And all our facebook messages. There weren't many of them. I found a few pictures. There weren't many there either. But I printed them all. 
Some of them were things I would have liked to hear at my wedding. About my relationship with James. About her being proud of me. About her loving my art. Supporting me. And that's when the regret set in. 
I started reading the comments from her friends. Being shocked that she's gone. That she was a ride or die and the most loyal friend they could ask for. Someone referred to her as their sister and it made me so mad. I have been mad at her for so long. That she was never my sister. That she was never there for me. That she made so many promises and never held up her end. That I gave up trying with her. But people loved her. They saw good in her. And that hurts in a way I cant explain. 
So I had to stop. I went and took a bath and tried to just get lost in youtube drama. I washed my hair. I felt so dirty. But I feel a little better now. I am hurting emotionally and physically. I am going to try to just take care of myself and be soft tomorrow. I want to go buy some things for camp and the kids. And try to feel okay. 
Now though I need to try to sleep. Take care of yourselves everyone. I hope tomorrow feels easier. 
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The Crackship Sails to Molly’s Natalie Manning x Stella Kidd
written by @anotheronechicagobog​
warnings: swearing, mention of homophobia, Manning isn’t Nat’s maiden name, she changed it when she got married, just saying, Helen’s kindof a bitch, canon compliant accidents, implied artificial insemination, implied/mentioned smut
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They had absolutely no idea how they ended up there. Well, that wasn’t strictly true... Molly’s and ladies’ nights. And tequila, tequila was definitely at fault here. For their hangovers and their nudity under the covers. Unfortunately, the tequila didn’t take their memories, so they knew exactly what they did. Or who they did, rather. And the answer was each other.
After Natalie’s awkward exit from Stella’s apartment above the Hermann house, Stella made quick work of the dirty dishes from their breakfast. She couldn’t help but think back to the previous night. They were so drunk, but Natalie was so hot and Stella just felt something inside her snap. It had felt like a coil, but everything that she and Nat did last night, it all just felt so right, so satisfying. She felt like she was on a high. There was no way she was going to last long without having sex with Natalie again, she could already feel herself going crazy.
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As it turned out, she wasn’t the only one feeling that way. And so, their friends with benefits relationship began. Stella was a bit nervous, she had a two-year-old son and a pretty crazy mother in law. But it felt so right. Until it felt more than right, and both women knew they were in trouble. It started with cuddling after sex and lead to watching movies in the afternoon and lingering touches and longing looks. But one rainy Sunday afternoon, they were cuddled on Natalie’s brand new GRÖNLID, and suddenly it just hit both of them. They were dating, in secret, but dating. Natalie licked her lips and looked Stella in the eye. “Will you go on a date with me?” Stella cradled her face gingerly, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “I would love to.”
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It became obvious to Helen very quickly that Natalie was seeing someone, and the thought made her stomach heavy. She knew it wasn’t fair of her to hate the idea of Natalie moving on, but she couldn’t help it. She only had one son. She only wanted one son. And he was gone.
So when Owen was picked up by someone else while Natalie was at work, months after Helen knew she had officially begun dating him, Helen lost it. Her mouth turned bitter as she drove to the hospital, fully prepared to scream at her daughter-in-law in front of her coworkers. When she got to MED she barely remembered to throw her car in park before slamming the door and marching past everyone. The people waiting, nurses, secretaries, the only one who was able to stop her was Maggie. “Helen, hi. How are you? You know you can’t be back here right?”
“I’m here to see Natalie, move.”
“Okay, no. You do not get to speak to me like that ever, much less so in my ED. Drop the attitude. Now.”
“It’s too soon, Maggie, it’s only been-”
“Four years. It has been four years Helen, I’m not going to pretend I know what you’re going through, but I know that it is absolutely no excuse for acting the way you are. You are not entitled to Natalie’s love life, and you still haven’t apologized to me. And since you’re not in an emergency medical situation and I do not feel like dealing with your BS right now, you need to leave.”
“Maggie you can’t-”
“I’ll call security.”
“Don’t interfere with something that-”
“Security, escort this woman off the premises, please and thank you.” The two security guards Maggie had summoned with a raised eyebrow ended up dragging Helen out kicking and screaming. All while Natalie watched in heartbreak. Was it really that awful that she didn’t want to be alone and empty for the rest of her life?
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Because of the incident at MED Nat and Stella decided it was time to sit Helen down and tell her that they were dating and to get over herself. Helen entered in a huff, somewhat pleased with herself that she finally got Natalie to admit she was seeing someone, but she would be lying her ass off if she said she wouldn’t give whoever this guy was shit for sneaking around with a widow. She didn’t see him though, only a Latina woman in a mustard sweater and jeans. “Alright, where is he?”
“Sit down Helen, you don’t’ get to talk to me that way.” Helen threw herself down onto the same chair she’d tossed her jacket and purse on while Natalie sat beside the woman on the light green couch. Helen felt all her rage and grief evaporate as she watched the two women intertwined hands. “I’m bisexual, Helen. So is Stella. I didn’t figure it out really until I met her. I guess a part of me always knew but I kind of ignored it, because, well, you know how people discriminate against LGBTQ people. But, she makes me so, so happy. And Owen just loves her.”
“Oh thank God.”
“Huh?”
“What?”
“Oh, I don’t care about sexualities, really. Love is love and anyone who tries to limit the love of others is a fool and a monster. Truthfully, this is a relief. I was so scared that you’d found a man to replace Jeff. You dating a woman is actually a lot more comfortable for me. I already approve.”
“While I’m glad Stella’s got your stamp of approval, you have to understand that your behaviour recently is unacceptable, right? You are not entitled to anything, and you owe both me and Maggie apologies.”
“You’re... Right. Completely right. There isn’t an excuse or a reason, not a good one anyway. I’m so sorry Natalie. Really, I am... That... That psychiatrist you work with, Dr. Charles, does he, uh, is he accepting patients? I think, I mean I’ve put it off for so long, I think it’s time that I talk to someone. About everything.”
“That sounds like a good idea, Helen, I’ll talk to him tomorrow for you.”
“Thank you. Now Stella, you’ve been very quiet during all this, I’d like to get to know you. What do you do?- Oh! And how long have you two been dating?”
“I’m a firefighter, and we’ve been dating for- eight months?”
“Around that, yeah.”
“That’s wonderful, how do you like being a firefighter?”
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After Helen apologized to everyone and started therapy, things got much calmer. She also became Stella and Natalie’s biggest supporter. Like tonight, she was always offering to babysit for date nights, and the couple took full advantage of that. They were dining out at an intimate restaurant, glad for some time with just the two of them. “So I read this story on Reddit on my break today about this guy who, completely sober, was shoving a toilet brush up his... You know, so that it looked like he had a bunny tail. You guys ever get anything crazy like that?”
“Yeah actually, we’ve got this frequent flyer for ambo who regularly gets high off his ass, draws weird, nonsensical symbols all over his body, then call to complain that he was assaulted by aliens.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah, hey, I found The Italian Job on Netflix, the one with Jason Statham. Wanna watch it when we get back?”
“Oh, absolutely. I love his movies.”
“I know right?”
“He’s like the British Ryan Reynolds.”
“Yes! Exactly!”
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TWO YEARS LATER
Stella was just finishing up with the snacks for Owen’s fifth birthday party when the Hermann Horde arrived. “Hey guys! Nat’s just about done with the decorations, but she and Owen are out back.”
“When does Helen get here?”
“She should be here in fifteen, she picked up the cake from the bakery.”
“I thought you were a pretty good baker Stella, why from a bakery?”
“I can bake many things, but a cake for forty people that looks like a shark? Nope. Not that.”
“Owen really likes the ocean, doesn’t he?” Cindy looked around at all the ocean-themed decorations, the snacks dressed up to look like different sea creatures. “He really does, can’t say I blame him though. We go to the aquarium pretty frequently, and damn these little guys are amazing and beautiful.” The placed the last of the jellyfish sugar cookies on the platter and smiled. She really felt like Owen was her son, and as far as anyone was concerned, she was. It would even be official in a couple of months when she and Nat get married. “I love seeing you happy like this Stella.”
“Thanks, Cindy. It feels good.”
“It looks good too, you’re both just so bright and sometimes I swear that Natalie’s glowing.” Stella kissed the older woman on the cheek, biting her lip to keep from revealing that Natalie was glowing, and that they’d be welcoming another member into their family in around eight months.
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TWO MONTHS LATER
Natalie and Stella were overjoyed, they were finally wife and wife, recognized by the state as a family. Hearts full and warm, they danced in slow graceful circles, the skirts of both their gowns flowing in cloud-like motions around them. “I love you.”
“I love you too. So much.” The music from the orchestra trickled to an end, parting the smiling brides. “Ready to tell them?”
“Yes. I am so excited.” Kisses were exchanged before the blushing brides made their way up to the stage with their arms around each others’ waist. “First of all, we would like to thank everyone for being here to celebrate the best day of our lives.”
“Second of all, we have an announcement to make. Nat’s three months pregnant.” Stella and Natalie placed their hands over Nat’s abdomen, smiling misty tears as they were met with cheers from all of their family and friends, no one louder than Owen.
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FIVE YEARS LATER
While working in the ED Natalie had been a witness to numerous tragedies. She’d also been through a few herself. And Maggie, wise, gentle, loving, Maggie, always knew when the worst of the worst were about to come through. She got this look on her face as she answered the head nurse phone, meaning that it was someone they all knew. After a few whispered words with Ms. Goodwin Maggie’s guilt-ridden gaze settle on Natalie. “Nat, I need you to go wait in the doctor’s lounge.”
“Maggie? What’s going on?” In the back of her mind, in the depths of her heart, Natalie knew what was wrong. But she didn’t want to be right. She wanted to be so, so wrong. “Dr. Conte,” Natalie had realized two months into her and Stella’s relationship that she still had the name she took when she married Jeff at twenty years old and decided to go back to her maiden name. “You need to go wait in the doctor’s lounge.”
“Sharon, no-”
“Incoming! Thirty-three year old female, firefighter, inside an electrical fire when the house went. Halstead, Noah, April, you’re in treatment three.” The sounds of beeps and medical jargon couldn’t be heard above the buzzing in Natalie’s ears. Choi was holding her back, trying to drag her to the doctor’s lounge, stopping her from being with her wife. And then her BP dropped and she flatlined. The instructions given could not be heard by anyone outside of the room over Natalie’s horrified, deafening, soul-shattering scream.
And then it was back. One round of epi and she was back. Natalie broke down into heaving, gut-wrenching sobs in Ethan’s arms. He was the only thing keeping her from sliding to the floor, her legs had lost all their strength.
She didn’t remember sitting down, or getting any water or food. But suddenly she feels like she’s woken up and she has a bottle of water and thermos in her hands. “Eat.” Kelly Severide is beside her with a hand on her shoulder. Sylvie is handing her a spoon. Joe is handing her tissues. “Cindy and Helen are watching Owen and Celeste, don’t worry.” She’s drunk the entire water bottle and eaten five spoonful of soup when Maggie approaches her. “Maggie don’t tell me she’s gone- oh God, please no-”
“She’s fine. They’re closing her up now, she’ll recover just fine. Come on, I’ll take you to her recovery room. And bring that thermos. You’re going to finish eating even if I have to tie you down and feed you myself.”
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“Nat?” Stella had woken up, for good this time, and was staring at the love of her life as Connor and Crockett left the room. “You scared me. So, so much.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, just be alive. Please, just stay alive.” Nat kissed her forehead and stroked her hair as all her tears just couldn’t be held back anymore. “I know you love being a firefighter, and I love it too, I will never want you to give up a job that you are so kickass at, but please, please be more careful. I’m begging you.”
“Okay... I’ll be more careful.” Stella’s coughing fit was cured by a glass of water, and the aches in her bones were cured by the gentle hugs from her son and daughter when they saw her an hour later. “I love you.” She chanted to each of them. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” And she did, until she and Natalie were in their eighties and living in Fowlerton. They were found by their neighbour who went to check on them after he didn’t see them on their porch like he did every morning. Stll. Peaceful. Tangled together. In love until their very last breaths.
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aliceslantern · 3 years
Text
Give/Take, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 9
Ienzo has been too busy since the war to be overwhelmed by the past. But with little progress to be made in his work with Kairi, old nightmares start to invade.
Riku is a glorified housesitter. Lonely and faced with no choice but to wait for a way to find his friends, he eagerly accepts when Ienzo asks him to help do repairs around the castle. Before long, the two strike up an unlikely friendship, united by their dark pasts and their attempts to be better people.
But just as they begin to consider something more... Kairi wakes up.
Ienzoku (Ienzo/Riku), post-Melody of Memory, slow burn. Updates Thursdays until it's done.
Chapter summary:  On different worlds, Ienzo and Riku write each other letters.
Read it on FF.net/on AO3
---
Ienzo,
Sorry for the radio silence over the past few days, but things have literally been so insane I haven’t had a minute to myself to write this note. My mom is barely letting me out of her sight--not that I can blame her. She goes between being outraged to dropping everything and hugging me. She wants to know everything, and I’m trying to tell her as much as I can, but still editing the most… incriminating parts until she’s ready. You understand. Even when I was home before we never got into it.
I haven’t even really had time to enjoy being home. I’ve had to see family, friends, and they all want to know where I’ve disappeared to. People all over town, too, want to know what happened and where I went. A lot of people assumed that I’d gotten myself killed.
Including my parents. That was, and still is, the hardest thing I’ve had to accept. Starting to grieve someone and just beginning to make progress only to learn they’re alive… I feel so guilty. Now I wish I’d gone back home during Kairi’s year of sleep, even for a little while.
I’ll tell you more about what happened, but I just wanted to… start to get a status update. “Any news?” How are you? How have you been? What are you and the guys up to?
Write soon,
Riku
Dear Riku,
Thanks for your text. Of course I understand how overwhelming everything must be, and this was an unusual homecoming. I just hope it’s been more joyful than bittersweet, though I fear it’s the latter. I’m hoping this transition becomes less of a traumatic one for you. And even if it is… well. I am an impartial ear.
Correction--a somewhat impartial ear. I will yell at, and/or make fun of, anyone who gives you grief.
Do tell me about Sora and Kairi. Things must be dazzling for Sora especially--I can only imagine what sort of journey he’s gone through, and I’m probably wrong. Hopefully the three of you get to spend some time together, just relaxing and being friends. It’s the least of what you deserve.
I, on the other hand, don’t have much worth reporting. I’m continuing to work with Aeleus and Dilan on the repairs, helping Even with his various little experiments. I’m trying to figure out where I would be most helpful, but that has been somewhat difficult. I’m sure you can sympathize. It’s finally starting to get warm again here.
If I ever quit faffing about and find something worth writing about I’ll let you know…
Yours,
Ienzo
---
Ienzo,
Ha ha. For some reason I don’t believe you’ve been as lazy as you said you’ve been. Though part of me hopes you have. You deserve a little rest too.
On the topic of rest…
Right after I got your letter the puppet strings that have been keeping me awake since I got home snapped. I fell asleep on the living room couch and didn’t wake up for thirty-six hours. Mom was hysterical; she thought something was really wrong with me and took me to the doctor (which, considering how long it’s been since I’ve been home for any length of time, was my pediatrician. Awkward.). But the doctor just said what I told her, that I just needed to sleep . And sleep, and sleep… maybe it’s my turn to sleep for a year. Ha ha.
Yeah, yeah. Spare me your lectures. I’ve been so wired that even when I tried, I couldn’t sleep.
Sora and Kairi are doing as okay as they can. Of the three of us, I think Kairi’s bounced back the quickest. She’s already talking about re-enrolling in school to catch up. Considering she’s the mayor’s daughter, it made the news when she got back. She’s like a celebrity, though because she’s Kairi and she’s perfect, she’s got it under control. I mean that with no sarcasm whatsoever.
Sora…
As you can probably tell by me skirting around the subject, Sora… isn’t completely okay. Physically, he’s fine. Healthy. But it’s… between the Keyblade War, and what he experienced alone while we were all, very briefly, dead (which, remind me to tell you about that if I haven’t, because it is a trip.). He’s been ALONE for so long. I’ve never seen him so shaken, and he’s so quiet . Talk to him and he tries to be all smiles, of course, but a few of us were at the beach and instead of being all up in the middle of it like he usually is, he was sitting aside… alone. Kairi’s been trying to gently pry, but he keeps saying he’s okay. A tired act I think all of us know well by now. Honestly, I’m not sure what to do. What kind of therapist here would get what he’s gone through, anyway? The most we can do is be there, and keep on top of him, and hope he heals and processes over time. Makes me feel like a shitty best friend, but the emotional stuff was never my forte.
Sleepily yours,
Riku
---
My sleepyhead,
Hopefully by the time you get this you’re actually conscious. You had a long ordeal. Physically, emotionally, of course you’re exhausted. I hope you’re actually listening to it instead of pushing through. Been there. Done that. It is not worth it. You’re probably also still growing, believe it or not. The human male keeps growing and developing until twenty-five, and unless my knowledge of Destiny Island’s time stream is way off, you’re not exactly there yet.
I’m glad Kairi is doing well, and taking all of that in stride. If it were me I would’ve thrown in the towel long ago. I think school would be good. A taste of normalcy. You three deserve to get back to your lives… whatever that means. Or at least rest a while before finding greener pastures elsewhere.
It’s disheartening, but not surprising, that Sora feels the way he does. Like I said, I can only imagine what he might have gone through. Though I don’t like it when you say you’re a shitty friend when I watched you struggle to save your friends for a literal year. You’re too hard on  yourself, Riku. Being there, after everything else you did for him, is enough. Make sure to take time for yourself too. Though if Sora’s condition deteriorates, do let me know. I’ll see if I have any sort of psychological resource which might help him more than just a standard therapist with no notion of the greater World outside. Hopefully he’ll start to feel more himself once he settles back down.
This… very brief death occurrence you were referring to intrigues me. What was all that about? Fortunately it seems to not have stuck, but regardless, I felt my heart jump into my throat when I read it.
The others have been asking after you, Ansem especially. He says to “send his regards” and I promise it’s friendlier than it sounds.
I wonder, do you have sea salt ice cream where you are? It’s the height of summer and Scrooge McDuck is out. None of my cohorts here are willing to share. It’s been war.
Craving sea salt,
Ienzo
---
To the insatiable sweet tooth--
No, as a matter of fact, we do not have that particular sea salt ice cream here. If we want it, we have to go off-world. There are other, more native flavors which you might like, like dragon fruit or star fruit. (It’s mostly fruit. Sorry, we’re islanders.)
Sora seems to be doing a little bit better. Roxas, Xion, and them came to visit, which seemed to brighten his spirits, or at least distract him. Sometimes he still stares off into the distance and he’s not quite as chatty. This is going to take a long time.
As for the death thing… well, part of why Sora disappeared was because he went back in time to save us after the dark prophecy was fulfilled and the Demon Tide killed us… apparently. Even I can’t keep it all straight in my head, and it happened to me. He changed the flow of time to save us, and “abusing” the power of waking to save Kairi was the final straw. I… don’t like thinking about it much. It makes me feel sick.
Mundane life feels weird. I do chores around the house, and I mow lawns for some pocket change. Can you imagine it? The magic would make it easy, but it also unsettles people, so I do it with a mower. I had to go to social services to get an ID and we waited in line for two. Hours. I almost went insane. But at least it no longer has the awful picture it did when I started high school.
Speaking of, mom wants me to re-enroll right away, and dad wants me to do night school and speed through a general high school degree. I’m not sure how I feel about it, honestly. Kairi and Sora are excited, and I think it’ll be good for them. Maybe I’ll take a year, or do it online, or something. Though I’m sad to say my computer literacy isn’t nearly as good as yours.
How are you feeling in the castle? It must be summer for you guys there, too, though I imagine there aren’t beaches or anything. I didn’t see any. Do you have any summer activities? Or do you just sit in the library with a moldering old paperback all day?
Gainfully employed,
Riku
---
Dear Riku,
Thank you for satisfying my curiosity about that experience. I knew time travel was a factor in Sora’s disappearance--but I didn’t think it went like that for all of you. Terrifying. Awful.
A fantastic way to start a correspondence.
To answer the question… no, there are no “beaches” in terms of ocean beaches, but when I was a boy Radiant Garden did have springs on the far edges of town, as well as public pools. I was not allowed to go to them much--Even was rather neurotic--but yes, they do exist. Did exist. The restoration committee has it on their very, very long list. The paths down to the springs probably need some maintenance.
That is to say, when not in the lab I am sweating and thinking of cooler days. Though I know this might feel borderline chilly for you. Indifference to temperature is one of the few things on my waning list of what I miss from being a Nobody.
I’m glad you have some way to fill your days… that, and the idea of you working outside appeals to me. I imagine it must bore you.
I don’t spend ALL of my days in the library. Just most of them, lately, as am still trying to get this place even the slightest bit organized. If I had the resources I’d digitize everything. It’d make life so much easier. But I am one person with one computer and there are thousands upon thousands of books here. As a boy I used to have the fantasy of reading all of them before I turned eighteen. But, alas, that has not happened, and some of the texts are too boring, or in another language, or are too fragile to be handled. I clearly had very interesting ideas of leisure.
I still have not been able to get my hands on any decent ice cream.
Unsatisfied,
Ienzo
---
Ienzo,
I wanted to talk about this earlier but I had to get things settled in terms of my room. (Long story. Not a fun story.) Would you ever consider visiting? I could come get you. My parents are okay with it. In fact, they for some reason link you with me coming home, which I guess is true. You did help us get the clue Kairi needed. Either way, you’ve already made a good impression.
(If it’s not clear, I miss you.)
I can take you to a real beach. Show you around, not that there’s a whole lot to see. A change of scenery might be nice. Sora and Kairi want to hang out, too. Sora says hi.
If you’re busy, of course, I can come to you. But I know you’ve been there a long time, and there’s not always good memory there.
No pressure. Let me know.
Riku
---
Riku,
I think you may be on the right track with a change of scenery. I’m afraid what little wit I had left me, and when I was explaining to the others I’d like to visit, it became clear very quickly that our relationship is more than surface level. For that, I’m sorry.
However… the more I think about it, the more appealing it is. Even doing nothing--with you--is better than sitting here doing nothing by myself.
That is to say I miss you too.
I can be ready whenever is most convenient. I’m sorry for making you come all this way, though.
Ienzo
---
Ienzo,
Please, the flight will give me a few hours’ of peace and quiet. It’s been great spending all this time with friends and family, but… I feel kind of suffocated sometimes. Besides, I better keep my piloting skills in tip-top shape. Sora’s mad that I’m better at it than him. What can I say, it’s one of my many natural talents. Along with gardening, apparently.
Bring light clothes; it’s HOT here. And sunscreen. I mean it.
Looking forward to seeing you, and talking to you, in person.
Yours, Riku
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basementsushi · 4 years
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Nekyia
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--^ from this prompt I wrote the short story below, entitled Nekyia. Enjoy!--
I did it! My EMT training is complete, I’m licensed and ready to go, and I officially start my new job on Monday, just over two weeks from now. I got this little notebook at the store today to write that down, to make it feel more real. I did it mom, I did it.
I feel like I should explain. I don’t know why, I can’t imagine anyone else will read this. Mom was an EMT too, a volunteer one in the rural town she grew up and lived in. That’s where she met dad too, after she saved his life after a gun accident. Dad always called her “Angel” after that, because at the hospital doctor’s were surprised he had survived, and he always credited mom’s care with his survival.
Mom passed away when I was really little. I don’t even remember her, aside from pictures and stories, I was only three at the time. From the time I was little I decided to become an EMT, just like her, to honor her memory I suppose, though over time I found myself just as passionate about it as she was (at least, according to my aunt). 
And now I’ve finally done it! I just wish mom and dad were still here with me to celebrate. Dad passed just a couple of years after mom, and I lived with my aunt Camille after that until I was 18. She took me out to dinner yesterday to celebrate, and gave me a necklace my mom apparently always wore, that my dad had wanted me to have one day. I don’t even know how to describe it, it’s a little metal charm almost, in an odd shape I’ve never seen before, strung on a dark, thin cord. I feel closer to her with it though, and have started keeping it in my wallet wherever I go.
Wow, that’s more than I’ve written in a journal than… well, I think ever. And chances are I won’t write here again. I’m going to try, but my track record with these things is pretty bad. I wanted to make sure I did at least something to remember finally reaching my goal.
-----
Well, I’m surprised to be picking this thing up again. It’s been over a month since I wrote in it last, and I’ve been at my job about three weeks so far. Nothing too weird has happened, though it has been a bit of an adjustment, until today, and I just had to write about it.
We were responding to a call today, for an older man who had collapsed in the middle of a grocery store, of a suspected heart attack. By the time we got there he was unresponsive, wasn’t breathing, and we couldn’t find a pulse. I really didn’t think he was going to make it, it took us too long to get there I thought.
I started CPR anyway, as well as rescue breathing, while the ambulance was prepared, hoping he would start breathing. I could hardly believe it when he did! We seemed to have him almost stabilized before we even had him on the ambulance. 
That wasn’t even the weirdest part for me. The weirdest part was the first thing he said when we were getting him onto the ambulance. I suspected he was hispanic before, but when I recognized he was speaking Spanish that confirmed it. I didn’t understand what he said to me at the time, but a coworker translated it for me later. He looked right at me and said “eres un ángel”, which means “you are an angel”. 
It’s so weird. The same thing dad called mom after she miraculously saved him. It almost feels like a message from mom, like she’s letting me know I did a good job. I pulled her necklace out of my wallet to look at some today. I still have no idea if it means anything, but it makes me feel better to have around.
-----
I guess I’m going to write in this little notebook a lot more than I thought. In the two weeks since I last wrote there was another case where the patient, from what we could tell, should have died, but after care (I administered some of it), miraculously survived. Especially after others heard about what the elderly hispanic gentleman said the nickname “Angel” has spread for me. 
I should feel glad, I’m helping people, just like mom. But instead I feel… uneasy. Especially this week, but starting around when I saved the hispanic man, I’ve been seeing this man around a lot. He’s the kind of person I don’t think I’d normally notice, a bit taller than average, brown eyes, dark hair. Nothing about him stands out. But the look in his eyes, the fact that I’ve seen him just looking at me, often when I’m arriving to help patients… I could swear he’s following me. And…
No, it’s too silly to write here. I think I just need more sleep, I’ve been so busy with my new job, studying on the side, and all the other things I’m doing. Maybe I need to drop a hobby or something so I can sleep more.
-----
I keep seeing it. Him. The man I wrote about. It’s only been a few days since I last wrote here, but I’ve seen him almost every day. Sometimes looking at me, sometimes just passing by. And I swear I’ve seen wings on him. I’d seen it before, but I thought it was just a lack of sleep. Stress. I don’t know what to think anymore. 
Even Nina (my dog, I realize I haven’t written about her before) is acting like something is off. She’s normally very calm, but every time I get home from work she gets super agitated, and takes ages to calm down and come near me again. Maybe she doesn’t like the smell of the disinfectant from work? I don’t feel like that’s it though, she didn’t start doing this until recently.
Work is still going well at least. I really feel like I’m making a difference. We’ve had less fatalities than usual, which is always good news. I just hope the rest of this weirdness goes away soon.
-----
I’m having Mark (my coworker) drive me home most days now, instead of taking the bus. He found it weird that I finally took him up on his offer, and I probably wouldn’t have, if not for yesterday.
The man, the strange one? I saw him on the bus yesterday on the way home. With nothing else to do on the trip I finally looked at him a bit more, especially all the random symbols on his jacket. I hadn’t looked directly at it before, I hadn’t realized…
On his right sleeve, on the arm, near the shoulder, is the symbol. The same one on mom’s necklace. I took it out of my wallet for the first time in a couple of weeks to hold, and I swear it felt cold. It freaked me out, I don’t want to run into him ever again, especially not alone.
-----
It’s been a week since the bus incident. I’m shaking right now, after what happened today, but I have to write it down, to make it feel more, real? To record it? I don’t even know.
It’s my day off. I’d normally sleep in later, but Nina woke me up around seven barking like mad at the front door. I groggily got up, went to the door, and through the peephole saw the man, the one who had been following me.
I think I was tired, or in shock, or just done with it all, but I opened the door, and he quietly stepped inside. Just a step, not even enough that I could close the door behind him. When he started to speak, he just sounded… odd. Something about his voice, I can’t figure out how to describe it. 
Everything he said, it made no sense. He talked about ceasing the ancient arts? He made it sound like I was messing something up, but I have no idea what he meant. He even mentioned mom, saying she had done this too, and I didn’t want to keep going down her path, that the “arts passed down in your family lead to delayed grief, they don’t eliminate it”. 
Then he just left. I don’t know what to do. I eventually found Nina hiding in my room, and am just sitting here on the floor with her now, writing down what happened. Do I call the police? What would I even tell them? 
-----
He’s giving me time to write, just before he takes me. I have to write quickly. He was able to show me memories - of my mother, of my family before her, our ancestors further back than I recognize. The necklace (rather, the talisman), it’s older than I thought, passed down for generations.
Angel. Ironic, isn’t it? My mom was no angel, neither was I. Just the latest in a long line of… I can’t even believe it. Necromancers. The miracles, the lives saved… they won’t even stay saved. We only delayed the inevitable, until this man could track them down again, to take them, just like he’s taking me now. 
Most have times they have to go. The hispanic man. My dad. It’s no wonder he died so shortly after mom, she wasn’t around to bring him back anymore. And because mom and I upset the balance of things, and didn’t stop when warned (I don’t think either of us understood the warning), we’re being taken too. And the people I saved, the miracles… soon they’ll be taken too.
He’s starting to nod at me, I know we’re going soon. He’s said he’ll make it quick, just like mom. He doesn’t want me to suffer, his job is just to guide us to where we go. He promises Nina’s time isn’t yet, apparently my aunt will find her very soon.
I almost can’t believe it. This all sounds so silly. I wouldn’t have even believed him, but… the wings I thought I saw. I see them clearly now. And I feel sleepy, I can’t write much longer. He said his brother’s blessing will make it not hurt, all I have to do is drift off to sleep. I tried mom, I hope I made you proud. It’s hard to hold my pen up, I think I’m coming to see you soo-
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jammyjess · 4 years
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Hey friends!
I found King Falls AM at a time in my life where I felt scared, hopeless and alone. I didn’t want to be here at all, and I thought for the most part I’d never be happy again. I’m still most of those things, but every day in King Falls makes that a little easier to be okay with. I thought long and hard about what I could manage for this, but most of all, I just wanted to say thank you. So. Here goes.
Thank you for Sammy Stevens, who is my favourite kind of character. He’s sassy and pretty and humble and full of love.Thank you for his cynicism and snark, but also for his ability to push aside his own beliefs and ideas and wants when it matters. Also, for letting him Suplex Grisham, because that was pretty neat! Thank you for the way he relates to the people around him, but especially to Lily. For a character who makes mistakes and actually tries to learn from them - he doesn’t always get it right, but he tries, and that’s so important. He’s made me laugh, he’s made me cry, he’s made me want to scream. I adore his backstory, it means more to me than I can say, but also thank you for the way you handled the events around 75. It was so meaningful. I love him with everything I have, which is why it hurts me to thank you for his pain, which is so unbelievably relatable to my own. For my own hurt that comes out of his mouth. The kind of hurt that transcends circumstances. I was in a dark place before this show, and parts of me are still there, but watching Sammy grow, and change and heal has meant everything to me. It gives me hope for better days. For Sammy, and for me too. Thank you for giving him the courage to stick around, and for giving him hope. Thank you for Benny Arnold. Who I can’t write about coherently without bursting into tears. He’s messy and flawed and just absolutely gorgeous. Seeing him grow through the years has been an absolute joy, but most of all, I love his ability to remain untainted by the horrors he’s been through. He’s still got the same heart, and it’s the best heart there is. I love his passion, his hope, his resilience. His belief in everybody around him. He remains unapologetically himself through everything, and I adore him. He is The Good, and I’m so glad we have him. Noah brings such complexity to him too, and I can listen a thousand times to a single episode and continue to feel all the things. 
Thank you for Emily. For making a strong, intelligent, badass women who���s also soft and desirable and loving. For letting her write her own story and for letting her be more than a prize to be won. She’s so good natured and considerate and thoughtful, and even in her worst moments she never loses that. Every moment she appears is wonderful and Jess KILLS IT every time! I’ve especially enjoyed phase two Emily, as her relationships with other characters become more integral to the story. Thank you for speaking out against the Frickards of the world through her, because it hurts and it’s hard but it’s so important. Using your audience for good means so much. Thank you for the thoughtfulness and care with which you consistently apply to sensitive subjects. For day-to-day happiness, for happy places and for months of quiet kindness without ever being asked. 
Thank you for Jack Wright. For the reminder to choose love (even when it’s hard. Maybe especially when it’s hard.) For the reminder that we’re all worthy of love, in all its forms. The affirmation that nobody corners the market on sadness, but also that we don’t always have to go it alone. That grief is universal, and that’s not always a bad thing. For quiet moments of humanity in the midst of absolute tragedy. For vulnerability, for heartbreak and moving forward together. For forgiveness and acceptance, and humility. 
Thank you for Dwayne Libbydale, who’s a special kind of chaos. I am again lost for words, but I love him, I love him, I love him. 
Thank you for Pete Escobar Ed Edwards Yardboy Myers and his funyuns and disdain and snark (even if me saying I love him means he’ll never listen to this show again.) Thank you for PHENOMENAL journalist Lily Wright, who is an absolute delight! She feels like the personification of grief, loss and trauma, but at the same time so, so real. Her reluctant acceptance of King Falls as home is beautiful, and I hope she gets ALL THE HUGS really soon. She’s not afraid to speak her mind, even if it means alienating the people she loves. Her shaky vulnerability with Sammy, Ben and Emily is so good, and I’m so excited to see where the future of Lily Wright lays. King Falls Chronicles was some KILLER story telling, and Candace was the icing on the cake. The acting chemistry she has with everybody is absolutely on point. I’m so glad we get to keep Lily. That she’s found home. Thank you for #DeputyDead. His unwavering optimism and willingness to see the good in everything and everybody is absolutely wonderful. 
Thank you for Debbie and RoboTim, who I still believe in, despite all evidence pointing to ‘don’t do that.’ Thank you for Maggie Masterson, an Actual Icon. And for our Man’s Man’s Man and his lil Kingsie Bab. For Regan who is a sweetheart and Chet who I hate to love.
Thank you for villains that fill me with white hot rage. Who’s actions are explained, but never excused. For Frickards and Gundersons and ShadowFUCKS and HFB3’s and Leland Hills and Ernies and Grishams. They’re different levels of despicable, and I adore hate them all. 
Thank you for ridiculous caricatures ; the Gwendolyns and the Cynthias and the Jacob Williams. Thank you for SPORTSBALL (CHOP. DAT. WOOD.) and WALL CRABS and GARBAGE BEARS and DANGER NOODLES  and every other ridiculous Benism. 
Thank you for Teareal and serendipity and redrum roses and for the inability to see the word ‘ghost’ and not correcting it to APPARITION. Thank you for Dan & Larry and boy band battles and Doyle’s Conspiracy Cavern and Devon Hamptonframptonshire. For Golden Owl, Finn and Gator Jack and Alvin and every other ridiculously loveable character you’ve created. Some of them barely last longer than an episode, but their chaos will fuel me for a lifetime. 
Thank you for Mary Jensen, who is the mom I wish I had. All moms are champs, but Mary is perfect. Thank you for Betty and Nancy and Loretta and Marigold. All who I expect deserve the praise they’re given. 
Thank you for Herschel and Cecil, who are cranky old bastards and who probably shouldn’t fit together, but they do so effortlessly. The care and compassion they have for each other is inspiring, and I too hope to have a friend like that someday. Trent is wickedly skilled, and I’m sure he hears it so often but!!!! 
Thank you for BE WELL BUDDIES and silly puns in the titles, and short jokes and RoboTim mixups and Science Institute break-ins with vigilante superheroes and mysterious callers. Thank you for love through overnight oats and moustache talk and non-binary pals. For a willingness to grow and change and learn and laugh. For the electrolocaust and my favourite threesome and for sammiversarys. For Ben posting Sammy’s bail, and heart-to-hearts in jail cells. For stupid bets and bensplosions and the fucking kickball story. For creepy dreams and technical terms, for badly timed BEEPS for awkward flirting and on-air confessions. For idiots who can’t keep secrets, let alone not talk about them on air for more than five minutes. For missing hikers and weird shadow tornados and notebooks and shooting down UFOs and death by damnation. For the SECOND BEST small town in American Celebration, for Christmas Gifts for Ben’s Mom and Jupiter Jaundice. For Ben’s monopoly tactics and Sammy’s audible eye rolls, for prophecies and ‘legend-has-it’s and for love and love and love.
Thank you for the mysteries, and for the constant need for MORE. You do cliffhangers so wonderfully, and I feel like I’ve never anticipated anything so keenly in my life. Tim Jensen, The Dark, Merv, Death by Damnation, The Rainbow Lights, The Zombies. 
Thank you for Cameron Chambers??? How does he do it?? I have no idea, but I hope he keeps doing it. Especially all them Christmas BOPS. Legendary. Jazz-Hands worthy! 
Thank you for making Zombies the F- plot. 
Thank you for the Eagle Screech in the DALE’S DOLLAR TREE ad. And all the other ads too, I guess. I don’t understand The Fucky List, but thanks for that too! Thank you for JACK IN THE BOX JESUS which has caused my internet to constantly recommend me eat at Jack in the Box, despite the closest one being literal continents away.
Thank you for continuing to choose this. For being open to sharing so much of yourselves with us. Thank you for fan interactions and live listens, Q&As and twitter replies and twitch streams and retweets and Beyond the Falls. Thank you for the love and care you show us all, which above all feels genuine. 
Thank you for being the catalyst for a community where I finally feel like I belong. Like I’m important. Like I matter. Thank you for being the reason for hours and days and weeks and months of in-jokes and teasing and theories and head canons and screaming and food talk and love. For so much kindness. And acceptance. For a space to be myself without fear. For people I feel like I’ve known lifetimes, and for whom I hope I can love for lifetimes more. For people to cheer on, and cry with, and poke fun at. For stupid nickname changes, and memes and words in reactions. For making me feel like i’m part of something much bigger than me. For a place to be passionate without judgement. For a place to just be. For friends. For family.
Thank you for the push I’ve needed to create again. And for all the others you’ve inspired too. 
Every moment inside King Falls have been an absolute blessing, but the impact it’s had on my life outside of it is absolutely everything.
Congratulations on (almost) 100 episodes. What an adventure it’s been. I’m so excited for everything the future of King Falls holds, but most of all; Thank you for making this fuckin’ mean something.
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deans-baby-momma · 5 years
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The Padackles Link-Chapter 53
A/N: Having to post from my phone because my laptop is froze so if this look weird, I'm sorry. I don't even know if the tags will work. ************************************* AUSTIN The warm water cascading down my face masks the tears as they escape my eyes. In the sanctuary of the bathroom, I could let all my insecurities and fear free. What had happened? Where had everything gone so wrong? I was at a complete loss. As I shampooed my hair I tried to think over the events of the day before. Yes I had been worried about showing up to JJ’s party, even after Jensen’s reassurances that I had nothing to worry about. He had even promised to leave early if I had felt unwelcome or out of place. None of those had happened though. The only discomfort was when Josh had shown up. Neither Jensen nor I had any inclination that Dani had began dating anyone, least of all, the doctor who delivered their daughter. After rinsing off, I turned the water off and stepped out into the bathroom. The sink still had his bottle of aftershave and cologne sitting to the side, his razor still thrown haphazardly into its container. All evidence that Jensen hadn’t packed everything. Maybe he was planning on returning to retrieve them later? I wrap my hair up in the towel and step to the sink. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, I look at my reflection. The face looking back at me is one I don’t recognize. My face is red and puffy; my eyes are swollen from crying, I’m sure and they just look devoid and bereft. There is no light in them; no life. I compare the woman looking back at me to the girl who, just a few years ago, had lost the love of her life and became a widow. The woman staring back at me is more disconsolate than that girl was. Shaking my head, I turn and get dressed to go check on my son. He was who I needed to worry about. He needed me, even if Jensen didn’t. Jackson was a helpless baby who needed a mother who could care for him, not a grief-stricken shell. Jackson and I head to the park to meet the Padalecki’s. I am looking forward to having some adult conversation and interactions, not a one-sided communication with an infant. Parking near the entrance, I grab the diaper bag and my purse from the front seat and exit the vehicle. Walking around to the other side, I grab for the handle to pull Jackson from his carseat when I hear my name being called. I look up to see Jared heading my way, a smile on his face. “Hey Jared,” I say as he approaches. “Glad you could make it. How’s little man?” Jared asks looking into the window at my little boy. “He’s fine. Just woke up from a nap not too long ago so he should enjoy this outing.” “How are you doing?” Jared inquired, his voice changing from the cheerful tone to a more somber one. I smile at the compassion and tenderness I hear in his words. He might be Jensen's co-star, best friend and pseudo-brother but if it hadn't been for Jared Padalecki, Jensen and I may not have survived the loss of one of our twins. I wonder now if his support and encouragement had been for naught. If Jensen and I were over and done, would I still be able to call the Padaleckis my friends? Jared helps me pull Jackson from the car and offers to carry the carseat over to where Gen is sitting on a bench in the shade. As we reach her, I notice a small smile on her face as she watches Jared and I interact. I can see that she is contemplating something but can’t for the life of me figure out what is going on in her head. I shake those thoughts away as I sit on the bench between them and watch as the Padalecki boys run and play on the playground, hoping that in a year or so, my son will be able to join and befriend them. DALLAS After changing out of his pajamas and brushing his teeth, Jensen strolled into the one room he knew he could find his mother, the kitchen. Donna Ackles loved to cook and bake and was always tinkering away, making some type of food in the kitchen. Jensen grabbed an empty mug from the cupboard and poured himself a cup of the black brew. “Good morning Jensen,” Donna said, not even looking up from whatever she was stirring on the stove. “Are you ready to tell me why you showed up last night? And don’t even tell me you missed us. We had just seen you at the party.” Jensen cringed. He knew his mom was correct. He couldn’t use the excuse that he had thought of because it had only been about five hours before he showed up that they were all together, celebrating his daughter’s birthday. After taking a sip of his coffee, Jensen sit the cup down and leaned his elbows onto the counter. “I just needed some space. Get my head on right.” “About what?” Donna inquired, curious as to what had her son so unsettled. She set the burner on low and turned to look at him. “Yesterday. The party. Danneel flaunting Josh���” “And you’re upset about that?” Donna asked confused. She knew Jensen was upset and hurt when he found out about his ex’s affair but she also knew he had moved on with Drea. Had had a son with the girl, so why did it bother him that Dani had also moved on. “You’re with Drea now. You two have a son. Do you expect Dani to just sit at home in that big house and raise your daughter? That she is not meant to meet someone new for herself?” Jensen looked at his mom, stunned. That wasn’t what this was about whatsoever. He didn’t care that Danneel had found someone new. It wasn’t his place to tell her when she could begin dating again. No, this was more about WHO she chose to date. Jensen proceeded to tell his mother this. “It’s not that she is dating again. I don’t care about that,” he said. “Just...it’s who she is seeing. Josh is the doctor who delivered JJ and conned Drea into dating in order to get the results of the paternity test. Danneel will always have a special place in my heart. She is the mother of my first born, my little girl. And I wish no harm or ill will toward her. I want her to be happy. But I feel as though she is trying to take a jab at Drea by dating her ex.” Jensen ran his hand down his face, relieved to get that off his chest. “What do you mean, ‘conned Drea into dating him’?” “He agreed to do the paternity test only if Drea went out with him. And she agreed. They went out for several months then suddenly he dumps her because she didn’t feel the same as he did.” Donna nods in understanding but then abruptly and tilted her head to the side. “So? People break up all the time. What’s the big deal?” “The big deal? The big deal is after everything Drea has been through in her life, she just shrugged off the fact that the person who unceremoniously ditched her was right there in her face.” “Okay whoa,” Donna said, putting her hand on Jensen’s. “Back up. What are you talking about? What is Drea’s story?” Jensen explained to his mom about Drea’s mother being diagnosed with cancer and passing away when Drea was a teenager and how she had been put into a group home; how she met and fell in love with Chad in that home and after they both aged out of the system, they were married and were beginning to start a life together when it all abruptly came to an end after Chad was killed. By the time Jensen was finished, both mother and son had tears running down their cheeks. Donna grabs them both a napkin and wipes her face before she confronts him. “Jensen Ross Ackles! Are you that naive? I know I raised you to be smarter than this.” Jensen looks at his mom, frozen. “What?” “Drea wasn’t upset about Josh being there, with Dani because she never cared for him. Sure they dated but for her that is all it was. She wasn’t ready to let go of her husband and move on, not with the doctor anyway.” Jensen looked down at the table and let his mom’s words run through his mind. Was his mom right? Had Drea not been ready to move on when she dated Josh? Jensen thought back over what Drea had told him about her relationship with the doctor. She had only agreed to go out with him to help Dani keep her infidelity a secret, to help his ex get the results of the paternity test that she had needed. Donna groaned and sighed. “My god. I can’t imagine what is going through her head. What do you think this looks like to her? You see your ex with someone else and you pack up and leave. She is probably thinking you are upset that Dani is moving on. Good lord, Jensen. You’ve really screwed the pooch on this one.” “No, Drea knows I love her. She knows….” but as Jensen goes to tell his mom that Drea knew why he left, he realizes the fact that he never did tell her what was bothering him. Drea had left him alone after he blew up and threw the glass against the wall. Jensen jumps up so fast, the chair he was sitting in rocked backwards and almost falls over. He sits his almost empty cup in the sink and kisses his mom’s cheek. “Thanks Ma.” Donna shakes her head as she watches her son rush out of the room. She grabs her phone from the counter and opens a new text message. To: Drea My son may be an idiot and does things without thinking but he loves you and that little boy immensely. Give him time and he’ll come around. Jensen throws his bags into the backseat of his truck and hops into the driver’s seat. “Please for the love of god, don’t let me be too late. Let me be able to fix this. I can’t lose her!” he chants out loud as he pulls out of his parents’ driveway and heads back toward Austin. Pulling into the garage, Jensen immediately notices Drea’s car isn’t parked in the usual spot. He looks into the rearview mirror to check the street as he cuts off the engine. Opening the door, his heart drops when he realizes Drea might have packed and left him. Took their son and abandoned the home they had built. He ran to Jackson bedroom and was relieved to see that the crib and bassinet and all the furniture was unmoved and the clothes were still folded in drawers and hanging in the closet. Jensen walks to their bedroom and is once again relieved to see the bed unmade and all of Drea’s belongings in their places. Maybe she just ran to the store, he thinks to himself and heads back to the kitchen to get something to drink and wait on her to return. He is more than ready to beg and plead for forgiveness. He will get down on his knees if he has to. Anything not to lose her and Jackson over his stupidity. AUSTIN Thomas Padalecki is one tenacious little boy. Nothing would make him happy until he was able to push Jackson in a swing. So I held my son on my lap in the wooden swing while Thomas pushed with all his little might. I snuck and helped him move us by pushing my toes into the sand underneath the play area. Jackson cooed and laughed, which in turn made Thomas feel as if he was doing an excellent job. I hear my phone begin ringing in the diaper bag so I stop the swing and hoist Jackson onto my hip. By the time I get to where my bag is sitting, Gen has pulled the phone out and is handing it to me. "It's Jensen." I roll my eyes as I hand Jackson over to her. Taking the phone, I answer the call and walk away from the bench for privacy. "Hello?" "Hey. Where are you? I came home to an empty house." Oh, so he does care! How thoughtful. "I'm out with Gen and Jared. I'll be back in a couple of hours." "Drea, I'm s--" he begins but I don't want to hear it so I interrupt. "Jay, save it. I said I'd be home in a couple of hours. Just don't disappear again, okay? We have a lot to discuss and I'd rather do it face to face." "I'll be here," he says and I can hear the apprehension and panic in his voice. "I love you." "Yea, love you too," I say and hang up. Turning back to the bench I can see Gen keeping Jackson entertained but trying to eavesdrop too. I know she isn't doing it to be nosy or intrusive, she actually cares about this situation. Our conversation last night proved just that. *FLASHBACK (the night before)* "I'm so confused, " I tell Gen. "I thought we were doing okay. Not even an actual argument about anything. We got along perfectly. Almost too perfect, ya know?" "What do you mean?" Gen had asked me, puzzled. "There are no perfect relationships, Gen. You know that. I mean, I'm sure you and Jared have had your share of disagreements." She nodded her agreement. "Jay and I...this is our first. We haven't argued since we've been together. Everything was just….too impeccable. I really should have seen this coming." I run my hand through my hair and sigh. "Do you know how we met?" "You were stranded on the side of the road with a flat and they stopped to help," Gen confirmed. "Yea, and if it hadn't been for the spare being flat I wouldn't've needed any help. Gen, until I met Jensen I was a strong independent woman who could take care of herself. I have no idea when that changed!" Gen placed her hand on top of mine on the table. "Drea, you are still a strong, independent woman. I have never heard you complain once about anything. From months of being alone while the guys are up in Vancouver filming to giving birth with no one there to support you! I don't know if I could have done that." "I had no control over that," I told her. "Jackson wasn't going to wait for his father to make the 6 hour flight." "See strong," Gen smiled. "You just took what was given to you in stride. You're my hero." "And you're full of it," I laugh. "But I am glad you are my friend. I've never really had a friend. Most of the kids in the group home were all snobs and only look out for themselves. 'Cept Chad. We both needed a friend and that's how we bonded." "I'm glad we are friends too, Drea. I care highly for you, kid. Jared and I both do." "Thanks Gen." After our heart to heart, Gen and I had decided to go to bed and sleep away this horrible day. *END FLASHBACK* After leaving the park, I took my time driving back to the house. I knew what needed to happen and what needed to be said but I was dreading it. Dreading the fight for what I wanted, the fight for what I needed. For myself and for my son. Pulling into the garage and seeing Jensen's truck parked in its usual spot caused the pit in my stomach to grow. Here goes nothing, I thought as I climbed out of the car and went to get Jackson out. Jensen doted on his son from the moment I sat the carseat on the counter. He unbuckled Jackson and pulled his from the restraints, kissing on him and telling his son how much he was missed. I sit the diaper bag beside the now empty seat and walked to the bedroom. I needed a few minutes and Jensen needed to spend time with Jackson; to realize what he was losing. I don't know how much time passed before Jensen joined me in the bedroom. "He was worn out. Went to sleep with no problems," Jensen told me as he approached me. He bent to kiss me but I stepped away. "Jay, we need to talk." ************************************* Tags: @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @carryonmywaywardcaptain @darlingpeanut @sunskittlex @sis-tafics @wayward-gypsy @sea040561 @pretty-fortune @squirrelnotsam @death-unbecomes-you @sandlee44 @internationalmusicteacher @kricketc27 @natura1phenomenon @mannls @nickie-amore @spn-tw-37 @frozenhuntress67 @blacktithe7 @supernaturallymarvellous @thetardishasaquidditchpitch @sirod-30 @heyitscam99 @smoothdogsgirl @i-just-wanna-run-hell @paintballkid711 @closetspngirl @starfirerules @vickiq9761 @rainflowermoon @spnbaby-67 @flamencodiva @tiffany-leigh @drakelover78 @jessieray98 @81mysteriouslyme @travelingriversideblues-x @akshi8278 @keymology @topthis808
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in-arlathan · 4 years
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What Friends Are For
Hey people, I’m back with some writing. This time with a short piece about Lavellan after the battle with Corpyheus. Solas does not make an appearance in this one, instead Sera joins in to cheer her up. Hope you enjoy it. <3
Characters: Sera, Female Lavellan (Alis Lavellan) Chapters: 1/1, Length: 2,158 words Pairing: Solas/Female Lavellan Rating: PG-13, Teen And Up Audiences
Summary: Corypheus is defeated and the Inquisitor’s fight is finally over. But victory came with a cost. After losing Solas, Lavellan considers her plans for the future. Not sure where she might go, she is all but overwhelmed by grief and fear. Fortunately, there is a Friend of Red Jenny who still cares about her.
A/N: This is an updated version of the story that I posted over @old-arlathan​.
You can read this on AO3, too.
______
The party continued long after the sun had set over the Frostback mountains. From her place on the balcony, the Inquisitor could hear her companions as they filled the dark corridors of Skyhold with laughter and cheerful banter. She never thought she’d live to see them in such a great mood.
If there ever was a time to celebrate, it was now. They had accomplished the impossible: They had defeated Corypheus and his forces, at long last. And although the cost was high, it would have been an insult to their fallen comrades to not enjoy this moment of peace.
A small part of Alis wanted to go back downstairs to join her friends in the faint hope the lose herself in the moment. But the rest of her simply wanted to withdraw from the world and pretend that things were different. That is why she had retreated to her quarters, leaving her companions and advisors to themselves. They had fought as hard as Alis herself to bring Corypheus down. They deserved to enjoy themselves without her curbing their mood with her gloomy thoughts.
Of course, she was proud of what the Inquisition had accomplished. It had stood against the chantry, sealed the breach and brought peace to Orlais and Ferelden. It had prevented the assassination of Empress Celene and hindered the grey wardens from raising a demon army. And in the end, it had brought down the madman behind this entire mess. And yet she couldn't help but wonder what would happen next. All her thoughts had been fixed on one thing, and one thing only: stopping the enemy from destroying the world. There hadn't been much room for anything else. The only thing that she'd allowed to distract her had been Solas.
For a time, she had hoped to leave Skyhold with him once her fight was over. She had imagined herself walking by his side, sharing his bed as well as his dreams in the Fade. It had been a wonderful fantasy that kept her going despite all her injuries, the sleep deprivation and the lurking horror that was Corypheus. Dreaming of her future with Solas had been something to look forward.
But now…
Now, he was gone and she could feel his absence like an abyss in her heart, a dark spot in her mind. He had become such an integral part of her life in such a short time that she couldn’t think of a future without him.
The worst part though was that he had left without a word. After what had happened between them in Crestwood, after he had taken her vallaslin, he had promised to talk to her. To explain why he didn’t want her. As it turned out he never intended to say crap about any of it.
May the Dread Wolf take him, she thought and clenched her fists.
“You gotta stop that, y’know.”
That was Sera’s voice. Alis turned around in surprise and found her friend standing at the top of the stairs, her arms crossed in front of her chest. She hadn’t heard her come in.
“Stop what, exactly?” Alis asked.
“Being all sad”, Sera said with a beaten look upon her face. “Makes me sad, too. But we shouldn’t feel sad, right, after defeating Coryphisus and everything?”
“Yeah,” she replied slowly. “Maybe ...”
Sera came closer and stopped in the doorway as if she was unsure if she could join Alis out on the balcony. Encouraging her friend with a wave of her hand, Alis said: “Come here. Let’s hang out for a bit.”
The younger elf stepped out onto the balcony, taking in the panorama of the Frostback mountains. The sun was nothing more than a golden glimmer in the distance, as the dark of the night slowly covered the world like a blanket with thousands of stars to illuminate the sky. “Woah,” the younger said. “It’s quite the view.”
"Yes, it is."
Sera turned to look at the Inquisitor. Suddenly, her eyes seemed darker than usual. Alis knew that look. There was something gloomy on Sera’s mind and she would need to get it out of her system before she could return to her playful self.
“Care to share your thoughts with me?”, Alis asked encouragingly.
Sera’s lips twitched. For a moment, Alis thought her friend would shake her head and pretend that everything was alright. Instead, Sera gestured towards her face. “He did that, didn’t he?”
It took her a moment to realize what her friend meant. Slowly, Alis brought her hand – the one without the anchor – up to her face. Her fingers traced the parts of her skin where June’s blood writing used to be. Not that her skin felt different. It was warm and soft and smooth as usual, except maybe for the scar under her left eye. Sometimes, she simply forgot it was no longer there.
“Yes, he did,” she said at last. “He told me what the markings meant and I allowed him to remove it with a spell.”
“Didn’t know it’s possible” Sera mused. “Removing the Dalish ink stuff, I mean.”
“The vallaslin” she corrected, more out of habit than real interest in being right. “Yeah, me too.”
“Why did you do it?”
Alis blinked. She’d expected her friend to ask her how Solas had removed the vallaslin or why he made the offer in the first place. But she was wrong about Sera – again – and she was glad about it. It felt good to have someone care about her most of all things.
“Getting the vallaslin is considered as a rite of passage among the Dalish,” she explained and noticed the undertone of sadness in her own voice. “When it was time for me to get mine, I didn’t think as long about it as some of the others. I told our keeper to give me the markings of June because I recognized myself in him. He's a practical god, a god of the people. Not unlike Andraste, I suppose. Anyway, Deshanna gave me my vallaslin and I wore it like a piece of clothing. After a time, I forgot how my face looked like without it. My vallaslin marked me as Dalish and I was proud to be one of them.
But when I arrived in Haven and joined the Inquisition, I felt the need to become … well, more. People had begun to form this mental image of me that had nothing to do with who I really was. It gave me nightmares, even thinking about it. How could I be more to these people than I was?”
Her heart ached, as she thought about Solas. He, too, had seen so much more in her than an ordinary woman, and through him, she had discovered that she was more than a Dalish elf. More than she could ever have imagined. A champion of her people, all of them.
“You have a rare and marvelous spirit. In another world …”
Alis took in a long breath, then sighed deeply. “When Solas offered to take the vallaslin away, I didn’t do it to abandon my people. That would have been a foolish notion. No, in removing the blood writing, I hoped that I might become the woman I needed to be in order to defeat Corypheus.”
“So, you didn’t stop being Dalish after all?”, Sera asked.
“No.” Alis tried to smile but failed miserably. “I could never do that. They made me who I am and I’ll be forever thankful for that.”
Sera’s gaze flicked from Alis’s face to her own hands. “Wish I would feel the same way about Lady Emmald”, she said in a low voice. “Not so much to be proud of there, though.”
Alis took Sera’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Those days are gone”, she said. “We have changed, both of us. We are no longer who we used to be. You are not the street urchin any longer, just like I’m no longer the first to my clan’s keeper. We’re more than we were, stronger.”
“You’re right,” Sera said, returning to her usual glee. “Let ’em think we’re still weak and elfy or whatever. We are better, you and I. Because of us, no one else.”
“Because of us.”
“Know what’s weird?” Sera looked puzzled. “I came over here to cheer you up, but instead you’re treating me all friendly and stuff. Don’t know how that happened, really.”
Alis laughed. “That’s what friends are for, Sera. We cheer each other up.”
“I guess you’re right.” Sera scratched her head, leaving her hair in a bigger mess than before. After all this time with the Inquisition, she still wasn’t used to having someone to share her feelings with. Maybe she would never be perfectly comfortable talking about herself.
“I thought the inky stuff looked nice on you”, Sera said after a short silence. “Pretty rad, to be honest.”
Alis smiled sardonically. “It’s not made of ink, you know that, don’t you?”
“Sure.” Sera snickered. “I just don’t care.”
“I should have expected that,” Alis replied. “Anyway, thank you.”
Another silence fell between, but it was less heavy than before. They simply enjoyed each other’s company. And what unlike company it was. A Dalish woman bonding with a city elf over the cruelty of life. The two of them made have begun their lives under completely different circumstances, but in the end, they had made a deeper connection than any Dalish or city elf might think possible.
“His Elfiness never deserved you, y’know”, Sera said finally.
Alis stirred. The seriousness in Sera’s voice startled her. “What...?”
“Don’t know what you saw in him, to be honest. He made my head hurt with all his Fade talk. But it seemed like he appreciated you. Could see it in his eyes when he looked at you. But if he wanted you so badly, he should’ve treated you better. I hope he feels ridiculous for leaving you behind.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “Thanks for saying that, Sera.”
“You said it yourself,” she replied. “Friends say nice things to make each other feel good.”
“Now, you’re ruining it”, Alis said.
Sera chuckled. “Alright, I shut it then. All I’m sayin’ is, you’re fine as you are. And if we happen to meet His Elfiness again, you can count on me to put some arrows in his smug face. If you like.”
“That's very nice of you, Sera, but I hope that won’t be necessary.”
“As you wish,” her friend said and made an imitation of herself drawing an arrow from her quiver. “But if you change your mind, let me know, Inquisitor. I'll take him down before he knows what hit him."
Unwillingly, a broad smile spread across Alis’s face. When she had first met Sera, her dismissal of the Dalish culture had hit her like a kick to the stomach. It had taken time to understand Sera’s point of view. Now she wondered why she had been so close-minded. There were countless elves like Sera, trying to get by. For most Dalish they were nothing more than animals, too weak to stand against their shemlen overlords and for the longest time, Alis had shared their opinion. But thanks to Sera, she had come to see the error of her ways. The city elves were deserving of her help and support. And maybe, with time and a lot of careful diplomacy, she might bring the remaining Dalish to see them as their kin again.
Imagine the things we could accomplish, she thought and looked at Sera. Together.
In that moment, she realized that she might have grown to fill the role of Inquisitor, but there were still parts of her that were left unchanged. She was a resourceful woman, after all. She was a force to be reckoned with. It was best she used her powers to change the world for the better. Because no matter how terrible the past was or how many people she’d lost, the future was something she could still take control over.
A wave of warm energy washed over her. She was hurting, but she was alive. All she needed to do was take the next step, and the next and the next, until she had formed a new life for herself. Until then, she would see to it that the Inquisition continued to help people across Thedas as best it could.
Her new-found confidence seemed to be showing because Sera suddenly raised her eyebrows.
“You’re alright?” she asked in a baffled tone.
“I’m fine,” she said and meant it. “Or at least, I will be.”
Sera’s face lit up. “That’s good. Fine is always good.”
“It is.”
“So, where you gonna go, now that Coryphinas is gone?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go back to the Free Marches,” Alis said. “Deshanna, my clan's keeper, holds a seat on the council of Wycome now. It would be a good place to start over.” She turned to Sera. “When I go, would you want to come along?”
A bright smile tugged at Sera's lips. “Anytime, Inquisitor. Anytime.”
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askmidam · 4 years
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Interlude IV
“I thought you were against celebrating Thanksgiving,” Michael deadpanned, watching Adam hurry around their kitchen.
“I am,” Adam explained, “Trust me, I am...but I was against the idea of my family until my mom’s family showed up. Them being here, it brings me closer to her.”
Michael smiled softly, just nodding, “What can I do to help?”
“Uh…” Adam trailed off, thinking, “We’re making pies, my grandfather is doing the turkey and stuff at home, it’s always been a tradition that he did that. Joy and Martin are coming too, since they don’t really have their parents anymore...most of my friends are coming, actually, except Jared.”
Michael swallowed, “I am still trying to locate him.”
“I know, you’re doing your best,” Adam smiled, kissing him on the cheek as he walked passed, making the guilt in Michael’s chest swarm around a little more.
“So who all is coming?” Michael changed the subject quickly.
“My grandpa, my grandma, my Uncle Keith, my Aunt Ellie, my two cousins, Lorie and Lorna, Lorna’s boyfriend, Mark, Lorie’s girlfriend, Elena…” Adam trailed off, trying to think, “Like I said, Martin, Joy, Ryka...Dawson,” he added, clearing his throat.
Michael tensed slightly, but didn’t say anything. Adam seemed stressed enough, he didn’t need Michael’s weird stomach feeling bothering him about Dawson.
“This will be good for you,” Michael said quietly, “Having a good family around.”
Adam smiled softly, finally stopping his running around for a minute and wrapped his arms around Michael’s neck, “My family is you...you’re the one who’s been in my life and been there for me the longest, Mike.”
Michael leaned down, pressing his lips against Adam’s.
Adam pulled away after a few seconds, “Okay, no distracting me, help me with this pie crust, halo.”
                                                        …
Dawson arrived first.
Of course he did.
Well, technically he arrived with Ryka, but that was beside the point.
He was still the first person to walk through the door, carrying a bowl of what Michael considered to look like chunks of blood.
Adam explained it was cranberry sauce and needed to go in the fridge until they ate.
Dawson sat on the couch like he owned the place and it annoyed Michael to no end as he sat there watching the “football” and drinking a beer.
“Two’s his limit,” Ryka explained as she helped Adam in the kitchen, “I’m putting him on a limit.”
“Joy said he had a problem with alcohol after…” Adam trailed off.
“It’s not your fault,” Ryka said quickly, “At all. Don’t think it is. People deal with grief in different ways.”
Adam just swallowed, nodding. He smiled at Michael weakly, where he was hovering in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, watching Dawson, “Hey, Mike, I’m pretty sure my granddad just pulled in, wanna help me carry some stuff inside?”
“Yes,” Michael said immediately, following him out the side door.
                                                     …
“Adam!” his grandfather, Kate’s father, James, called, waving as he stood beside his grandmother, Katherine, “Bring you and your muscles over here, we need some help.”
Adam chuckled, walking over with Michael, “Granddad, Grandma, this is my boyfriend, Michael.”
Boyfriend.
Michael had never thought of himself as a boyfriend before.
Of course, he and Adam were together. They’d been together for a thousand years but now they were together romantically by human standards.
He was a boyfriend. 
Adam was his boyfriend.
“Well, good to meet you, Mike,” Katherine patted him on the arm.
“You the one who has been taking care of our boy?” James asked.
“Yes, sir,” Michael nodded, “I will do so everyday of my life.”
“He’s, uh…” Adam trailed off when he saw James and Katherine staring at him, “Formal.”
“Ah,” James nodded, “Mormon, then.”
Adam covered up his laughter with a cough.
Michael mouthed the word mormon in confusion but was quickly cut off by James shoving a huge pan into his arms.
“Take that on inside for me, Mike,” James clapped him on the shoulder, “I need to talk to Adam for a minute alone.”
Michael stared at Adam for a moment who nodded in encouragement, a smile on his face. He smiled back before turning and going inside the house, looking over his shoulder a few times as he did. 
When he looked back, James had pulled Adam into a tight hug.
                                                              …
“My boy,” James said quietly, hugging Adam tightly.
Adam hugged him back, not saying anything. His grandparents had always lived too far away to be there for him when he was younger and his mom was working all the time, but they were still his grandparents, the only ones he had ever even met. He got to spend summers with them every year with Martin and Joy sometimes tagging along, it was always so peaceful with them.
“That man who took you is lucky they can’t find him,” James said, pulling away and touching the side of Adam’s face, “I’d kill the son of a bitch myself.”
Oh yeah.
The cover story.
The lie.
Adam smiled softly, “Don’t worry, grandpa, Michael is protecting me...and I’m pretty good at protecting myself.”
“Let’s not get so serious so quick,” Katherine said quickly, pulling Adam into a hug as well, “It’s a happy day, we’re all together again.”
Adam smiled, hugging her back just as tightly.
“So,” Katherine pulled away, her hands on his shoulders, “Tell me about Michael.”
                                                           …
“Stop spying,” Joy elbowed Michael, having snuck up on him.
Michael glared at them, seeing Martin standing beside his cousin, hands stuffed in his pockets.
“It’s his grandparents, we used to stay with them every summer when we were younger, chill, angel boy,” Martin rolled his eyes, “Come help us set up the table.”
Michael huffed and followed them.
“Not like they’re from the damn Visit or anything,” Martin scoffed.
“What is the Visit?” Michael looked confused, following after the cousins.
                                                           …
“Here, Mike, sit by me,” Adam said quickly, grabbing his hand and pulling him down to sit at the table with him.
Michael smiled softly, continuing to hold his hand under the table.
“Should we...say a prayer-” James started.
“Nope,” Adam said quickly, causing everyone to look up at him, “Everyone dig in.”
Everyone went silent.
“What?” Adam asked, “Our house, our rules.”
“I’m an atheist anyways,” Lorie shrugged, starting to eat as well.
Michael went to say something, but thought better of it.
“Good enough for me, let’s dig in,” Adam’s uncle, Keith, said simply.
                                                       …
“What are they doing?” Michael peered out the window.
“Football,” Martin said simply, wincing when Joy tackled Adam to the ground, “Joy always wins.”
“He won’t be hurt, will he?” Michael asked quickly.
“Well, you can just heal him if he does, right, angel?” Martin asked, taking a long drink of beer.
Michael narrowed his eyes, “I sense you have a problem.”
“Yeah, no shit,” Martin scoffed, “Dude, you’re an angel of the lord and you’re banging my best friend. This group doesn’t have the best experiences with God and stuff, because he hasn’t been helping us out much.”
“Yes, well, my Father never helped me out much either,” Michael snapped, continuing to watch out the window. He quickly leaned down and picked up Aira when she brushed against his legs, holding her close to his chest.
“He left Adam and I to rot in Hell for ten human years,” Michael told Martin softly, petting Aira’s head, “I have lost faith in him as well, you aren’t alone there.”
Martin stayed silent.
“And I am not banging Adam, we are boyfriends,” Michael added, “And I love him very much.”
And maybe he said it just a little louder, knowing Dawson was helping clean up in the kitchen.
But it made the weird feeling in his stomach feel a little better.
                                                           …
Adam closed the door once the last of his family left, letting out a sigh of relief. He rested his forehead on the cool door for a moment, finally letting out a breath he didn’t know he was really holding.
It had actually went well.
He felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around his waist and he sighed again, leaning back against Michael.
“I am happy you were happy with your family,” Michael told him softly, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.
Adam relaxed a little, “Me too...it was actually nice. They loved you too.”
“I’m glad,” Michael added, “But I am tired and would like to head up to bed. Will you join me?”
“Yeah,” Adam nodded, “Yeah, I will, Mike.”
                                                              …
Adam’s family’s FCs, they’ll be added to the character page tomorrow probably:
Cloris Leachman - Adam’s grandmother, Katherine Scott Glenn - Adam’s grandfather, James Kellan Lutz - Adam’s uncle (Kate’s younger brother), Keith Rebecca Ferguson - Adam’s aunt, Ellie Dakota Fanning - Adam’s cousin, Lorie Diana Silvers - Lorie’s girlfriend, Elena Elle Fanning - Adam’s cousin, Lorna Beau Mirchoff - Lorna’s boyfriend, Mark
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mamashitty · 5 years
Text
Samwell Elementary Chapter 11
Title: Samwell Elementary Fandom: Check, Please! Word Count: 2,291 Ship: Zimbits Chapter: 11 Previous Chapters: tumblr & ao3 Blurb: Eric goes home for Thanksgiving. WARNING: This chapter does deal with the death of a minor character. The death occurred over the summer, before this story started.
Eric -sends a picture of a his mama’s kitchen full of pies and other baked goods-
dat butt tho Wow. That is a lot of pie. You Bittles go all out, eh?
Eric Mama and I both might be stress baking. I’m not sure stress baking is exactly the right word. Sad-baking? Nostalgibaking? Memorybaking?
dat butt tho Do you need to talk about it at all? Shitty said this is your family’s first Thanksgiving without your Moomaw?
Eric You are too sweet, Jack. No, no. Spend time with Maisie. I will be fine.
Except Eric had not been fine when he sent that text message a couple of hours earlier and he is not fine now. There is a weight of sadness hanging over everyone. Usually, his aunts, uncles, and cousins stay late into the night for Thanksgiving. MooMaw was always at the center of it, no one really wanting to be the first to leave until she did. This year it was different. Aunts began arriving early like always. Eric and Mama had been up for hours baking and cooking. They always baked and cooked a lot for Holidays, but usually, MooMaw would arrive earlier than anyone else and help them out. She would take charge of the kitchen, and there would be laughter and loud voices. This year, everything i subdued. Oh, laughter does escape people and then gets picked up by others, but it never lasts long. Sadness and a strange sense of emptiness, of the sudden realization that MooMaw’s barking laugh is missing.
Eric knows it is rude of him to think but he is relieved when people leave earlier than normal. He knows that MooMaw would not approve of it, that she would chide everyone for behaving as they were. Mama tried to bring in more lightness and laughter into the day, and Eric tried to help her, but it was difficult and draining. And, Eric is just glad, that it is now nine in the evening and the only people in the house are his Mama and Coach. Eric helps them clean up, and he feels a tightness in his throat. He can see his Mama’s shoulders shaking and he looks away when Coach slips an arm around her, he tries not to listen to their murmurs, and he tries to forget the loud sob his Mama lets escape before she manages to stifle it.
“Dicky, we are going to bed now,” Coach says.
Eric swallows the lump in his throat, and he knows his voice sounds falsely bright. Too bright. “Y’all have a good night,” and he listens as his parents retreat to their bedroom. He stays in the kitchen, continues to finish the cleaning up. He is not sure what he is going to do for the rest of the night. Maybe settle in his childhood bedroom, open his laptop, and binge-watch something. He makes no move to leave the kitchen though. His legs, they feel strangely frozen in place. Then, he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket, and he realizes someone is calling him. Eric fishes his phone out and stares for at it for a second before he answers.
“Jack?” He realizes his voice sounds funny, strained like he is fighting back tears. And he realizes, he is. He is not sure if this fresh onslaught of emotion has to do with his MooMaw or if it is just because Jack is calling him. He realizes after he answers, that they have never spoken on the phone before.
“Eric? Hey, eh.. is this a bad time?” Eric feels his shoulders start to relax once he hears Jack’s voice. Deep like he remembers, but different because voices always sound a little different over the phone. Eric is shaking his head, and he realizes after a beat that Jack can’t see him doing that.
“No, no. Not a bad time at all,” Eric says, as he flicks off the kitchen light and moves towards his bedroom. “I just finished cleaning up the kitchen. Everyone left an hour or so ago. Mama and Coach are in bed,” and Eric is dimly aware that he might be rambling.
“Everyone is gone or in bed here too,” Jack replies, and Eric smiles. He can tell it is a little thing, probably barely a smile, but he knows it is there.
Eric pushes the door open to his bedroom and flicks on the light with his free hand. Then he closes the door before settling down onto his bed.
“How was your day, Jack?” Eric asks because he does not want Jack to ask how his day was. He is worried he might prattle on too much about his sadness, and how weird everything was today. How he feels like he did not try hard enough to make everyone feel comfortable enough in their grief. He feels he should have made space for that, for himself, and for everyone. But it was difficult and Eric knows he was not ready to do that even if he thinks MooMaw would have wanted someone to do that.
“Today was good,” Jack replies, and Eric can hear him moving around on the phone. He wonders where Jack is. Wonders, briefly and then forces himself to stop, if Jack is in his bed. As much as he wants to picture Jack in bed, he also does not. “I always go to Camilla’s to celebrate American Thanksgiving with her family and Maisie. Maisie helped bake the pie we ate,” Jack says, and Eric can picture the soft smile that he is positive he can hear over the phone.
“What kind of pie did she bake?” Eric asks, moving so that he is resting his back against the headboard, his legs spread out comfortably in front of him.
“Apple. Because Apple is her favorite this week. That is what she said, anyway.” Jack says, finishing with a chuckle.
“Oh Lord, I can just imagine Maisie saying that,” Eric says, a quiet laugh of his own escaping him. “What else did y’all eat?”
He hears another soft chuckle escape Jack, and Eric wonders for a second if Jack is going to brush off the question or not. But, Jack answers, and Eric closes his eyes as he listens to Jack. He tries to picture what Jack looks like at this moment, what facial expressions he is making as he talks. Eric asks questions every so often, and Jack answers them and Eric is unsure of how long Jack talks about food and then dinner conversation and more of Maisie’s antics. Eric just knows that he feels relaxed, and maybe not exactly happy, but more content than he has been all day. And then…
“So, eh how was your day, Eric?” Jack asks, and Eric sighs.
“It… it was rough,” Eric begins, surprising himself that he did not deflect the question. “I think we all wanted to act like nothing had changed, to act as if MooMaw was still here, but.. it was too hard. MooMaw was always the first to arrive, and no one would leave until she mentioned she was going to head home, and then it would take an hour more before she actually left.” Eric is unsurprised to feel tears in his eyes. He had cried a lot over the summer when MooMaw first passed, and Trevor had done his best to be there for Eric, but Eric had mostly gone to Lardo and Shitty for comfort. Being back home, the first time since the funeral, was hard. And this being the first holiday without her, even harder still.
“I missed her laughter. I missed her presence in the kitchen. Mama and I got up as early as we always do, and I kept expecting MooMaw to show up when she usually does… or did,” Eric gives a shuddery breath. “I’m sorry, Jack. Prattling on about this…”
“Bitty, keep prattling on,” Jack says, before adding. “If you want or need to… or I could go back to talking about my day?” Jack offers.
Jack is giving Eric an out and Eric surprises himself by not taking it. Instead, he closes his eyes for a second, and sighs maybe just a little dramatically, before he opens his eyes again and stares up at his ceiling.
“Okay,” Eric says, “I do want to talk.”
“Okay,” Jack replies.
And Eric keeps his gaze on the ceiling as he talks. His rambling has no real direction. He finds himself first talking about waking up this morning, and padding into the kitchen. How he had wanted to beat his Mama to it, in order to get coffee and breakfast ready for her. His Mama had already been in the kitchen though and had made too big of a breakfast for the three of them. Then he shifts to talking about all the times he helped MooMaw cook or bake things. Then to the sound of MooMaw’s laughter, of her quick wit. Of how feisty she was and so full of love. He talks about the handwritten cookbook she had left him, full of recipes they had baked together and some that she had guarded all her life, with a wink and a promise that one day she would share the recipes with him. Eric goes from crying, usually softly, but an occasional sob does escape him. He finds himself laughing sometimes too, and he dimly worries about his parents hearing but they never say anything. He forgets, as he stares up at the ceiling and talks, that he is in his childhood home. That Jack is not next to him, but states away, listening to him talk. Jack has not interrupted him, but he does respond sometimes. There’s quiet laughter at some of the funny stories that Eric shares, and whispered condolences or questions that prompt Eric to talk even more. Jack seems to instinctively know what Eric needs to hear.
And Eric he really feels like Jack is truly listening to him, that he wants to, and that he cares. Sometimes, Eric is not sure if the tears he is crying are just for MooMaw or this strange happiness he feels in talking to Jack like this, in opening up to him so much. He knows this is the most they have ever talked. He feels that they have crossed some line, some threshold tonight. He wonders, briefly, if Jack is thinking and feeling the same but his thoughts go back to MooMaw and he continues to share stories, and his heart opens. He feels a warmth that had been missing all day.
Eric sighs, “I wish I had had the courage to share some of these stories with my family. I think it could have done us all some good, to talk like this. But… but we all held it in,” Eric is not sure if what he is saying, or trying to say, makes much sense.
“I am glad you could talk to me about it, Bitty.” Jack says gently.
“Thank you for listening,” Eric replies, a smile playing on his lips.
“I will always be here to listen, Bud. We are friends, right?” Jack asks, and Eric hears the vulnerability in it. His ears and heart lingering on the word ‘friends’ and before that ‘Bud’. The way Jack had said it, it had sounded almost like a term of endearment. His heart did something funny at it, soared a little. He latched onto the friends' bit, because that was easier to hold onto, and did not cause his heart to thud as hard. Friends, he could and would take that even if he wanted more. His lips were still turned into a smile, or maybe they had turned into a new smile.
He sighed before he could stop himself, a pleasant little sigh. “Yeah, we are friends. Yanno that means you can talk to me too if you ever need to? That I’m always here to listen too.” Eric says, trying to keep the like-sick simper out of his voice, and doubting he did.
He hears Jack inhale a breath and he waits.
“I was nodding before I remembered you could not see it,” Jack explains, laughing and the laugh sounds embarrassed. Eric smirks, amused. “But, yes. Friends... and I will talk to you if I need to.”
“Friends,” Eric repeats and for some reason, he feels like a little kid. He feels too giddy at the fact they had just confirmed they were friends as if their actions these last few months had not been building up to this. As if Eric does not want them to keep building up to something else. He opens his mouth to say something, his brain not quite caught up to it, when he hears Jack yawn and Eric realizes how late it must be. His phone suddenly feels too warm against his face. His own eyes feel heavy, and soon he is yawning in response to Jack.
“It is past your bedtime, Mr. Zimmermann,” Eric gently teases.
“It is, “Jack hums in agreement, but he sounds sleepy all of a sudden.
“Goodnight, Jack. And thanks again,” he says, softly.
“Goodnight, Eric.” Comes the reply.
Silence stretches for a few seconds but neither he nor Jack disconnects the call. The repeat goodnight a couple more times before Jack counts down and then they both hang up just after he reaches three. Eric, he feels happier than he has since he landed in Georgia. He makes the mental note to try and share some of the stories he shared with Jack with his Mama in the morning. He just manages to reach over to plug his phone in, before he falls asleep.
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