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ncityrave · 3 years ago

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Adore You

Pairing: Mark Lee x Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: College!AU, College Student!Mark, College Student!Reader, established relationship, fluff, angst if you squint, inspired by Harry's Styles's song Adore You (highly recommend listening to the song while reading the fic!)

Synopsis: Finals week, stress, listening to Harry Styles, and a very loving and supportive (and lonely) Mark Lee.

Warnings: None that I could think of except this may make you wish this happened in real life. Y/N and Mark laugh a lot.

Word Count: 2.2k

Masterlist

Whoever said college would be the best four years of your life needed a wake up call - and fast.

For the past month, you had been struggling with the demands of your multiple classes. Finals week had brought in school work upon school work; your color-coded agenda was starting to look like a unicorn had regurgitated all over your planner and you could no longer count on your hands - and feet! - the amount of cups of coffee you had consumed just to get stuff done and passed on time. You were a wreck, to say the least. Summer break was just around the corner and this was the last stretch, but you wanted to get a chance to not have your life revolve around school for at least an entire day.

On top of it all, you hadn’t been able to spend any time with Mark, who was equally busy dealing with his own set of final requirements. Of course you understood that your busy schedules meant very limited time with each other, or to do any leisure activity for that matter, but that didn’t mean you didn't miss having him by your side.

As you enter your dorm room, a feeling of comfort and familiarity fills your mind and body. After an entire day of lectures and studying, the room you had called your home for the last 3 years provided some degree of refuge from the demands and tasks you had left on campus. Placing your shoes neatly on your rack and setting your heavy backpack at the side of the cabinet, you take in the quietness of your dorm. Hoping that even for 5 minutes, you could pretend that you weren't a student who still had a long list of tasks to complete.

Treading to your kitchen to make yourself a serving of ramen - the go-to dinner choice given your lack of time to come up with anything that could even be considered a culinary masterpiece - you start making a mental list of all the things you’re excited for when you finally get extra time on your hands.

Going home. Café trips that don’t involve working. Trying out some graphic design classes. Re-watching Bojack Horseman.

While searching through your stack of pans and pots, a sudden ringing resonates from your phone. Looking over at the screen, you see that Mark was phoning you.

Weird, you think to yourself. He’s supposed to be working on a project right now.

“Hello?” You hear Mark gasp, at that your senses heighten.

“Y/N, I need...I need you to come here. It’s an emergency.”

At the mention of “emergency”, you bolted to your door. Rushing to take all the essentials with you - your keys, wallet, I.D. Were you missing something?

“Why? What’s wrong?” you exclaim into the phone.

He lets out a groan - was he in pain? Worries started filling your head, every possible worst case scenario found itself at the forefront of your mind. This week couldn't possibly get any worse.

“It’s just that I’m really really really really lonely.”

Lonely. That made you pause on the spot.

“You made me worry!” you all but scream into the phone. Out of frustration, you drop all the things you had gathered into your arms onto the floor. Pinching the bridge of your nose and letting out an exasperated sigh, you say to him, “Don’t do that!”

“I’m not lying though!” he whines back and even if you can’t see him you know he’s pouting the way he always does when he’s trying to get on your good side.

“Come on, please. I’m really lonely and I miss you and we literally live 5 minutes away from each other but I haven’t seen you in almost a week. Is it too much to ask my lovely partner to just come over and spend time with me,” he replies, voice slightly hushing in fear that he might have pissed you off. “Or! I could come over, whichever you like.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be working on something right now?” you ask him.

“The project conveniently got pushed back by a week. Promise! You can stay here for at most an hour. I need to be surrounded by something other than assignments and take-home tests. Pleeeeease.”

Looking back at the pile of textbooks and notebooks on your desk, you ponder over the idea. Right now, you knew you weren’t in the right headspace to face all of that head-on; maybe spending some time off with Mark would help. Your lips purse in contemplation. An hour off wouldn't hurt

“So...what is it?” Mark says into the phone.

“Okay,” you sigh. “I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

“Yoo!” he squeals back. “I cleaned up, don’t worry. I felt really bad giving you that old blanket the last time you were here.”

“There were at least 15 different types of undiscovered viruses on that blanket, so thank you for the effort,” you retort. He gasps at your comment, feigning offense.

“Hey, not cool. I said old blanket - not contagious.”

Making your way to Mark’s apartment, you couldn’t help but notice all the other students who were either rushing to the library in hopes of securing a corner to study in or were just coming back from a lecture. It made you anxious, but you had to remind yourself that a short break wasn’t something you needed to be guilty over.

Quickly finding your way at the doors of Mark’s complex, you text him a quick “I’m here” before entering the building and making your way to his unit. The old, creaky staircase wobbled and groaned under your feet. Climbing up the flight of stairs to the fourth floor, you catch a multitude of sounds emanating from the other tenants’ rooms. The walls here really were thin.

As you reach his unit, you hear the faint sound of music seeping through the slit under the door and smell - garlic?

Since when did Mark cook?

You knock on the door, calling out a faint “I’m here.”

“Hold on!” you hear from inside. Clanging and banging sounds follow-suit. You couldn’t help but giggle, knowing very well that he was struggling in the kitchen as we speak. The door swings open and Mark appears - apron skewed, sweaty and panting with what seemed like tomato sauce smudged on his eyebrow.

“I didn’t know you were interested in applying for Worst Cooks in America.” His eyes follow you as you step inside.

“Cooking isn’t my strong suit, okay, and you know it,” he huffs back.

“You called me over here to hang out. If you wanted to eat, I could’ve always stopped by that Filipino restaurant you like before coming here,” you smile up at him, setting down your bag on his couch.

“I mean, yeah. But that wouldn’t be romantic now, would it?” he replies, making his way towards your frame, slowly starting to wrap his arms around your shoulders.

“You’re saying that Tito Emmanuel’s empanadas and maruyas aren’t romantic?” you mumble into his chest.

“Listen, do you want to try what I made for you or not?” he mumbles into your hair. Looking up at him, you see him fashioning a stern expression on his face, attempting to guilt-trip you. Wiggling around his hold, you wrap your own arms around him.

“Okay, yeah. I bet it’s better than Tito’s empanadas.” At your comment, Mark couldn’t help but laugh.

“I asked you if you wanted to try out the food I made, I never said anything about it being that good, though. That’s on you.” Mark starts shuffling your intertwined bodies into the kitchen and your nose is immediately hit with the smell of garlic, onions, and whatever ingredients he decided to include in his concoction. The low hum from his speakers fills the room with music and you can’t help but hum along.

“I found this recipe off of BuzzFeed. The article read ‘32 Recipes So Easy Even Mark Lee Could Do It’.”

“That sounds oddly specific,” you laugh out loud.

“When I told you that conspiracy theory that Google spies on us through our phones, I wasn’t lying,” he replies defensively, and you couldn't help but laugh even louder

“You’re so weird,” you say, slightly pushing him away from you.

“No, no, no, come back. I asked Jaemin to help me with this,” he says, pulling you back into him. With one hand over your shoulder and another slowly stirring at the noodles he had just started cooking, the two of you simply fold into each other. ‘At peace’ was an understatement to how you were feeling at the moment.

For a while, you two stay like that - arms around each other, silent, and content. It was moments like this that made you happy to have found someone like Mark in your life; someone who managed to make even your worst days feel a little more bearable.

Through the speakers, you can hear the instrumentals to Adore You, and start swaying along to the rhythm. His body joins yours, still stirring the noodles around.

“Walk in your rainbow paradise,” you sing along.

“Paradise,” Mark sings back in an exaggerated, high-pitched voice. His eyes crinkle as he hears you let out yet another laugh. The two of you start swaying along to the song and in that moment you thought of nothing but the moment, the song, the ambience, and him. Your beloved, Mark.

“You don't have to say you love me,” you sing along.

“I love you,” Mark replies, eyes on you.

“You don't have to say nothing.” Mark sets down the wooden spoon, hands coming down to hold onto your waist, pulling you in even closer to him.

“Nothing.” At that, you couldn't help but smile even wider up at him.

“You don't have to say you're mine,” you hum.

It's low, but you hear the faintest “I’m yours” slip from his lips as he lifts you by your waist and into the air. The last thing you were expecting was to be flung over his shoulder as he carried you around his kitchen. A combination of a shriek and booming laugh erupts from your chest at the sudden position you found yourself in.

“Honey!”

“Mark!”

You two say simultaneously. While he’s busy trying not to drop you, you were laughing uncontrollably at how your boyfriend had just suddenly launched you into the air and was now carrying you around his small kitchen. Mark gently places you back down, taking your hand in his and spinning you around before dramatically dipping you. The giggles coming from you would not stop as he continued at his attempt to engage you in what could only be called a sorry excuse for a ballroom dance routine.

“You don't have to say you love me, I just wanna tell you something. Lately you've been on my mind,” he sings along. A hand had found its way to your hip, another lifting your arm as the two of you danced around the kitchen island. As the two of you make your way to where the speakers were placed, he reaches down to turn up the volume and the room fills with the sound of Harry Styles’s voice.

“I’d walk through fire for you, just let me adore you like it's the only thing I'll ever do,” he continues as he looks down at you, admiring how beautiful you look smiling up at him with so much adoration, affection, and love. In that moment, he couldn't express how lucky he felt to have found someone like you in his brief lifetime. To him, your presence was a true testament to the existence of Heaven. The creation of someone like you couldn't just be a mere coincidence in the workings of the universe, there had to be some divine intervention involved.

For the rest of the song, you two find yourself wrapped around each other. Allowing the music, aroma of the food, and each other’s company to overtake your senses. There was no school tomorrow, no exams for the next week, no lectures, no hours of studying. Just you and Mark - and, well, Harry Styles.

As the song comes to an end, you pull back from Mark and snuggle closely into his chest.

“Thank you.” He moves back slightly to cup your cheeks in both hands, tilting your head slightly to rub his nose against yours.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” you ask.

“Nothing, just wanted to be cheesy.”

A chuckle bursts through your lips as you lean in to gently leave a peck on his soft, red ones. “You smell like garlic,” you tell him.

He moves back away from you, cupping a hand over his mouth to check if he did indeed smell like garlic. “Way to ruin the moment, dude,” he whines. You make your way back to him and continue cuddling into his chest. Another random song starts playing over the speakers, the food remains cooking on the stove, and this precious moment may come to an end very soon - but you could care less about that now that you were finally able to spend some time with Mark.

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lilyharvord · 2 years ago

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Hiii 🙂I know you're really busy right now, so you don't have to answer if you don´t want to, but i still wanted to ask this question. What are your top 5 favorite RQ ships?

OOF this question is like telling a kid in a candy store that they get to pick 5 candies and every single one is amazing and they can pick imaginary candies too. But alright I'll try.

MARECAL (period. No one else comes close. They are literally lapping people in Mario Cart and finishing the race before any of the other ships even leave the starting line. I used to hate the "prince falls in love with the commoner" trope/ship UNTIL these two just did it so stupidly well. You think I'm kidding but I actually used to pull stars on reviews if authors used it, now I'm using it in my own damn trilogy because I want to write my own version of Marecal.)

Fade (these two hold a special place in my heart. As time goes on, they grown on me more and more. The more I mature and have my own relationships, the more I realize I want what they had. They appear a lot in my modern fics where they get to stay together forever because it's what they both deserve)

Evalane (these two shook me to my core. I realized my sexuality as a bi woman right about the time King's Cage came out and these two got to have page time. I remember reading about them and crying a little bit under the covers of my bed because I felt so closely connected to Evangeline and her struggle. They come in hot at number 3 because I don't like that they didn't get as much page time as I would have liked, and I'm scared to write them because that involves looking in at myself as bisexual woman and exploring a part of myself that I am still to this day struggling with.)

GisaxCameron (this is my unicorn ship. I love the idea of these two. They give me sun and moon vibes and I LOVE that for them. I also hate the Victoria didn't give it to us, when it was clearly right there. They get number 4 cause they're not canon and we did not get enough Cameron for me to really write about her in love with another young woman.)

Elara and a bed of nails? a torture room? a cold, decrepit grave? eternal suffering? I'm just kidding. Well, not really, but in all seriousness... Number 5 is Maven and Thomas. NOW before you all jump my dick and come for me screaming about the fact that I NEVER write about Maven and I NEVER talk about him and "oh my god lily for real? You picked the bury your gays ship?" I will say that this ship has so much potential and if I actually find the will to continue writing Song of the Pheonix you will get my full digest on them and how Elara destroying Maven's love for Thomas lead to his inherent need to latch onto Mare, and how that "love" turned into an obsession with wanting to get what he had with Thomas back. Unfortunately, I think I have lost the will with SotP but I may yet find it again.

#(*ask lily*)#(*shut up lily*)#red queen #glass sword #war storm #broken throne #post broken throne #(*lily talks heroes and villains*)#marecal #fade #evangeline samos #elane haven #gisa barrow #cameron cole #my writing #listen these are 100% my opinion #please dont just my dick

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awilddreamermain · 3 years ago

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Hi, Chels! Congratulations!! I'm so happy for you! You deserve every follower and more! That is a threat, I'm holding everyone hostage 🔪

I would love to get a MHA matchup, I wanna see who you'd match me with! Got me so curious! SFW & NSFW if you'd be willing!

My name is Chloe but I prefer May, nicknames include May-May, Maybell or Chlo.

I'm 25, pronouns are she/he, Cancer Moon, Aries Sun and Virgo Rising. Quite the weird mash of zodiacs, huh?

My favorite colors are pink (that soft pastel kinda baby pink), red (especially blood/garnet red) and...can I add pink again? Any shade of pink this time. Bubblegum or hot pink.

Favorite AU's include A/B/O, Mafia, Historical, Fantasy and does Mythical Creatures count?

Oh...oh boy, I gotta look deep for some fun facts that aren't just...facts but I'll do my best!

1) My sneezes are so short and high pitched I go "chu".

2) I have vitiligo, makes me look like a dog because it's mostly around my mouth and my right eye so I have a spot!

3) I have atrocious balance, my knees and shins are always banged up because I cannot for the life of me walk correctly.

4) I have a stutter, on top of speaking so quickly it turns into a jumbled mess. So good luck understanding what I said because I have no idea either.

5) I have a growing unicorn plush collection. My favorite is Cupcake, one that's actually taller than I am. Big chunk.

My likes are pretty simple. Cute & soft sweaters, blankets, warm coffee and strawberry milk, pastries and the cold! Winter is my favorite season. History, particularly the Medieval and Victorian times.

My interests revolve around creativity and you could say they're my hobbies as well. Drawing in particular, I used to do digital but I'm stuck with traditional pencil and paper at the moment. I'm dipping my toes into painting and its very fun! Obviously writing and reading and if I'm not doing of those listed then I'm definitely playing video games.

Personality I might say I'm quite split down the middle. At first, to a complete stranger I might come across as cold, stoic, with a resting bitch face, that just wants to get whatever I'm outside for done so I can leave. I'd create a witty or sarcastic comeback if I was given sass by a Karen but with my speech issues? I'd be lucky to get one coherent word out at her...and spend the rest of the day fantasizing what could've happened. So I'm rather quiet, agoraphobia hits hard in large or crowded places so I'm an anxiety riddled mess on the verge of a panic attack. In private or with people that I'm comfortable with? Complete opposite. Happy, bubbly, cracking puns and jokes so get those groan worthy reactions. I try to be the "mom friend" and get over my issues if someone is having it worse, I'll march up to a counter and ask for ketchup if someone wanted it but was too scared to do it themselves. The shoulder to lean and cry on, I'm highly empathetic and understanding, compassionate at times. But I have to actively try and keep myself positive and say good things about myself because I do fall into the pit of self-loathing and hate.

For appearance I'd say I'm average height, pale with white splotches that are inching larger due to my vitiligo, chubby, ashy blonde, blue eyes, button nose. I'd say I'm decently cute? I don't know if I can rate myself.

Okay I know I said I'd be looking into Zodiac compatibility for this but— I literally just screamed internally "KIRISHIMA" when I was reading this. You two would be perfect omg. This Libra king would do anything for you. For this you're an artist and the daughter of a mafia boss :) I like to think of ship names sometimes so like, yours would either be like Eijmay or Mayjirou or Kiriloe— that last one and first are awful I know so lets go with the second? I can't write a proper stutter for the life of me so I tried to keep your dialogue to the minimum.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ Pairing: Eijirou Kirishima

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀AU: Mafia

⠀Theme Song: You're The One That I Want - Alex & Sierra

How you meet (his point of view):

⠀⠀The gallery was full of black and white suits, tight, floor length dresses with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses meeting his ears. It was a joyous evening, celebrating the wonderful art work created by the boss's daughter. He had never met her before but he had heard whispers, all good as no one would dare slander the name of their leader's precious little girl. You were the boss's pride and joy, thus he kept you as far away from the darker side of the family business as possible.

⠀⠀Kirishima was still a new hire, a bodyguard of sorts and would consider this his first gig. He had an idea of who he was looking for as he walked further into the mass of people admiring your work but didn't expect what he would eventually come across. You were as far away from the crowd as you possibly could be, guzzling glasses of wine and over all appearing to be a deer in headlights. He couldn't fugure out for the life of him why you seemed so frightened until he watched people approach you to talk, noticing the stutter in your voice when you replied to questions and greetings,your body language telling people to stear clear of you.

⠀⠀So, he did what he was hired to do. "Kindly step away from the lady." He said with a smile, approaching with his large arms crossing over his broad chest as he towered over the guests. They looked at him as if he were a giant shark looking to devour them before scurrying away, leaving the two of you alone. He stood quietly, listening to the voices on the other side of his ear piece as his ruby eyes scanned the area around you. He made sure to not stand so close and avoided in letting his gaze wander.

⠀⠀He couldn't help but admire your skin in quick glances, finding the spot over your eye to be quite adorable. Your silky, ask blonde hair was all dolled up for the event, light make up on your face but not enough to cover the vitiligo. You were stunning and his heart hammered against his chest. So the rumors were true.

⠀⠀You thanked him, voice quiet and careful as you set down your wine glass and clasped your hands together. Out of the corner of his eye he watched you twiddle your thumbs. You didn't want to be here, did you? This obviously wasn't your idea, how could it be? A girl like you, timid as a mouse, didn't want to be surrounded by strangers. "Miss..." He began, thinking carefully because the last thing he wanted to do was piss off the boss and likely get himself killed. But this was his job wasn't it? Making sure you were happy and safe? "Would you like to leave here for a bit? We'll come back of course, but you look like you need some air."

Extra.

He ended up taking you to a drive thru restaurant and got you whatever you wanted, letting you talk about whatever you wanted or sat quietly if you chose not to talk at all If it was quiet in the suv then that was fine too, he just wanted to help you in any way he could. Eventually the silence becomes small talk and then leads to a rather deep conversation about whatever the hell was going on inside that beautiful brain of yours. Kirishima wasn't the smartest man but he wasn't stupid, he wasn't as clueless as most thought he was. You told him how your father made you do this as an attempt to get you out there, to socialize and possibly find a suitor. This was the mafia after all.

The Confession:

⠀⠀It was a tradition now, every Sunday you and Eijirou would go to your favorite café to have coffee and enjoy the early day weather before it got too hot. You sit at the same table, in the same chairs with him facing the door. You get the same drinks and food and just overall enjoy each others company. After that night at the gallery you two became fast friends, which your father obviously had to approve of but thankfully he did. Kirishima was a good man, he's trustworthy and puts you before himself.

⠀⠀The day he approached your father and asked to speak in private was the day he knew he was likely to get thrown in the deepest, darkest depths of the ocean. He has confessed his feelings for you to your old man, who listened intently with a blank face behind his desk. "Sir, I'm in love with your daughter, and with your blessing I'd like to... court her." He was utterly terrified when your father cleared his throat and sighed, shifting where he sat so he could stand and move around the desk. He reached out for a handshake which Kirishima looked up at him with a questioning look.

⠀⠀Your father gave his blessing and now... He just had to tell you, his best friend, that he loved you. God he loved you so much— "Kiri," you interrupted his thoughts, bringing him crashing back to reality," a-are you alright? You seem nervous." He swallowed hard in response but cleared his throat, taking a sip of his cappuccino.

⠀⠀"Oh yeah— definitely." He breathed with a laugh, moving a hand to the back of his neck to scratch. How was he going to say it? "So, uh—" he licked his lips, adjusting himself in his seat multiple times until he groaned and leaned forward. "Fuck, I'm just gonna say it— Maybell, I love you. I have for a long time now and I talked to your father and he said—"

⠀⠀"Said what, Eijirou?" Your eyes widened at his confession and he felt like a complete idiot. Should he had said something to you first? Was this a mistake? What if you didn't feel the same way? God his mind was going to explode—

⠀⠀"That I could... court you. With your permission." You were quick to nod and smile to his surprise, which prompted a grin if his own.

Extra.

Kirishima HAS to be facing the door in any public place you go to. I don't make the rules.

He never let's you walk close to the road, he has to be between you and it at all times when you're walking.

He oders your food and drinks for you when you can't but is there for moral support when you do. He wants you comfortable and happy. He wouldn't ever dare get in your way though, you're a lot stronger and braver than most may think you are.

The Relationship:

⠀⠀On days like this, Kirishima can't help but admire you. He catches himself staring wuite often but he just can't help it. What did he do to deserve such a beautiful partner? He looks at you and all he can think about is how much he loves you and wants to see you smile. He watched you from the kitchen island, leaning against it as you waltz around the kitchen in your pinky fuzzy slippers and one of his shirts that's much, much too big on you. He remembers your surprise when you found his clothing was actually too big on you and how happy you were.

⠀⠀"Maybell?" He hums, adjusting his stance and crossing his arms on the counter. He listened for you to him back in response, a smile on his lips. "You look so cute in my clothes.

⠀⠀You giggled, shaking your head and continued putting the dishes away until Eijirou appeared behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and his forehead coming down on your shoulder. "Need somethin' baby?" You turned your head just slightly, a brow cocked inquisitively. He squeezed you in response, swiftly lifting you and making you squeal. Thankfully you didn't have anything in your hands at the moment. He peppered kisses all over the side of your face, setting you down only to lift you again bridal style.

⠀⠀"I've got all I need right here in my arms." He chuckled and you playfully smacked his chest, letting him carry you to your shared bedroom.

Extra.

TICKLE FIGHTS.

He thinks your sneezes are the cutest thing in the world.

He loves your god awful puns, they crack him up every time.

Adores the fact you're a nurturer, especially with your friends. He thinks you'd make a great mother but if that's something you don't want he respects that.

You take care of everyone, but who takes care of you? Eijirou is always there to be your shoulder to lean and cry on, he's your sound board and is always happy to let you talk about your feelings with him. You're allowed to not be happy and bubbly all the time, he realizes how staying positive all the time can actually do more damage than goof, especially if you bottle everything up.

If on a particular day you're struggling with your speech he's happy to be your voice as well. He understands you better than anyone, even your own father.

Speaking of your father, he can't wait to make Eijirou his son-in-law! He's a good man with a good heart and treats you right, what's not to like?

He has trouble saying no to you and spoils you quite a bit.

The Fights:

...

Extra.

There's nothing, what you say goes and all he can say is "yes dear". He knows better than to argue with you, however when he's right and he knows he is, he finds a way to prove it without making you mad.

The Sex:

⠀⠀"Fuck baby—" he hissed, hands finding your hips and guiding you as you rub yourself on his cock. Your hands are on his thighs and your head is tossed back, giving him the perfect view of your tits. God he loves them, he loves the plush skin of your stomach and your thighs, your ass too, he loved seeing all of you. He was so happy that you allow him this privilege of seeing you, granted you've been dating a while now but still. Your sounds are music to his ears and all he wants is to make more, make you feel so good you're calling his name and making a mess.

He wanted— no, needed, to feel you, to feel inside your warm and wet cunt, to feel it squeeze him and milk him dry. He was quick to flip the two of you over, careful to not hurt you as he did. You gasped and giggled, reaching up to hold his face as he smiled, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. He loved your taste, he could go on and on about all the things he loved about you all day if he could. "You want it baby?" You nodded excitedly, lip caught between your teeth. He smirked and reached between the two of you, thick fingers tracing a line between your lips and slipping inside your soaked pussy.

"D-Daddy—" you whine, a slight pout on your lips as your face morphs into one of pleasure. He chuckled, pumping his fingers in and out a few times before removing them and grabbing his cock. He coated it more in your slick, guiding it between tge lips of your cunt before slowly pushing inside, groaning at how tight you are. You squeal of course, gasping for breath because Kirishima is an impressive size, you still struggled to take him sometimes but like a good girl you always managed.

"That's my good girl." He cooed, moving so his forearms were on either side of your head. He gave a couple test thrusts, waiting for you to adjust u til you nodded for him to continue.

Extra.

Terrified of activating his quirk while he's fucking you, but he keeps himself under control.

He loves his hair pulled and he loves to be bitten, he especially likes it when you scratch his back when he hits that good spot.

Eats you out for his pleasure mostly, but for yours as well. He loves when you grind on his face and moan his name when you do it. Speaking of, please sit on his face, he loves that shit. He knows how to be careful of his teeth!

If you have pets they CANNOT be in the same roon when you're doing the do, it's just weird.

He'd happily bend you over in the kitchen and do you right there. Hell, he'll fuck you anywhere you deem suitable.

He likes to do a mixture if praise and degradation with you, and edging and overstimulation is a big go-to. He just loves seeing you squirm under him, hr loves hearing you beg and say you need him.

#dreamer's 800 follower event

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thedumbguywithaheart43 · 3 years ago

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Boomlords weird adventure

Chapter 18 The monster

Moments before boom Lords crashing.) Spike had landed in the middle of the city right at the castle's door step. And most citizens ran off in the panic Twilight was quick to drop from spikes back, dashing through the crowd along with Fluttershy. It didn't take very long for them to reach the main chamber where princess bubblegum was busy talking to the girls about the importance of not eating the buildings. Specifically she was addressing pinkie pie." So pinkie pie this is why I respectfully ask you to please assist in the rebuilding the houses you ate.... Twilight your back already where's boom?"bubblegum looked at the two girls noticing their panicked faces."we just came from the forest something came out of the woods with a glowy sword thing boom told us to run!"Twilight stated in a panic."Wait did you say a...glowy... sword."bubblegum barely got the words out of her mouth as Marceline reached for her Axe her face matching the expression of bubble gums. The expression of terror. At this point was when boom crashed through the ceiling into the center of the room. The girl stared at him in shock as the laying form of Boom slowly started to rise from the ground. But this time the gold in him had left his hair returned to its blonde color and both eyes had redden in a fiery glow. Boom Lord look to his friends he swore he could see their mouths moving but he could not hear them all he could hear was the voice in the back of his head."it's time Boom there's power here so much of it so much blood! We can feel it boom you can feel it we need it!"boom clenched his head as the sinister voice that mocked his own roared in his skull."no I can't you can't make me hurt them. I won't hurt anyone ever again not like that!"he yelled clenching his head. As he struggled with himself bubblegum looked to Finn."FINN GET THE SERUM FORM MY ROOM!"Her voice boomed to the human who quickly ran down the hall and out of view.

2 boom continued to yell however what he was yelling now was incoherent. Occasionally there would be a normal scream of pain mostly he was talking and what sounded like reverse."llik em liik em!"it went on like this for about 12 seconds before he went to silent. Everyone went silent. Two horns like a dragons popped from the base of his head stretching out a good 12 inches each. On his fingers daggers formed made from what seemed like red light encasing them. Twilight herself was about to head over to check on him but before she could even take a step Marceline dashed at him. Her Bass-ax now to his throat as she held it there fear still taking over her face."okay boomy just take a deep breath and hold it in there we're getting your medicine just hold on!"her voice was filled with panic and worry as she never moved her base from his throat."come on say something man anything let me know you're still there!"boom looked up at Marceline lowering his hands to his side the blade still there.A Smile creeped onto his face a crooked devious smile."oh I'm sorry my dear boom Lords unavailable at the moment~and you my dear smell delightful~"boom spoke in a sinister tone but it wasn't just his voice it was as if another was speaking over him in a crooked deep tone. Marceline eyes widen as her extra to the floor. The girls watched in horror, as in an instant faster then a person had time to breathe. Boom was standing operate one arm extended with Marceline in his grip. He held her by the throat a thin bit of blood dripping from the side of her neck where his claws pinch down."your magic is mine~"boomboard's body began the glow red as Marceline's face went a new shade of white and her hairs color to fade. Marceline could only give out a silent scream.

3 At this point the girls had enough. Applejack was the first to act alongside rainbow Dash. Applejack twirled her lasso and threw it over boom catching him around the neck and pulling on it. However this only caused the rope to burn away. It was enough for them to catch bones attention as a rainbow Dash sword towards him. Boom merely laughed a sickly laugh as he dropped Marceline to the ground and swatted a charging rainbow Dash right out of the air causing her to crash into a wall."oh My Little ponies out of their element~sadly there's barely any magic in you too to take.~"slowly he began walking towards Applejack as she was now stunned by fear. He was about 5 ft from her before a purple Aura surrounded him he turned his head to Twilight."boom what are you doing they're your friends!"she yelled At him as rarity too pulls out her own sword causing an additional shade of blue to form around him. He stood still staring down only Twilight."friends? Tell me Twilight do friends fear friends? Even before this they never trusted him never trusted us even you didn't."he slowly started walking towards her now the two unicorn people trying their hardest to keep him back pushing with all their might against their swords. Is this happens pinkie pie and Fluttershy rushed to Marceline's aid. He ignored them as he walked past his focus only on Twilight."it's kind of funny though boom seems to really enjoy your company~but I can see you do have your traits~your magic alone is irresistible to me~"the monster licked his lips as his voice deepened. Soon he was right up to her only separated by the sword pressed against his chest."but I'm sure then we'll get over this there's no way you could truly love him everyone betrays him~and I don't feel like dealing with another one of his broken hearts.~"he then wrapped The Long claws around her blade the feeling of draining running through her body so she fell to her knees unable to let go of the weapon. Her face started getting pale as she felt her very life force starting to leave her. And all she could see was the face of the light on Boom on her love."please don't!"she cried out in pain before.... It stopped she felt the energy return to her body as boom let go of a sword his eyes widened. Princess bubblegum and Finn were behind him and they were jaming being several syringes of golden liquid into his back. The red around him faded as his right eye return to gold and when he looked down at Twilight tears began to form."Twilight I'm sorry I couldn't stop it it took control I I'm."he was barely making out the words he was exhausted and he was feeling dread as he looked back at Marceline whose slowly was starting to recover. The color in her face slowly starting to return to her usual paleness. Twilight looked up at boom before standing. She didn't say a word she just leaned it and hugged him. It was a shock to him he expected her to yell or to hate him at the very least give him a quick smack across the face. That had been his experience in the past. Truly Twilight was very different from other people. He returned the embrace quietly crying into her shoulder as the syringes fell to the floor."sugar cube you got a whole lot of fucking explaining to do!"it was Applejack's voice says she and the other girls stood around him with the exception of rainbow Dash was unconscious."well this is going to be a very long day isn't it?"

#mlp fandom #pinkie pie #applejack #rainbow dash #fluttershy #rarity #twilight sparkle #finn the human #marceline #princess bubblegum #fanfic #writing #comedy #dramatic #action

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anotherbeingsworld · 4 years ago

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Homecoming (Bryce’s POV) - Part 2

Read Keiki’s POV

Summary: Imagines on meeting Keiki for the first time, but from Bryce’s perspective.

Characters: Bryce Lahela and Keiki Lahela.

Warnings: None, language-ish. Nothing more than that.

A/N: This is the second part for this series-ish? The first part was Keiki’s POV and I am very glad that all of you enjoyed it! This is entirely Bryce’s POV which is the scene before MC meets Keiki, and Bryce bringing home the groceries. Its like an imagine of what it would be like? If it’s not accurate or anything, I apologize. This is my take and, I hope it goes well. I deeply apologize if my grammar is wrong since english was definitely not my first language. Enjoy! (I have doubts sghsjskskss, but...enjoy...) // Thank you @fantasyoverreality98 for assuring me about the whole part, I am grateful! Much loveee <3

Tags: @bitchloveskcbaseball , @storyofmychoices @jaxsmutsuo , @mvalentine , @princess-geek , @lahellacute , @kacie-0156 , @simp-for-villains , @annekebbphotography , @brycelahel, @mrsbhandari , @dcbbw , @choicessa , @choices-confessions , @aylamwrites , @fantasyoverreality98 , @drakewalker04 , @baltersome , @thecordoniandiaries , @thundergom @choicesficwriterscreations @starrystarrytrouble, @ohramsey , @kelseaaa , @rookie-ramsey , @bratzlahela

LINK TO MY MASTERLIST

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The music is blaring, as he inspects the selfie that they took at the music festival. The others were dancing including Casey herself, as she looks like she is in her element. Bryce smiles at the sight remembering their small moment earlier, it certainly makes up for all the lost time they had.

His phone vibrated suddenly, as the familiar name appears on the screen. Keiki.

He felt a pang of worry , as she never calls even after his departure. He knew it was important. Bryce called out for Casey, as his eyebrows furrowed in worried which was sensed by Casey herself. She pulled Bryce out of the crowd, as they stopped at a vendor, where she looks worried at his sudden change of behavior.

'I need to go.' Bryce stated as he walks away answering the call before Casey could call back for him.

The conversation went by quickly, as he took the train back to his apartment. It took him by surprise, after their conversation. Bryce never thought about seeing her again, but… the thought never left his mind. Despite what his parents did, Keiki is still his sister above all. He felt a pang of guilt as he remembers the voicemail that he left during her birthday 6 months ago, as she was living her life luxuriously in Hawaii, or that’s what he thought.

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

Bryce was seated on one of the train seats, as it started to move. His mind was anxious, as he was trying to figure out the reason for Keiki's sudden arrival. He has a hunch that there were problems happening at home, but he shook the thought away since Keiki Lahela was known as his parent's very own princess that they would spoil rotten including a unicorn for her 5th birthday.

The walk to the apartment seems to slow down, as memories from his past (the good ones) are playing in his mind. Despite being years apart, Bryce and Keiki are each other’s best friends in the household. A memory during his senior year has floated in his mind as he is making his way back to the apartment. The memory was during a birthday celebration of his friend once upon a time, where the Lahela name was hated by the whole population of Maui.

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

Bryce was out with his ‘friends’ as they were celebrating the beginning of the senior year. They decided to hit the bar, as most of them had reached 18 including Bryce. The first few hours were okay, as they were having fun. But, their fun was cut short; by a local who recognize him.

“You!” The stranger yelled at his face, earning a number of stares from the bar.

Bryce looks over to his friends, as he swallows a lump in his throat. He wasn’t drunk, as he realized what will happen. But, he didn’t flinch as the stranger continues.

'You are one of them right?!' He suddenly pushes him as his body falls onto the floor. The customers let out a gasp, as the majority of them were recording the scene.

'What are you talking about man?' Bryce replies as he wipes the sweat forming on his forehead before he stood up. The stranger was looking furious at him.

'You ruined my life! I trusted your family, and this is what I get?! All of you are a bunch of bastards, who came here just to ruin our lives.' He yells once more, as the customers all looked at Bryce with hatred in their eyes.

'It's a Lahela!' One of the voices shouted as they came forward yelling at him for everything his parents had done in the past.

‘We were supposed to have a baby, and now… we lost all of our money because of you!’ Another voice was heard.

'Liars!' The chorus of chanting was heard, as Bryce immediately leave the premise. He sighs as the fate of his life was always going be this way. His phone beeped, and he saw horror; he was removed from every friend group and, there were threats to his position in the basketball team.

‘Crap.’ He places his phone back into his pocket, as he made his way back ‘home’.

The house was dark as it was almost one in the morning. He made his way inside as he saw one of the house staff was waiting for his arrival.

'Hey, Jones.' He said before Jones lets out an expression he knew all too well; he was in trouble.

Bryce nods before making his way to the office, where his father would conduct his 'business'. He has a huge hatred towards the room as it brought so many good memories that were disguises for their business. He pushed the doors where his dad, is stood waiting for him with a stern look in his eyes.

'Do you know how late it is?' His voice was cold, but Bryce didn't give a damn.

'It's almost 1 a.m. So?' He crossed his arms feeling tired of this so-called conversation.

‘You should be back before curfew!’ He slammed his hands on the table making him startled.

'I'm 18, I can take care of myself.'

He shook his head,

'No, it's my house. My rules!'

Bryce's eyes were filled with hatred,

‘Fine, I will leave this hellhole as soon as I can!’ He yells back, as his father looks at him stunned.

‘You dare talk to me like that?’ He just rolled his eyes in response.

‘I give you this life Bryce, you should be thankful for it!’ His voice boomed through the room, as he notes that people will hear this conversation but, he didn’t care.

His eyebrows furrowed in anger,

‘What life? Tell me what is this life you keep on mentioning about ?’ He paused before continuing.

‘You stole from people, you lie to them. You stole their lives, they lose everything because of what you did! And, who gets the blame? Me!’ Bryce pointed to himself letting the anger rolled out.

‘You know nothing, boy!’

Bryce lets out a scoff,

'Yeah, right?! I am not stupid, this life you had been giving me, it was never a gift. It’s just a stop that I had to go through before I leave this place forever’

Both of them stopped as they heard the door creaked open, revealing Keiki who is rubbing her eyes.

‘Dad, Bryce?’ Her soft voice was heard through the doorway making both of them quiet.

‘Hi sweetie, what happened?’ His dad’s voice transformed, as Bryce makes his way to Keiki.

‘I heard screaming, and… are you fighting with Bryce?’ She asked as her eyes gaze into Bryce’s making him soft.

‘No…we were just talking…’ His father replied as an attempt to convince her but, Bryce knows that she wasn’t convinced.

Bryce walks up to Keiki and took her by the hand,

‘Let’s go Keiki, I’m going to take you to bed.’ His voice made Keiki smile as both of them walk away from the room.

The walk was short, as Bryce accompanies Keiki to her room. They walked inside as Bryce gaze onto the spacious room. The walls were pink, as there were toys every corner of the room including a huge play-house that his parents bought for Keiki. He just shook her head, as he felt a tug on his shirt.

He glances and saw Keiki already in the bed, as her eyes filled with worried. A kid supposed to have fun at her age, not worrying over the adults.

'You okay kiddo?' His voice is soft as he lays the question out.

‘I just…I hate it when you fight with dad.’

Bryce chuckles at the statement,

‘It’s just… hard you know. Dad is different and, we just… have different heads.’ Bryce gestures to his head making Keiki giggle as he ruffles his hair as an attempt to calm her down.

The smile on her face, making him happy. He wasn't very close to his parents, but.. with Keiki. It's different, somehow it felt like an escape from the real world when he was invited to one of her playtimes.

‘Will you and dad will ever be okay?’ Her eyes hopeful as Bryce went quiet, don’t know what to answer as he didn’t know the answer himself.

Bryce just nods, without any words coming out. He didn’t want to give her false hope, knowing one day he will not be here to watch her grow up.

'I love you, Bryce.' Keiki said as she pulls him into a small hug, as Bryce returns it happily,

‘I love you too kiddo.’ He replies as he ruffles her hair once more before he retired for the night.

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It was years ago, as it replays in his mind. It was one of the ‘good’ memories he had whilst being at home. After he left for college, he never looked back. He didn’t regret it, but…somehow he wished that his life was happier not for the sake of himself, but for Keiki.

His apartment was in view, as he quickens his steps up the stairs instead of the elevator. It was a short commute, but he felt himself feeling nervous by the sudden rush. He hasn’t seen Keiki in years, and… he didn’t know what to expect. He wished her a happy birthday 6 months ago. But, there were no replies.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw a figure leaning against the door. Bryce quickly makes his way, his steps quicken as Keiki's head perked up at the sound. A small smile appeared on his face, as he did a quick look at her. She has grown up, and there no signs of hurt anywhere. He sighs in relief, and he stops at the door. He was about to say something, but… he shook his head before unlocking the door.

A new future that has been presented to him, and he will try his very best to be there for her. Honestly, Bryce didn't know how to feel but…somehow fate knows better than him. The fact that he had missed seeing her and this felt like a sign for him. He silently hopes that maybe they can be close once more like before. Hopefully.

THE END.

A/N: I hope all of you liked it! I am very nervous to post this, but... I tried my best! Thank you for reading! 🧡🧡

#bryce lahela #keiki lahela #bryce x mc #open heart #anotherbeingsworldwrites #fics #imagines

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catatonicengineers · 5 years ago

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A Defense of Cait Sith

Plushie Princess Saga:

A Hundred Ways to Put the WRO Back Together

A Hundred Ways to Wreck Shinra HQ

Reeve’s Adventures in Babysitting and World Saving:

And Take a Stand at Shinra

While There’s Still Time

On Plushies and Oppenheimer:

A Defense of Cait Sith

“We knew the world would not be the same. A few people laughed, a few people cried. Most people were silent.” - J. Robert Oppenheimer

I was eight-years-old when I played Final Fantasy VII for the first time, exactly one year after its release. Like many 90’s gamers, FFVII was a turning point into the world of RPG’s from which I’ve yet to recover. Kids today will never understand the coming of age that occurred somewhere between Yoshi’s Island and grappling with the ethos of Avalanche blowing Sector 1’s reactor sky high. It’s no surprise that my 3rdgrade brain found an essence of familiarity to cling to amid the existential dread and ecoterrorism that was the greatest game ever made.

Cait Sith was the cute, cuddly party member that validated my love of cats and ignited my adoration for moogles. I would relentlessly make room for him in my party, despite his terrible combat stats, and hurl endless Phoenix Downs every time he fell.

He was quirky, he fought with a megaphone, his limit breaks were oddly sparse compared to the rest of the cast, and his home base of Gold Saucer looked like a unicorn threw up all over a casino. What’s not to love?

According to recent Reddit threads, Youtube comments, and rage bloggers, apparently a lot.

The advent of the long awaited FFVII remake rightfully caused a massive revival of the excitement first felt by long time fans of the franchise. The release date has been confirmed for March 3, 2020 – two days before my 30thbirthday. Not gonna lie; feels like the universe aligned to bless the official passing of my youth with this nostalgia bomb.

It’s with this love of all things FFVII in mind that I’d like to formally pose a defense of the game’s most hated character.

Cait Sith/Reeve, this one’s for you.

The Laughter

We first meet the lively, dancing robo-moogle and cat combo in Gold Saucer and we’re not quite sure if this strange entity should count as one party member or two. Either way, he joins your crew as the quintessential comic relief with nary a backstory in sight. That’s right; you are now the proud owner of Cait Sith. A “fortune teller” by trade, Cait Sith’s motivations remain as murky as your party’s future.

At first glance, it’s easy to pass Cait Sith off as a filler character, the cute one added for giggles. The one the writers never bothered to flesh out because, let’s face it, that moogle is mostly fluff anyway. The “most useless character” title isn’t entirely unjustified.

If this was where Cait Sith’s story ended.

I still remember the day my older brother announced that he’d read ahead in the player’s guide (this used to be a thing, kids) and discovered Cait Sith was a Shinra spy. I’m pretty sure I went through all the stages of grief before settling on denial and assuming he was playing a joke on me. Surely, my favorite slot machine loving companion couldn’t be a traitor.

Enter Reeve Tuesti, the man behind the moogle. He’s the head of Urban Development at Shinra Electric Power Company. He wears a signature blue suit to work everyday. He hates board meetings. He’s not fond of his coworkers. Like Tifa, he’s an introvert. And he’s the guy who engineered the Mako reactors.

If Hojo is Dr. Frankenstein, Reeve is Oppenheimer. The tragedy of the monsters we create is always greater when it’s a monster we loved. Where the other Shinra execs are motivated by greed, power, and a desire to play God, Reeve is the only Shinra higher up we encounter with genuine empathy and a sense of advocacy for the people. It’s easy to assume that Mako reactors would improve lives, but as Marlene so eloquently asks, “isn’t that because we were taking away from the planet’s life?”

When faced with the guilt of a design gone horribly wrong, those in authority have two choices; own the guilt or double down. And Reeve doubles down.

I’ve never been a fan of the way modern RPG’s have everything clearly spelled out and spoon fed to the gamer. The reason we don’t need further backstory for Reeve is because his character arc is already apparent if we do a bit of digging. I was surprised to learn that the common conjecture behind the exact mechanics of Cait Sith involved him being a remote controlled, autonomous but non-sentient robot. Given that assumption, it’s fair to say that Cait Sith is a worthless character who lacks emotion or consequence.

One opinion I’ve seen trending is why not simply make Reeve join the party, sans the giant stuffed animal? After all, we’d get to see how he grapples with his role in Shinra and eventual betrayal of Avalanche.

Two words; cognitive dissonance. You have to question what kind of 35-year-old executive creates a plushie cat proxy to begin with. See I’ve never thought of Reeve and Cait Sith as separate. The gritty psychological mechanics that are Reeve have always been there, plush or human. Reeve has developed an alter that’s effectively a form of escape. The assertion that Cait Sith lacks consequence isn’t false – a robot carries out its duty, incapable of harboring guilt, blame, or moral repercussion. That’s a pretty darn good way to remain detached enough to stab your party members in the back!

Cait Sith is also an outlet for everything Reeve’s repressed executive life lacks. As Cait Sith, he’s silly and carefree, though not completely unfamiliar. Glimpses of Cait Sith’s witty quips are echoed in Reeve’s mock nicknames for his colleagues – “Kyahaha” and “Gyahaha” respectively. When life is tough to take, we laugh so we don’t scream.

Plus, the idea of Reeve controlling Cait Sith in real time, much like an MMORPG avatar, is just plain hilarious. I’ve always imagined him as the kind of guy who rolls up to his 9-5 office job, pops open a spreadsheet to look busy, and boots up Cait Sith in the other tab. He’s the OG Aggretsuko, the guy making Jim Halpert faces at the camera every Shinra board meeting.

And I get you, Reeve. Really, I do.

The Tears

Cait Sith’s sacrifice was a cop out for killing off a real character. Why didn’t Reeve just die instead of the plushie?

First of all, how dare you.

Second, not all deaths need be literal.

A pervading theme throughout FFVII is the concept of identity. Are we born into an existence we have no control over or can we choose who we are day by day? It’s easy to want to be someone else, the First Class Soldier who sweeps in, keeps his promise, and saves the girl. Our reality is often less of a fairy tale and riddled with our own failures.

By the time the party reaches The Temple of the Ancients, the line where Cait Sith ends and Reeve begins is blurring. Reeve speaks more often as “himself” through the plushie and the nuances in their speech and mannerism are blending. It’s no accident that this shift happens as Reeve becomes more at ease around Avalanche, ultimately switching sides.

I’ve heard a lot of criticism on the seeming lack of motivation to Reeve’s redemption. If we examine the cognitive dissonance theory that governs his character, the switch is far less sudden.

Cait Sith’s death is necessitated by Reeve’s accountability. The innocent plushie alter isn’t working anymore. It’s not enough to keep him from recognizing the horrors he’s been complicit to. Sacrificing this part of himself is the ultimate acknowledgment of culpability. It’s arguably a more important death than if Reeve actually martyred himself. Like Cloud, he no longer needs to be “someone else” and has started down the path of doing what only he, and not Cait Sith, can; stopping Shinra.

There will be more wonderful, fluffy moogle-cat plushies, but the need to disassociate completely is gone. He’ll confront whatever comes without a crutch – or in this case a teddy bear. Reeve reminisces that the original doll was “special” and we end with Cait Sith reminding him(self) not to forget this.

The Silence

In 1953, J. Robert Oppenheimer was denied all security clearance and effectively blacklisted by the McCarthy administration for his strong opposition to nuclear warfare.

Sometimes we find ourselves in a place we never hoped or expected to be in, surrounded by people we despise, and convinced the world is going straight to heck. We can either get out of dodge or stay.

If Reeve had indeed sacrificed himself rather than Cait Sith, this would simply have been yet another escape. He stays. He works. He gets Marlene and Elmyra out of Midgar. He spies on Shinra. He finally tells Gyahaha to stick it. He goes on to head the WRO and never stops advocating for the people.

Reeve’s not a fighter. He can barely get by with a handgun in Dirge of Cerberus and Cait Sith’s megaphone is no Masamune. Despite this, he takes a big risk by being the only insider on the team. We’re pretty sure Shinra doesn’t share Reeve’s opposition to capital punishment either.

Maybe this is why I’ve always loved Cait Sith/Reeve. I’m intrigued to see if Square Enix will add any further insight into our favorite plush moogle-cat-spy, but if they don’t, that’s alright too. Cait Sith is still a pretty solid character. After my brother spoiled one of the game’s major plot twists for me, I ended up reading the player’s guide for myself. And he was right. But he was also wrong. I recall marching proudly into the living room to declare that while yes, Cait Sith was a traitor, he was also a hero.

So fight your fight. Fail and fall. Hurl some Phoenix Downs and get right back up again.

#ffvii #ff7 #reeve tuesti #shinra #cait sith #.txt

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amieyhko · 4 years ago

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Escapril 2019

escaprilday 2019 // 1: a fresh start

two Costco bags full of

umma-certified clean clothes,

“unpacking cannot begin with wet clothes”

Taipei humidity is unkind.

coins clink,

white noise revs

drowning out the drizzle

as heart somersaults

to the rhythm of the cycles:

what — tum — am I — ble

doing — tumble — here?

the darks tumble its final spin

as the lights

click —

into a stop.

a whiff into a warm towel

warns me the comforts of home,

promising

of munchies, blankies, and speedy wifi

of cushy floor space where crafting

and writing past midnight can be done in secret

but —

fold — maybe — toss — I changed —

yellow blouse — or gave up too easily —

fold — or could it be —

toss — I’m listening to all the wrong voices? —

red turtleneck — no — flick —

wait, this is so soft now, I guess the washing machine in that guest house in Seoul was indeed really terrible —

fold — yes, this is how it should feel on my skin —

toss – my heart knows, though —

fuzzy sock — maybe home is where I need to be right now —

into basket — there’s nothing wrong with —

grab — starting over again.

escaprilday 2019 // 2: april showers

you said all memorable moments

include an unexpected deluge

I nod and laugh

as the metro ac pierces through

my drenched jacket

I shiver as I feel my clammy socks

cling onto my not-rainproof Docs

("they're not?" you ask in shock)

ears ringing still

from speakers booming

throat scratchy from scream-singing

at the top of our lungs.

still, you smile, shiver, and say,

with half-dazed eyes,

all good memories

end in rain.

escaprilday 2019 // 3: incorporate music

“Hope I’m not tired of rebuilding”

at this in-between

this time of heating up lukewarm lattes

and microwaving soggy french fries,

a surrendering of old and new

kindles a familiar tune:

“not what’s easy, what do you want?”

at this in-between,

the seconds between a squat and a jump

or the hours during an endless free fall,

a whisper sings an awakening:

“even a phoenix dies”

so at this in-between

muster up the strength to

inhale blue

and exhale gold.

escaprilday 2019 // 4: anxiety

lacuna

¡amiga!” he chimes like clockwork

with a sonrisa that has probably charmed plenty of hearts.

my fist bumps his and I walk toward the dark halls

where they tilt their heads forward and say

“안녕하세요” they grin,

some fake, others genuine,

mostly muscle memory.

“哈咯“ she greets as I turn the corner—

a sound of familiarity.

the velcros on my lips finally relax

till we part ways to our stations

“how are you?” their words flow dry

they probably don’t want to find out

my tongue lands on one syllable:

“good”.

escapril 2019 // 5: back to nature

I’ve a secret spot for seeing stars in Taipei City.

after a day downtown,

blasting my headphones at damaging decibels,

fixing makeup with samples at drugstores,

and chasing after buses,

I skip down the announced “platform two for Taipei Zoo”

and gaze down at the light show stage named Zhongxiao Fuxing.

as the red greens, a rush of headlights streams at me—my eyes

lose focus, my heart

leaps back into my chest just as

the home-bound metro approaches.

I’ll always remember the yard at Tiszavasvári

where we lay to see a starry night drawn by the Creator

after a day of listening to screaming children,

braiding their hairs,

and chasing after the impossible ones,

we stood in awe, jaws dropped, then soon learned

our necks weren’t strong enough

so we lay down, evening breeze

accompanied by the crickets sang a lullaby—

my eyes played a senseless game

of connect-the-dots, my heart skipped several beats

as I let go of the memories of beds and blankets.

escapril 2019 // 6: nostalgia

missing you is easy.

remembering you creeps

up in little mundanities

like a cup of fruit tea

a bottle of Clorox

or an inappropriately loud laughter--

to my consolation, yours is unmatchable.

although,

the sound of your laughter rings

quieter

till I can whisper:

escapril 2019 // 7: start with a time of day

3 a.m.

why wait

for dawn when

we can set yesterday

in flames

over this river?

escapril 2019 // 8: love poem

I cannot recall the exact words uttered

but something in my heart fluttered:

our eyes met for a millisecond

we cracked, till our breaths weakened.

our words, lost in the waves

transformed into safes

I open in my heart of hearts

to feel at home within the laughs of your loves.

escapril 2019 // 9: focus on the color

chorok hadn't found its form in

korean of old. fields of

grass and evergreens,

little plates of herbal banchan,

lush of summers,

and squirming caterpillars

all existed as paran-- that same

color ascribed to vast oceans,

and sunny skies

then one lively spring, chorok

creeped its way into our tongues,

demanding to be seen on

street signs,

the mountain tops, and

cross walk lights

though some still speak "the light

turned paran",

and the incorrigible children's tune

singing of spring

blossoming into paran,

chorok sprouts an entrance

undeniable to out naked eyes.

escapril 2019 // 10: femininity

the bus,

back slides down on the uncomfortable bus seat,

fingers stroke through my freshly buzzed head,

while many eyes fixate above my eyes,

asking:

"is she a boy or a girl?"

"is she a lesbian?"

"what happened to her… hair?"

eyes read their faces,

mouth struts a big yawn with no reflex system telling me to conceal it.

imagination floats to a stadium,

feet stands on the podium,

voice declares:

I'm still so-very-much a lady--

just not fair like Audrey,

nor dainty like a stereotype,

or as brave as Joan,

and definitely not as attractive than most

but maybe more like

the ones writing history

now.

escapril 2019 // 11: not from your perspective

most of the time I sit beside the maroon sofa

where you watch tv and transform into a potato

I wait and wait for that sweet moment

you grab my handle

travel me to a flat desk

wind me up with thread

hook me up to a pedal

switch my light on

smooth out a piece of fabric

pinned up in zig zag

then

zoom, crackle, buzz,

your hands sync to my rhythm

you pray I don’t jam

or break your thread

then you announce with pride

“et voila!”

escapril 2019 // 12: spring cleaning

it takes two countries

few cities

thirteen houses

fifteen boxes

thirty trash bags

and an infinite repetition of

"do we need this?"

for a soul to grasp the spider web line

between a desire and a necessity.

then a decade teaches the

same soul

sometimes,

spectrums soften

escapril 2019 // 13: celestial bodies

if only

seeing you was as easy as

some nightly glow at your half

reflecting off

a big blazing ball of light on my half

escapril 2019 // 14: make it rhyme

a sonnet-full of embellishments, fake

notions of how lovely you are like some

weather in summer or spring, homemade cake

that tastes like cheap flour and rotten eggs, numb

from clichés, the love songs that never shut

up, posed photos of arms around my waist,

a let-me-take-that gentleness, so what

are you doing? leaving sour aftetaste

in our hearts. no, this sonnet is not for

us. we don’t need guidelines to fall in love,

nor the recipes known to prevent war

(it cannot be all fair in war and love),

so stop. steep in this silence as your hand

finds mine in this complicated quicksand.

escapril 2019 // 15: describe a smell

a dash of prickliness:

prickly, like appa’s beard attacking my forehead as he plants a kiss.

then an overwhelming sense of saltiness:

salty, like that time I accidentally used the spoon side of the seasoning bottle

or tasting my own sweat or tears.

something rotting at slow decay.

fruit flies feast.

my nose shoots me back to

halmoni yelling something in dialect, umma replying.

I stand in the middle of the market square, I’m ten.

they promised me jjajangmyeon,

my nostrils can hold out just a minute more.

escapril 2019 // 16: any dreams?

five—

I was to be a Pokemon trainer by day

and Sailor Moon by night

but adults hung my creativity dry

seven—

a singer-songwriter

but music chose me not

ten—

fashion designer,

draw designs, sew coutures, walk the runway myself

but whispers yelled discouragements

fifteen—

couldn’t care: I was a realistic teen

now—

I tip-toe about my heart

trying my best not to pick on scabs,

unable to answer any questions

albeit an I-don’t-know

has never sounded more

comforting and clear.

hear the wounds heal

to the beat of the unicorn hooves.

escapril 2019 // 17: body as friend or foe

I was born in Guatemala,

but my father’s from Georgia

he’s a musician, he produces

K-pop albums and we travel the world

searching for the next big deal,

my mother paints apples, she’s from Zimbabwe

she also writes Chinese poems.

It’s all true—

my body deceives every bit of reality within me.

escapril 2019 // 18: a happy place

hear nose tickle

with the sound of lavender feathers

fluttering by

eyes will open up to inhale

the golden hours spent

under Your glorious dance

escapril 2019 // 19: without your name, who are you?

if an utterance of a name

can form a heart,

her name has been called by many

if each spoken word forms

a vibration into what we are,

she's a someone

whispered into a myriad of paradoxes:

she's an asteroid, crashing fast,

uncontrollable, unexpected.

she's a cup of tea, calm,

idle, ready for nothing.

escapril 2019 // 20: a liminal space

this amorphous ground feels comfortable,

excuses acceptable:

the excruciating humidity,

drowsy rain, busy friends,

false pride, miscalculating time.

they say:

Prufrock measures his life in coffee spoons,

but Zeno says nothing ever reaches its destinations.

the Knight holds his tongue

yet his heart flutters a violent beat.

I’m just another contra, letting my feet skip away

as each step echoes heart beating somewhere

back.

escapril 2019 // 21: it’s the end of the world

no zombie apocalypse,

the sun still functions,

stars are still, hearts

unbroken, no one

escaping to Mars,

no fatal goodbyes.

one silent pink noise

a purple glow,

“welcome back home”

it said.

escapril 2019 // 22: nourishment

last month, I met a little

potted plant.

I took it back to my little

suffocating room

and named it little

foggy star.

I loved it little

by little

I gave it little

droplets of water,

spoke little

words of compliment,

took it to my little

window sill

the sun peeped through

a little.

it grew a little,

I did too.

escapril 2019 // 23: when the party’s over

recollect spilled laughters —

this, for unworthy jokes,

that, for suave comments,

maybe one for someone dreamy —

bottle them up,

keep them fresh

for the next sea of

stragglers,

mutual someone,

you-look-quite-nice,

wow-so-interesting.

escapril 2019 // 24: liar, liar

how to be a compulsive liar

one: disregard empathy, embrace despondency, think selfish,

my life doesn’t have to tell truth tales, no one needs to know.

two: rehearse recollections, think practicality, use names they’d never check,

let myself believe in each detail, each sight, smell the scenario

three: speak the perfectly fabricated phrases into existence,

no need to bat an eye, stutter a detail, overthink a loophole.

for example: “yeah, the party was fun. we walked around the park afterwards.

who? oh no, he wasn’t there. he had an important family dinner.”

four: remember the lie, inform reliable partners in crime if necessary,

never bring it back, stick to your guns.

promise yourself: they can’t hurt, they’ll never know.

remember: truths hurt, they’re inconvenient, it’s none of their business.

dig: until your shovel breaks.

drown out: every kindness the world has to offer.

die: in the said dug hole, climb out just to

repeat: until trust is a pair of cracked glasses, refuse to see a redemption until

die again: learn that these walls must go —

invite: the uncomfortableness that is vulnerability

repeat: until system reboots.

escapril 2019 // 25: pick an animal

my giraffe friend

shades me when the sun’s high

and warms me when the wind’s rough,

meeting her eyes pains me with

an aching neck,

she will always stand tall in a room,

there’s no shelf too high for me,

when she’s close by.

escapril 2019 // 26: girlhood, boyhood, childhood

when I was older, I had a pair of

very pink sneakers

they'd glitter in the sun,

glamoured in gemstones for dignity

velcros loud enough to turn heads

when it was time to take them off

I glanced over my neighbors' shelves:

ugly. blue. brown. ugly. mine trampled over all.

then my eyes stood silent

as I zone in

on her pair of Gundam sneakers

secretly jealous, mostly confused,

extremely frustrated of rule-breaking

girls, defying pink, watching animation

for boys only

now, I wear boring black or white shoes

so do most humans with feet.

escapril 2019 // 27: the state of it all

“you're it!”

a harmless push from their arms

my chest thrusts back

limbs under a spell

all bones removed

“catch me if you can”

why don't you save me

'cause you can?

escapril 2019 // 28: reflection

memories retraces a blur

crooked smile

red dye fading

cigarette between your fingers

standing mostly on your right leg--

you let out a puff as i tell you “i’m imaginary.”

you say you couldn't have

so i tease you more with a kiss

“that wasn't real

that was you imagining it all

new school

a manic pixie

the loneliness got to your brains

that's all”

you flick away the cigarette

eyes reflecting my face

you kiss me back and say

“please don't do this to my brain

you're real

far too real for me i'm not smart like that”

i snicker

the buzzing bus terminal is real

you and i are real

but i'm not

you're no more

escapril 2019 // 29: may flowers

she died a few days ago—

flew off the rooftop

fallen against teeming

reborn lives

the most beautiful of flowers

only last a day or two

you said we are beautiful

because we’re ephemeral

but what happens when

fleeting moments like

a crash kilometers away

pain for someone I never knew?

escapril 2019 // 30: catharsis

yesterday, I cleaned out my room

bugs infested each and every corner

I tried to catch them but they

hid away between the nooks and crannies

whispering schemes to each other

learning the dustiest corners I’ve ignored

waiting for a perfect time to kill

so I dusted out the corners

rearranged the furnitures

repainted the scratches

thinking cover-ups should make anew

yesterday, I cleaned out my room

praying for the bug spray to kill,

I felt seventeen, rearranging photographs,

filling up a space with desired personalities,

she would have been proud

there’s nothing I’d tell her, but to say

yesterday, I cleaned my room, for another hundredth time

they say an odyssey is a cycle

ending with a catharsis

where you come clean

but yesterday, I cleaned my room

again

#poetry #poems #escapril #escapril 2019 #writing #writer #amieko #journal #reflections

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fortheheavenssake · 5 years ago

Text

Nanny Anon 2

Sept. 17

———————

Sept. 18

NANNY ANON, well’ I’ve packed and ready to go ,himself came to say goodbye and thank me for being in the wee-ones early development, It was quite touching. The mistress had the maid drop off a card reference last night and left this morning without a word. ( no surprise there). M and her mistress are looking forward to next week when I move in to the P. And I can’t wait to start a new chapter with a loving family. It sounds wonderful and never again will I have to utter the words ‘ all too…………”

———————-

Sept. 22

NANNY ANON, hello darlings ‘ I’m having a wonderful day with little C&L , M is taking G to see Star Wars so I have the the wee-one and little C. This afternoon we’re going to bake fairy cakes , although little C wants to make Unicorn cookies and take them to school tomorrow … it’s a privilege to be in a loving home with such a wonderful mistress and adorable children, last night I cried with joy. And M and I have such a history of professional duty together. What a joy for a white Lady TTFN 😌😌

———————-

Oct. 3

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, we have been Sooooo busy with the little ones while the mistress and W have been engaged on royal duties. The mistress is such an understanding and compassionate woman she insists on the nannies as being part of the family and treats M and I the same. We have such fun with the little ones , there’s a tree house in the gardens which C seems to have turned into a Unicorn palace with daily visits from her school chums ‘ it’s a hoot ‘life is good for a white Lady TTFN.

—————-

Oct. 5

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, both M and I are getting a program together while the mistress and W are away, we both want to take them on a scavenger hunt at high grove with C&C. Unicorns will probably be involved and G is into Star Wars. So it’s going to be a full itinerary. Little C is platting her hair at the moment and loves the tree house playing with her school chums. It’s a wonderful life for a white Lady. TTFN.

—————-

Oct. 6

NANNY ANON, Hello Darlings, Little G came back from the match with a football signed by the team , and C had a book explaining the women’s World Cup. G is now officially a fully fledged supporter, such a fun day, the children are so exited I can see bed time will be fun. M and I are getting ready for an outing with the little ones as soon as the mistress and W depart for the tour. There off to the in-laws today so M and I are go into F&M for tea …… TTFN.

—————

Oct. 15

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, M and I have just returned with G&C from Thorpe Park ‘ I’m exhausted!! We went on all the rides, Little C wanted to have another ride on the Big Dipper ‘ o dear I nearly lost my breakfast ……… they had toffee apples and candy floss and G had to have tree rides on the water Shute ‘ I came over all emotional remembering Diana doing the same ride with W&H. O DEAR ‘ all too much for a white Lady 😢😢😢😢😢😢😢 TTFN 😢😢😢😢

————-

Oct. 19

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, The mistress and himself returned to a rapturous welcome from the children ‘ lizards ,Unicorn costumes and hugs lasted for over an hour , it was a joy, I think the first stop was BP so we waited a while but it was an exiting evening. This weekend M&I have the time to ourselves as the whole family are going to the country. We shall have a spa weekend in Bath and indulge in a lot of R&R. All To much for a white Lady. TTFN

—————

October 20

NANNY ANON, hello darlings,” O joy and jolly japes”Tonight we all trip over to the in-laws to watch the“ Docudramarama” the mistress has asked her sister to come and himself is off to pick up C&C ! M and myself are busy making savoury and sweet popcorn 🍿 boss baby is having fun strapped in the Bouncer and G&C are playing 🦎and🦄 , it’s a joy to be part of a loving family ‘can’t wait for the fun to begin. God bless the future monarchy. TTFN.

——————

Oct 27

NANNY ANON … hello darlings, still about ,things are hotting up for Halloween 🤡👹👻 the children are expected to wear their creepy costumes and my darling mistress is taking them and other little ones around the the village with the parents. M and I are going as the Markle Sisters 👯‍♀️ So don’t expect to return without egg 🍳 on my face 🤣🤣🤣all too much for a white Lady TTFN

—————-

Oct 28

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, WELL, WELL, WELL, I’m flabbergasted absolutely stunned darlings, I’ve just received an invitation from my previous mistress and himself to a private meeting in SH London for the opportunity of returning to her employ. Apparently the wee one is missing his nanny!!! and this is causing a lot of headaches for the mistress as she wants to be able to leave the wee one with a nanny she knows will be a bonding influence. I’ll keep you all updated as to my decision darling.

—————

Oct 29

NANNY ANON, hello darlings ‘ salutations to all who grace the blog of our beloved Skippy. 🐼. WELL , I’ve made the decision I was debating on yesterday. I’ve decided to remain at KP in the employment of the present mistress ( god bless her and himself) because I ‘ much like M have fallen in love with little 🦄🦎And 👶. It’s a constant privileged challenge to be part of this family, The Sunday night gatherings looking at the social media laughing at the ageing train wreck. Love to all. TTFN. 🤣🤣

—————

Nov. 1

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, Little C is refusing to change out of her Halloween costume 🦄, and we’re all going down to Sainsbury’s to buy some giant marshmallows to roast for the rugby match. When C digs her little feet in there’s no movement. The mistress is having quite a debate with the little one trying to see reason. In the end the RPO got her to change by promising her he’d find a police helmet as a substitute. All too much for a white Lady. TTFN

—————

Nov 4

NANNY ANON, hello darlings ‘ O joy!! Today M&myself take little C and G (with their poppies) to RP zoo with RPO. ( one of the zoo keepers are going to fix a Unicorn to a zebra 🦄for little C.) and G will gain access to the reptile house to look at all the 🦎🦎 “ what larks pip old chap” the mistress is having some down time back at KP with little L. Afterwards we’re all of to Harrods for 🍨🍦. So much joy for a white Lady. TTFN.

—————

Nov 9

—————

Nov 11

NANNY ANON , hello darlings, my day off with M. We are exhausted darlings, absolutely knackered. Little C had a sleepover with four friends (fiendish demons) , OMG it was the sleepover from hell , first’ we put them all in the nursery, made up beds and lots of 🦄🧸🛴🏓🍪🍿🧁🍕👧👧👧👧stuff to play with and favourite eats. Only problem they didn’t want to sleep, himself had a few words to Little C at one in the morning because of the screams. All too much for a white Lady. TTFN. Bless.

—————

Nov 18 (Royal Variety)

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, tonight M and I had too draw lots as to who went to the RVP. I lost , so I’m looking after the little ones. The mistress spent the afternoon getting ready as the dresser fitted the last tucks to the bodice. My goodness she looked magnificent when she walked down the stairs all the little ones cheered and clapped. Tonight it’s a treat, we’ve ordered 🍕 PIZZA and knickerbocker glory’s such a joy. All too much for a white Lady. TTFN.

—————

Nov 19

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, a wonderful evening was had by all at the the RVP. The mistress and himself stunned all who met them with there relaxed countenance, early that evening the little ones started to write a present list to Santa. Little C was the most vocal inquiring how Santa arrives on his sled and parks his reindeer on the roof of KP and shimmy’s down the chimney ( she’s now asking to sleep near the fireplace to meet Santa ???? ) all too much for a white Lady,TTFN. 🎄🎄🎄🎅🎅🎅

—————

Nov 21

NANNY ANON, M and I went to see “ The sound of music “ tonight, we both love the film. We spent the day with the little ones and C had somehow got hold of one of the mistresses cameras 📸 and was ( would you believe it) taking photos of M G boss baby and me. I asked her to give me the camera as it was mummies and all I got was , NO !! later I saw the snaps she took and was surprised. I returned the camera to the mistress who looked amused. Little C been watching mummy. TTFN. 📸📸📸

————-

Nov 22

NANNY ANON, haddow darlig 😷🤧🤧 I dink I got vlue, my node I’d all blogged up , god a rodden hed and snoddy node. The lidda wonds is so fuddy, lidda C broughd be up bregvast od a tray. Bledd, da midredd called he dogta ad he gave be sum pawasetamol , M Id doig grate. Ib dink I’ll ged sub shudii , ord doo buch for a wide Lady, DDFN.

Ohhhh flu has hit KP! Hope you have a quick recovery 😔❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

————

Nov 23

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, still a bid bunggd up, but I’m sure I’ll be ok within the week, M and I are looking after little G and boss baby today,the mistress has gone to a shopping mall outside London with little C for Christmas shopping. Things are hotting up for the holidays and this weekend they bring the Christmas 🎄. Then we can have real fun dressing it. Back to wee boss baby 👶. TTFN.

—————

Dec 3

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, M&I very exited,tonight is the school nativity play and the mistress and himself has invited us. G is a wise king and little C is an “angel on high” …… M wickedly suggested boss baby could be baby Jesus 😱😱, But I don’t think the school is ready just yet. Little C has to say “and behold ‘ the three wise Kings” can’t wait, it’s going to be a hoot!! We all helped to make the costumes , G wore his this evening and looked very regal ( prophetic), and little C with wings.

—————-

Dec 7

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, is the mistress pregnant ‘ all I can say is little Lottie wants a pony for Christmas and himself has quite rightly affirmed that she’s much to young. I think in a couple of years great auntie Anne would be the first to help her into the saddle. We’re all looking forward to the forthcoming banquet ( I wonder if the mistress will wear the emeralds)’ enough gossip, all too much for a white Lady, TTFN.

—————-

Dec 8

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, Lottie has just returned from a visit to the “stables” at the royal mews. (Enough said) , himself has retired to the lounge after breakfast 🥞, pancakes and crispy bacon 🥓 with maple syrup to laugh at the Sunday tabloids. The mistress is having a “late morning” so M and myself are busy with boss and George who is finishing his homework 📚. Another Sunday joy. TTFN.

—————

Dec 10

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, it’s manic at KP , in a good way !! the mistress is becoming enthusiastically involved in her tennis lessons, ( several professional players lining up to coach her) my lips are sealed, Little Lottie is on a mission … it’s a day long mantra from the darling girl , anyone who she thinks will have sway with W&K is propositioned about the “pony”. I think some of her older school chums ride out. I bet Gan Gan soon enters the equation. All too much for a white Lady. TTFN.

—————

Dec 11

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, busy this morning ,decision to choose what C&G will wear for the Christmas walk to the service , winter coats and warm socks are the key. It’s going to be a joy seeing them for the first time at the Sandringham service with W&K. M and I are going home for Christmas M has invited me to Spain with her family, wonderful and the food darlings, I’m in for a real treat. Little Lottie will certainly have a pony ride for Christmas I’m sure, Such joy!! TTFN.

—————

Dec 13

NANNY ANON, hello darlings , we have cancelled our holiday In Spain 🇪🇸, duty calls darlings, we had a chat with the mistress and himself last night and decided we’re going to accompany the family for Christmas, it’s our love for the children and to help the mistress, a joy really. Also the BP PR are briefing the DOD of C about forthcoming commitments. On a lighter note, tonight’s Blog night 😂😂😂 skippy,pg,and troll the colonial Banshee. All too much for a white Lady. TTFN.

—————

Dec 16

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, Little Charlotte is Bewildered as to why there are no unicorn pony’s. The answer Zara gave was Unicorns are different , pony’s are special, clever Zara!! Lottie is full of questions, ( that age) it’s a daily challenge of wits. Last night was blog night, such fun ,all the usual suspects, where is @printskylie ? Never miss pg and her interpretations, so clever , the mistress loves skippy and Hunnymae , duty calls!, all too much for a white Lady, TTFN.

——————

Dec 16

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, O’thank you all so for your messages, the unicorn presents 🎁 look fab. I’ll pass on your message, but I’m sure the the mistress has all information directed to her MPC. ( amazing device). W&K are both very high Tech. My life is full of love and joy, I’ve got Lottie a picture edition of “ The night before Christmas”

—————-

Dec 17

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, the children all sat watching TV, and watching mummy and daddy make cup cakes and roulades. EPIC . The kitchen is now centre of the universe, Lottie and George M and I making cup cakes and roly poly Christmas chocolate logs. Lots of mess and icing sugar. 👦🏼👧👶🧁🍰🍪🎂🍩 it’s boss baby, “ Mary Mary” Christmas 🎄 we are blessed, TTFN

—————-

Dec 18

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, himself is taking C&G ice skating this afternoon, I think this is another diversion from pony’s. It’s a dismal afternoon,raining in London so I think the little ones will enjoy the outing , the mistress is off to play a few sets of tennis with her coach. M and I are going to check online for some new clothes for boss baby, he seems to grow by the day!! This is a busy time leading up to a family Christmas, I think it’s Sandringham this year but arrangements are

——————

Dec 29

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, such a busy Christmas, the little ones were so exited with presents and gifts from the public. The mistress had a clearinghouse Of presents 🎁. A large amount of them go to local hospitals. Believe me they are talking thousands!! There’s a pink Flamingo in Little Lotties bedroom though.M and I are going to have a wee holiday over the new year, it’s been a wonderful Christmas. All too much for a white Lady,TTFN. ( sorry for no posts) been V. busy with the little ones.

—————-

Dec 31

NANNY ANON, hello darlings, M&I and a bottle of celebrity plonk, our night off so it’s on with a movie,feet up and relax. All the i are crossed and the Ts are dotted , o dear the drink 🥤 has taken effect ………… we both wish shoo a happy new year and prosperoush , prosperoust, positives, O you get it , we never normally celibate like this , o dear, all too much for a white Lady ,TTFN. 🍹🍷🍾🍸🥂……………☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️

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3 notes · View notes

irepookie · 5 years ago

Text

Infinity Ch.6- Of Unicorns and Fairies.

Summary: QUEEN AU where Roger Taylor is a young single dad struggling to make it into music industry.

Warnings: not really. Just fluff, sappiness and swearwords here and there

Disclaimer : I don't own the pictures. The boys are based on Queen, (but slightly changed for the sake of the plot). Piper, Gina and Callie are mine.

So, I’ve decided to change the names back for this chapter, just because.

Found this pic on Tumblr, don’t remember where. Sorry.

None of the boys would ever forget the first time they met their niece...

It was four days after Rog and Piper's first day at home. All he seemed to do was feed, being puked on, change, being peed/ pooped on, not sleep, survive on coffee, walk around, feed, being puked on... Oh, and cry. Sometimes it was just impossible not to join her.

Besides, if she didn't decide to grow out of the skin to skin thing and found another way to content herself soon, Rog was going to catch some serious cold.

That's why he was happy to get a call from the boys, that gave him a reason to walk out of the feed-puke-change cycle for a while. Also he was glad to speak with somebody without cooing.

All of that said, the prospect of leaving the house for the first time with Piper was scary.

"C'mon Rog, we gotta knock the last demo out before we can send the album" Brian insisted, when he said he'd <<think about it>>.

"And we wanna meet her!" Fred's voice chimed in from the background.

"You do?" He replied above her cries as he laid her on her tummy so she rested across his forearm. "Shhhhh"

"Of course!" Brian reassured. "She's our niece!"

"I don't know man..." He trailed off, looking down at his kid, who screamed for no apparent reason, making him feel a total useless man for the third time that morning. "She isn't feeling well. And honestly I'm feeling like a piece of shit too. Haven't slept in 5 days" he then softened his tone looking down at the little girl as he swayed her side to side in a vain attempt to calm the two of them down. "Hush Princess. You're alright."

"C'mon. Don't make us go there. We expect you there at 3..."

"3 Is tummy time" he said automatically.

"Tummy time? What the hell??" Brian had the same reaction he had when reading about it. It did sound ridiculous if you didn't know what it was about

"Yes it's... Lay her on her stomach so she'll eventually learn to hold her head and stuff. It's very important."

He tried to remember the long list of benefits he had read countless times in the books, but his brain told him to piss off.

"And how long does that take you?" The guitarist sighed.

"Oh just a couple minutes but she can get a bit cranky and that's like... I don't know, the time to get her settled down is different each time and... Right after that it's her feed, and I wanna do that here just in case she gets sick on me which is apparently like her own little Olympic sport so then I'll have to bath her and get her ready. And then... Look, 4-4:15 sounds alright? She'll be asleep by then and I'll have time for one song."

"Ufff.. I'm exhausted just from hearing you pal." Brian chuckled. "Okay, come at 4. We'll get our parts recorded so you do yours when you get there. So our silly mistakes won't ruin your tempo" he mocked.

"Yea, yes whatever." Rog chuckled too, feeling the nappy to see if that was the problem.

"But if you don't like our arrangement,. you can fuck yourself okay?"

"What-fucking-ever mate." He replied. The nappy was not wrong, and he was running out of goddamn ideas.

"John asks if You still remember to play." Brian laughed.

Rog didn't dignify that with a reply and simply hung up to focuse on his daughter. She had to be fine! "Hey baby, what's wrong? C'mon," he pleaded "I've just fed you, and you can't be dirty yet. So what's the matter, hon? Give me a clue and I swear I'll figure it out but I need your help darl'." He began to pace around the small apartment, and placed his hand on her back for support.

He adored her, really, but for someone who couldn't even roll on herself, or anything at all by herself, she kept him on his toes and worn out.

"Come on, come... Oww." Just as requested, Piper replied to his questions by puking all over him. Fuck. He always forgot to burp her after the feeds! He just couldn't remember it when he had to. And the Prune always made him pay the price. He sighed, giving in to the cycle again.

Thankfully, just as Rog had predicted, by 4 Piper had settled into sleep, after being changed, fed, and everything. She was all ready to go. And so was Rog. Or so he thought.

Had he grabbed enough formula? What if he lost a pinky? Better get them all. It was February, maybe she'd get cold so he grabbed a few more blankets. And a parenting book just in case something new happened he didn't know how to handle. Oh and a change of clothes, and half a packet of nappies. And some toys so she wouldn't get bored. Okay, now they were ready to... Oh fuck, where had he left the car keys?!

To put a long story short, he basically ended up stuffing three extra bags into the car "just in case" but almost forgot Piper inside.

Meanwhile, in the studio….

"He's late." Fred pointed out when the clock ticked 5 and their drummer still hadn't shown up. That was usually Fred, who was often late and even tho Rog came close second, it was unlike him to take this long.

Then again, Rog was pretty much unlike himself lately.

"Do you think they're fine?"

"Sure. Maybe he's just fallen asleep." John reassured.

"Maybe he's had to go back cause he's forgotten the baby." Fred giggled. That would be something Rog was totally capable of.

Suddenly the door opened, and Rog entered with a bag one hand Piper's car seat on the other. His hair couldn't be messier if he tried, and... Was that vomit on his shoulder?

"This is she then?"

"The one and only." Rog beamed proudly as he set the carseat where they could all have a look at his newborn daughter.

"She's... " Brian raised an eyebrow, not really sure of what to say. "Um... what's the regular comment?"

"Oh you can say it. She's a prune." Rog admitted, while readjusting the green blanket on her for the 10th time since they had left home. She was wearing 5 layers plus the blanket, and honestly looked so cozy Rog was proud of himself; if he managed to end this first outing without the prune catching a cold, he'd consider this a success.

They nodded in agreement. She was a . wrinkly thing for sure.

"And this is nothing compared to how she looked on her birth day." Rog continued. "But she's a beautiful prune. My lil' raisin" he smiled softly at her before glaring menacingly at his band mates. "And I will punch the shit out of whoever disagrees."

The other three laughed nervously, instinctively backing up a little. They knew Rowan Queen wasn't one to joke about punching.

"She's one cute prune." John agreed a smile from ear to ear, going to hug his friend, soon joined by the other two.

"Em, what's that smell?" Fred said, as they all scrunched their noses and looked down at the carseat.

"I don't smell anything."

"Well, pal... She must've killed your nasal nerves or something cause... Damn" Brian said

"But she can't... I mean she's just gone." Rog leaned over to sniff around his daughter sides so he wouldn't disturb her. "Nope. Not her."

Fred leaned over him and breathed. "When was the last time you took a shower, man?"

The thoughtful expression on their friend's face was all the answer they needed.

"It's you" they all said at once.

"Aw, fuck really tho?" Rog smelt his armpit. "I still don't smell anything"

"Brain defense mechanism." Brian pointed out. "Oh wait you missed that biology class cause you were hangover again."

"Shut up, Brian. I'm hella sleep deprived you don't want to mess with me."

The others chuckled. He was the embodiment of exhaustion, but something had changed. He looked... Happier somehow. And still capable of punching someone in the face if tempted.

"So, let's begin." Rog clapped his hands together, anxious to finally get back behind the drums.

"Wait, you just gonna leave her here?" Ren asked.

"Yes. I can see her just fine from my spot. C'mon." He leaned over to kiss her forehead and entered the booth.

"Ain't getting in there with you, stinky dumpster." John scrunched up his nose.

"You're the ones who wanted me to be in the studio." Rog crossed the door and sat on his beloved stool. Damn it felt good to be back.

He had been so busy with Pips he hadn't really thought about drums, but now he realized how much he needed this.

"Where do we begin?"

"Sandstorm. Remember?" Brian smirked.

"Yes you just... Get the stick, hit the snares..." John joked.

"Don't forget the metal yellow Chinese hats. They're cymbals." Fred chimed in too.

"And that pedal you have there? That's a base drum, very important."

He rolled his eyes, but played along, after letting his eyes flick to Pips. "How? Like this?" He played badly on purpose.

"Yes, lastly, there's a thing called rhythm , y'know? Try now?" Fred added.

His eyes flicked again to Pip, who stirred slightly. "Okay enough bullshit. Let's get started."

They did it in one take as he didn't lose tempo at all. Infact he was somewhat proud of himself for still having the skill on the kit. (Because, it had been less than two weeks since he had last sat on the stool, but it felt like years.) He also found his eyes flicking to his Piper every ten seconds or so, feeling the compulsive need to make sure he was fine.

Of course she was. She was sleeping in the car seat, nothing was gonna happen.

Timing was perfect. Just as the song was ending, he saw her begin to squirm in her car seat.

He finished the final bit with his eyes nailed on her, even sped up the tempo unconsciously, anxious to finish so he could get to her.

The other members noticed, of course, but didn't say anything when following his gaze towards the squirming infant and figuring out. They'd re-do the last bit later. That could wait. But watching Roger Taylor interact with a baby -not any baby, but HIS own baby- was something as unimaginable for them at that point as seeing a fairy riding a flying yellow unicorn.

They didn't know what to expect.

"Hello sweetheart." He cooed, exiting the soundproofed glass to the table where her carseat sat and lifting her small squirming body to his sweaty chest. "Hey my love. Hey. Hush. Shush. What is it? What's the matter darling?" He cooed, kissing her forehead. She was unusually warm. "Hey, you're feeling hot baby? Hmm? Well let me take care of that."

He lowered her to the couch and unswaddled her before taking another layer out. Maybe he had overdressed her. It was the first time they were properly out and he didn't know what to expect, so he decided to stuff her into 5 layers, before bundling her up. Okay now he knew that was overdoing it. "There we are lovie. C'mere." He brought her back to his chest, a smile escaping his lips when he felt the gentle tug of her small hand wrapping around his hair.

"Shhhhh. It's alright. It's okay baby." He began to pace rythmically around the room for a few minutes, until she calmed down. "There you are, you just wanted Daddy huh? Well I missed you too lil prune" he spoke, oblivious to everything else including the three pairs of eyes following them around as if he was a unicorn holding a fairy.

Damn he was like a completely different person.

"I didn't know he was so good with kids." Brian mumbled, all his doubts and worries clearing, if only a bit, at the look in his friends eyes.

Rog had always looked like he would become the typical bachelor with no ties and no commitment. Now he just looked like someone who was desperately in love.

"Paternal instinct, gentleman" John announced. "But I'm surprised he has one, tho." He added, after a moment of consideration.

The three of them had made a bet on whether the drummer would knock someone up, and apparently he and Brian had won Fred. John had been the closest: he said he'd do it before finishing high school.

But none of them had gone beyond that. Nobody was crazy enough to ever see this outcome happening. However, from that first conversation on the phone, something in his brother's voice when he told them about his new <<Lil'raisin>> sounded just right to him. And the way he now paced the room clutching the small bundle to him as if she was a treasure, just proved his point even more.

"Daddy..." was all Fred managed to mouth out of the hundreds of thoughts flashing on his brain. He was, to put it simple, speechless, but we'll get to that later.

"You're gonna love this place when you grow up, yes you will." Rog's voice continued, as he made his way back to the table. "And we will teach you to play Everything. And I bet you will rock on drums, just like Daddy..." His heart jumped in his chest at the concept of teaching his Prune how to play.

"Yes, he's called himself Daddy without any... Sexual subtext" Brian commented back to Fred.

Oh Fred's subtext was very much so.

"Little Rog finally grown!" John grinned, startling the drummer, who jolted out his bubble and held his daughter close.

"What?!" He hissed, offering his index to the babe.

"Nothing, just..." Brian began.

"Commenting the situation." John grinned.

"Hmm" Was all Fred could hum, still transfixed in his trance.

His friends just waved it off. This had happened before, once backstage -well, if the Campus' canteen restroom counted as backstage-, while they got ready. He was fine after a while.

"Is she okay?" John nodded towards the infant, who hadn't quite settled down yet.

"Oh, yes. Just... Overheated. It's a new feeling to her, cause our home isn't exactly a warmest place, is It?" The new dad changed her to an upright position on his shoulder so he could rub comforting circles on her back. "No it's not, so we have to sleep all bundled up." He looked up at his friends "Which reminds me I need help with the crib. I don't have time to do it alone and I'm afraid to end up crushing her one night."

Well, scared is not the word. Rather <<Terrified to the point sometimes he only felt it safe to sleep on the floor.>>

"Sure mate. We can help you out while you take a well deserved and needed shower." Brian suggested.

"Sounds like a plan"

Meanwhile John approached from behind Rog to get a good look at her. She was still wrinkly, but her eyes were already captivating and John knew she would use them against all of them in no time. Of course it was too soon to make out who she looked like, let alone start trying to guess who the mother was. And... Wait, that on her forehead... "Is she supposed to have acne already?"

"Yep. I freaked out too when I saw it was, but it'll disappear in a bit." Rog said "Wanna hold her?"

"Woah, you sharing your girls?"

"Gotta look for her pinky anyway."

John grinned and held his arms out.

"Know how it goes?" Rog questioned, without moving one muscle.

"I'm studying pediatric psychology." John said matter of factly.

"That you're studying kids don't mean you actually know what to do with them."

"You didn't even studied kids -or anything at all- and you're fine. I got a bonus."

"If you fucking drop or hurt her man..." Rog warned, suddenly insecure about letting his child go.

"Just give her over, damn." John urged.

Rog kissed her forehead and passed her to John so he had her nestled in his arms.

"All good?" Rog asked. It felt weird, after being just the two of them since they had been discharged, to see her in someone else's arms. Which was ridiculous cause he was only turn around for two minutes to look for whatever pinky that hadn't decided to hide away.

"Perfect. Stop being a moron and do what you have to do." John looked down at his niece "Hello darling Piper. I know your brain is still hardly developed at this point and you're not gonna remember any of this but I'm your uncle John and I already love you very much." And he did. He knew he'd do anything for that new little person.

"Sappy." Fred grinned, back to being his witty self again.

"You cried watching Titanic. Your argument is invalid." John replied, eyes not leaving the tiny girl, who stared back at him.

"Everyone does, always."

"It was the 10th time you watched it!"

"And I don't trust anyone who doesn't cry every time Jack..." He chose not to say it, or he'd break down just from recalling it.

"He's a silly one, that Fred, isn't he?" John cooed down at Piper, who kept looking at him with those round grey eyes, and he had a vision, or a prediction, that those eyes would make him buy her a pony in a few years time.

"I'll just never understand why people speak with that high pitched voice at kids. It's ridiculous" Brian rolled his brown eyes. He was an only child, and the youngest cousin of his family so he hadn't really got to treat with kids too often.

"Well, out of all of us You're the one who sings like the Smurfs, so cut it." Rowan arrived with the purple pinky and carefully put it in her mouth.

"You gonna go back to sleep or you're done?" He asked with the highest note on his register, just to piss Brian off "We should probably get going to my place so I can shower while she's happy."

"Why the hurry?"

"Cause it's only matter of time before she needs something and I'm not letting you do it. Nor have the time to teach you how to change a nappy or make a bottle" he carefully took her from John and walked back to the carseat, placing her inside and slinging the bag on his shoulder.

"And for the record, you are the the one soprano here, Mr.Galileo." Brian said.

Rog pretended not to hear him, already crossing the door.

"Wow."

"Unbelievable."

"No way."

That was the general reaction to the status of Rog’s appartement, now full of empty/ half full bottles of formula instead of booze, parenting books instead of Playboy magazine and Forbes... And the smell of powder instead of Marlboro.

Just Wow.

"Holy damn Rog" Fred said, unable to hide his amazement.

"What?" He placed the carseat on the kitchen table, and stared at his daughter -who had fallen back asleep with the car's movement- while debating on whether picking her up or not.

"You live in a... This..." He didn't have a right expression to describe what his apartment had turned into

"Is this the wrong house?" Bri joked.

"Nope." He settled on taking her out and putting her on his bed while he showered.

"You live in a bloody nursery" Fred finally said.

He chuckled. "Just haven't had time to organize. Tho I've already assumed she's gonna take a shitload of room. But that's okay." he cooed, gently swaying out of reflex even though she was asleep and didn't notice.

"You've never been good at sharing..." Brian started, but Rog wasn't going to have them pointing out what they thought he could or couldn't do. He had enough with Mom.

"What is this? A kindergarten lecture?" He interrupted.

"Apparently." Fred still couldn't believe his eyes.

"Well shut up and check out the crib."

"Where had she been sleeping?" John questioned as they followed.

"With me. Well, if we can call it sleep."

After 4 days on their own, Rog had got to nearly master the art of swaddling, or burrito Rollin as he liked to call it, and while he knew the likelihood of waking her up in the process was high, he knew it was a risk worth taking. Then again it had taken him forever to get her settled and... What was the worst thing that could happen?

"I'm gonna leave her here. Try not to sit on the mattress cause that may disturb her."

"Can we talk?" Fred whispered. He wasn’t used to babies, he didn’t want to break her or something.

"Yes, and you don't have to whisper. Talk normally. But don't fight. And just... Keep an eye on her, you know?" Rog said, before disappearing into the bathroom next room.

The three men nodded, and turned to the unassembled wooden crib leaning by the wall. It was actually big for a newborn.

"Why didn't you get a smaller one?" Deaky asked, as he examined the item.

"Cause she'll eventually grow out of it and that will mean having to buy another one." Mom had wanted to give them a present, so he asked her for money to buy a nice crib that would hopefully resist the next couple years.

"Clever."

"Hopefully this one will make it through the next two years or so. Until it’s time to move her into a bed."

"Alright. On with it."

Only 5 minutes into it, Brian noticed the kid's arms moving, as if she was having spasms.

"Errr... Should we tell Rog about it?" He asked his flatmates.

Rog also heard it, tho, and stopped the shower in panic. "Tell me what? What's going on? Is she okay?"

"Is it normal for her not to stay still?" Freddie asked

"Like her limbs are all over the place?" Bri added

"Oh, yea. Fuck you goddamn scared me men!"

"Well she was scaring us!"

"It's normal. It's..." He didn't feel like infodumping an encyclopedic speech about that. He didn't wanna be one of those people. He sighed in relief and ran the shower again. "She's okay. Don't worry."

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the warm, refreshing sensation of the water falling over him. And the relaxing sound it made. Damn, it was good to have a moment of peace without having to worry about his kid being left alone, or feeling guilty that she was next room, or worrying about her waking up with him still in the shower.

Fuck yea, he could've fallen asleep in the act. And he would have

Brian May, John Deacon, and Freddie Mercury were pretty intelligent people. Brian was a honour student, John would have also been if he hadn't caught that flu during the last term of High School, and Fred... Maybe he wasn't the most focused and self disciplined student in the room, but he was creative and witty in his own way.

However, 20 minutes after starting with the crib, they still hadn't figured out one single thing.

"The bloody instructions are in Korean!" Fred complained.

"Yea, we've noticed!" Brian replied, through gritted teeth.

"Why the actual fuck did Rog buy this shit?!"

"It was the cheapest one, for sure." John guessed, pawing around in search of the nail that had just fallen.

"Fred, that screw doesn't go there!" Brian said

"Well it didn't fit anywhere else, so I'm just gonna try in every spot until the goddamn thing gets in!" Fred had never been one for patience.

"Goddamn it..." The guitarist shook his head, running his eyes through the manual one more time, in hopes that he'd come up with something. But no.

"It can't be so fucking hard!" Fred grunted in frustration.

"Guys, I think we're losing perspective here. We should just calm down and~"

John was interrupted when a cry broke the air, just as Rog was almost done soaping his hair.

"I'll get her. You guys figure it out" Fred announced, anxious to get away the bloody crib.

"Ha. You've never been this near a baby before. I'll do it" John said, also standing up.

"You've already held her earlier. It's my turn." Brian spoke, jumping on his feet.

"Precisely because she's already met me...".

"Oh, bullshit! You just wanna leave us here with the fucking crib!"

"Watch your mouth, Fred! There's a kid..."

"Can any of you just fucking get my daughter?" Rog's voice called from the bathroom.

John was the fastest, and he lifted the squirming infant up with one swift movement. "Hey darling."

She kept crying, and squirming all over the place.

"You got her?" Rog asked.

"Yep. What should I do?"

"Just hold her until I get out. I'm almost done."

"Okay" he manoeuvered the infant back in the position he had her earlier, so he wouldn't drop her.

"Just careful, don't move her about too much. I almost drop her tonight when I was making a coffee. Poor Prune's got enough frights."

His friends chuckled. Rog will be Rog. Always clumsy.

"Hey, where's the hammer?" Fred asked Brian .

"Why would you want a bloody hammer now?"

"Cause I can't roll the goddamn screw in, so I'm gonna try smashing the little fucker in!"

"You're gonna break it like that!"

"Well you got better idea? Huh? I didn't think so, so give it here!" Fred demanded, snatching the tool from Brian.

Meanwhile, John was busy trying to entertain the babe until her dad came. Then he noticed some red scratches on her already red face, his expression changing into concern "Rog" he called over the cries and the shouting between Brian and Fred.

"Yes?" He answered, blinking the urge to sleep away.

"Something's wrong..."

"I've told you, it's normal that she moves that much. Just hold on to her..."

"No, Rog, These cuts..."

"What cuts?!" That was all Rog needed to snap out the drowsiness. The shower stopped, and he jumped out the shower.

Fred almost drops the hammer at T's foot at the sight of soaking wet naked Rog.

He. Was. Hot.

A fucking deity.

Michelangelo's David.

But of course Rog was oblivious to it. Not to the fact that he was hot, that he knew, and had taken advantage of it. Take Piper for evidence.

But what he or the other two band members ignored was that for Fred, Rog was... Everything. And he'd be lying if he didn't say he had actually drawn the Michelangelo's David with Rog's gorgeous face instead.

He'd be lying if he said the sight of his beloved with a baby hadn't made his heart melt and twist at once, and set a storm of butterflies fluttering on his whole body.

He'd be lying if he denied he loved him.

He'd be lying if he denied it, yea. But he'd lie straight away, nonetheless. He wasn't ready. He doubted he'd ever be.

Meanwhile, a few feet away, the concerned dad leaned over to take a look at his baby's face. It did have scratches. Bleeding scratches. But how?

"Oh God." He said "But I... They weren't there 20 minutes ago, were they?"

"No, not at the studio. She was fine." John answered, also examining the wounds. "What do we do?"

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🎼🎼🎼🎼🎸🎸🎸🎤🎤🎤

Well, as always, a big Hooolaaa a mi hermana del otro lado del charco (across the pond) @definitely-darcy, who’s always giving me little prompts to keep this shit up. Finally used the crib one, but it’s a bit dull maybe? Anyway, love ya dude!

#queen fic #Roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #roger!dad #70s queen #timelines messed up tho roger baby

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taboo-truths · 5 years ago

Text

I just listened to Taylor Swift's newly released Christmas tune called Christmas Tree Farm. If I weren't such a petty, self-pitying asshole I could've merrily sang along with Swift's festively upbeat lyrics accompanied by adorable home movies. Alas, I am a self-pitying, petty asshole that once again jealously tuned-in to the pure magic of Taylor Swift when I know better.

You see, friends, that I don't yet and may never have... some light candles at Christmas and others, like me, light cigarettes in a twisted sort of death wish which in Scrooge fashion shouts, "SMOKE EM IF YA GOT EM!" I possibly learned this not-so-merry holiday habit from a mother who was far too busy drowning herself in a bottle of wine to deck the halls with boughs of holly.

My childhood Christmases were predominantly spent roughing it alone in solitary merriment. I'd lug the tree down from the attic, break out the box of decorations, check all the twinkle lights to make sure they were properly twinkling and all this while listening to my mom shout, "Dammit! Your lugging all that shit out, but ya better remember Santa ain't coming to clean up your mess!"

Oh the joys of holiday memories.

This did not change in the years later when I grew old enough to have Christmas in my own home with a beloved boyfriend. It seems I've always had to drag people kicking and screaming into sharing my "annoying" Christmas merriment. I haven't always been a Scrooge. I've instead been a Christmas elf in a family of Scrooges.

I'd put on Bing Crosby while also dreaming of a White Christmas, break out the hot cocoa and marshmallows, freshly bake some cookies, and be ready for a tree decorating party like no other, which always became like no other in that it always somehow turned into a party of one in a never-ending list of no shows.

Eventually, I convinced myself Christmas festivity, of any kind, is a glamorous Hollywood illusion. Tired of the disappointment of being treated like a Christmas Nazi for forcing any one of a number of beloved Scrooges into a "fun," holiday tradition, I eventually gave up. I became a Scrooge.

If ya can't beat em, join em... am I right?

Then, I watch Taylor Swift's already magical life be made even more magical by having grown-up on a Christmas Tree Farm complete with every unattainable expectation attained... complete with snow, sleighs, and a mother that clearly did not shout, "Dammit! Your lugging all that shit out...".

What I've only ever known to be Hollywood glamour seems to be Taylor's real life experience of Christmas. And I can't help but wonder where does one go? What does one have to do to meet festive people enchanted by the Christmas spirit? In so far as my life experience has demonstrated to me, they're as mythological as unicorns.

Co-workers, friends, lovers, and family in my life have only ever seen Christmas as a colossal pain in the ass of hyped-up corporate marketing filled with unattainable expectations and the resulting unwanted stress and responsibilities of trying to meet those expectations.

I've known people barely able to make ends-meet, working 2 and 3 jobs, who've donated plasma to provide some kind of Christmas for their kids while stressing-out for reasons of being unable to meet every checkmark on a child's list, who's excitedly expecting Santa to fulfill all their Christmas dreams but will only find disappointment beneath the tree.

To one such friend, I offered the advice of making Christmas a scavanger hunt of wrapped packages hiding candy and clues to find the one present she could afford for each of the 5 kids she was then supporting as a single mom. Fortunately, she came to me after Christmas in tears exclaiming how much fun the kids had in what would become a new Christmas tradition. None of the kids had felt they'd gone without, but had "the best holiday ever!"

In other words, Christmas is tough for many people and for many reasons. We don't all grow-up on Christmas Tree Farms complete with magical memories of holiday delights and splendor with beloved family beneath the twinkle lights. Some of us are roughing it in our own unique ways and trying to make magic of vapor and while haunted by ghostly phantoms of Christmases past.

The one gift I wanted at Christmas was love and the holiday "fun" of camaraderie in a shared Christmas spirit that didn't automatically define me as a "pain in the ass" to those I've loved. For others, the holiday struggle is that feeling of isolated loneliness and more.

But Taylor Swift also brought me a reminder of me before I became such a Scrooge. She reminded me of the long lost Christmas elf in me that once had the perspective to offer a friend in desperate need of advice a different view of Christmas presents and make a new game of Christmas morning for a family that only had each other's joy to give as a gift.

I may well be a self-pitying, petty asshole these days, but I do not begrudge Taylor Swift her charmed upbringing on a charming Christmas Tree Farm and am even grateful to her for sharing it. In doing so, she opened up that sense of family and camaraderie to all of us in need of the Christmas spirit in an odd sort of way that welcomes us all to a loving family. This petty, self-pitying asshole knows a great gift when she sees and/or hears it, and that's what Swift has given us on her cherished Christmas Tree Farm.

The lighter of candles has thus spoken to the lighter of cigarettes and dared offered this Scrooge a new perspective that says, "Merry Christmas! You are not alone. Grab the apple cider, sit by the fire, listen to the sleigh bells on the Christmas Tree Farm, and welcome to the family of Swifties!"

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emospritelet · 6 years ago

Note

KOL! Prompt - Gold returns to work but can't get Belle off his mind and is noticeably mentally absent.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12]

AO3 link

Gold still felt a little light-headed and weak during his shift, but two cups of coffee from the canteen helped him get through the morning. He even treated himself to a Danish, enjoying the brief sugar rush it gave him. The energy was short-lived; his body felt as though it had been soundly beaten with iron bars by the time midday came, and a tiny voice whispering in the back of his mind told him he had returned to work too soon. He ignored it, and pushed on, heading to the children’s ward, where seven-year-old Grace Milliner was recovering from her own bout of the flu. Gold sat down on the edge of her bed with a feeling of relief, and Grace blinked at him, strands of light brown hair curling around her face.

“How are you feeling?” he asked kindly.

“Okay,” she said, in a small voice. “I can’t find Mr White, though.”

“Mr White?”

Gold racked his brains to think of who that might be, flicking through his mental filing cabinet of staff and patients and drawing a blank. He reached out to feel Grace’s forehead, nodding approvingly when he detected no fever, and she sighed.

“He’s fluffy and soft and I can’t sleep without him,” she said, looking miserable, and Gold smiled.

“Mr White is your toy rabbit,” he guessed. “Of course. Forgive me, but I don’t believe we were ever formally introduced.”

Grace giggled a little at that.

“When I’m all better you can come to a tea party,” she offered. “Daddy always says you need to get out more.”

“Does he indeed?” remarked Gold. Bloody Jefferson and his interest in my social life! “Well, that’s very kind of you, Grace. I should think you can go home tomorrow, so you can arrange all the parties you want.”

“Mr White always sits at the head of the table,” she added. “But he’d love for you to come! If I ever find him, of course.”

She looked upset again, and Gold smiled.

“I suspect he’s just gotten lost in the ward somewhere,” he said gently. “Why don’t I see if I can find him?”

She beamed at him, and he stood up, swaying a little as he hooked the chart back over the end of her bed. He managed to get his cane underneath himself, steadying his footing, and walked quickly from the ward before he could fall on his face. There was a large laundry hamper on its wheeled frame outside the door, and he frowned to himself before bending over it and pawing through the sheets.

“You lost something?”

Dorothy’s cheerful voice made him jump, and he almost fell into the hamper before it started rolling away under the pressure of his body. She grasped the metal handle, stopping it with a foot behind the wheel so that he could push himself upright. Dorothy raised an eyebrow, looking amused, and his mouth flattened.

“You doing laundry now?” she asked. “You know there are plenty of patients to look at, if you’re short of work.”

“I’m looking for Mr White,” he said vaguely, picking up one of the sheets and shaking it.

“Are patients trying to get smuggled out in the laundry hampers?” she remarked. “Wow. I had no idea you were so terrifying. I know you’re kind of strict on people taking their meds, but that is some classic escape plan right there. Mr White’s my hero.”

“He’s a rabbit,” said Gold impatiently, and balled up the empty sheet, dropping it back in the hamper.

“Mr White is - okay, you lost me.”

Dorothy folded her arms, and Gold sighed, leaning on the hamper again. His body was screaming at him to lie down.

“Grace’s rabbit,” he explained. “She can’t sleep without him. I thought he might have been picked up by accident when the beds were changed.”

“You’re dead on your feet and you’re upside down in a laundry hamper looking for a toy rabbit?” she said flatly. “Go and sit the hell down, would you? Like I don’t have enough to do without hauling your ass out of there.”

“You’re as bossy as Belle,” he grumbled, and she raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips.

“I’ll check in the laundry room for the rabbit,” she said. “Why don’t you finish your rounds and get home. Before you fall over.”

“I’m fine, I can do it!”

He bent over the hamper again, almost falling in while he rooted around, but his fingers grasped something that felt far softer than the sheets. Dorothy’s hand grabbed his collar - along with a good chunk of his hair, which made him growl - but she hauled him upright until he was on his feet, and he turned to face her with a scowl.

“You’re freakishly strong!” he snapped, and she shrugged.

“Never get in a fight with a lesbian,” she said. “Now would you go and get some rest before you kill yourself?”

Gold gave her a smug grin, pulling his arm free from the pile of sheets and brandishing a somewhat bedraggled plush white rabbit.

“Told you I could do it,” he said snidely, well aware he sounded about five years old, and not caring.

He stomped off to the ward again, and Dorothy followed him, which meant that she was there to witness Grace’s face lighting up with excitement as he handed over Mr White. It also meant that she was there to witness him bending to pick up a patient’s chart and almost falling over. He grasped at the end of the bed to steady himself, gritting his teeth as he felt the room spin around him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” said Dorothy, looking concerned. “You don’t seem completely - with it.”

Gold sighed, his knuckles white as they gripped his cane and the bed frame.

“Guess I’m still trying to shift this bloody flu,” he admitted. “Sorry. I’m - I’m probably more hindrance than help today.”

“Hey, we’re still short-handed, I’ll take all the help I can get,” she said. “But you should get home as soon as you’re done with this ward. As long as Whale doesn’t come down with it too I think we’ll be fine. Come back tomorrow if you’re better. But only if you’re better, okay?”

He grunted something that wasn’t quite agreement, picking up the chart he had been reaching for. He dropped it, the clipboard bouncing end over end before clattering to the floor, and he sighed heavily.

“Go home,” said Dorothy firmly, scooping up the fallen chart. “You’re gonna make yourself worse, and then who’s gonna look after Belle, hmm?”

“I’m not sure I’m doing all that much better than she is right now,” he said, plucking the chart from her fingers and earning a frustrated hiss from her. “But you’re right. I should really check on her. She looked after me so well, it’s the least I can do.”

“Yes, I’m sure your gratitude is the only reason,” she said quietly, and he glanced up.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing,” she said, and smiled widely. “How’s Belle doing, anyway?”

“Not great,” he said, running a finger over the figures on the chart. “I left her with iced water, lots of blankets and instructions to stay in bed.”

“She’s - in your bed?” asked Dorothy blandly, and he looked up sharply, to see her grinning at him.

“Of course not!” he snapped. “I do have spare bedrooms, you know.”

“I just thought, given the power outage, there was the perfect opportunity for some impromptu bed-sharing,” she said innocently, and he wanted to grind his teeth.

“Don’t you bloody start!” he said severely. “As if I don’t have enough of that from Miss Mills! I’m sure Miss French wouldn’t appreciate being the subject of gossip anymore than she already has been!”

“Oh, keep your pants on, I’m teasing,” she said, waving a hand. “I know you’re unfailingly polite and wouldn’t lay a hand on her. Much to her disappointment, I’m sure.”

“Don’t you have work to do?” he demanded, setting down the chart.

“Yeah, but this is way more important.” She followed him as he moved to the next bed. “Besides, I need to keep an eye on you. You look like you’re gonna fall on your ass.”

“I told you, I’ll be alright.”

He picked up the next chart, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“By the way, you don’t happen to know if anyone here has property to rent, do you?” he asked absently, and Dorothy snorted.

“Dude, I just bagged the last house-share going in this town,” she said. “Trying to find apartments to rent in Storybrooke is like searching for unicorns.”

Gold grunted. As he had thought.

“I thought you owned your own place, anyway?” she said.

“Oh, it’s not for me,” he said, checking the patient notes. “Belle’s looking for somewhere to rent. She’s living with her father at the moment, which knowing Moe French’s personal habits, can’t be ideal.”

“Hmm.” Dorothy folded her arms. “Didn’t you say you had spare bedrooms?”

“Several, but I fail to see what that has to do with anything.”

He put down the chart, moving onto the next bed, and she followed him.

“Really?” she said flatly. “So Belle is currently living at your house, is looking for a place to stay, you have tons of room, you like each other, and you can’t think of any connection between that set of facts?”

Gold looked up, blinking at her in surprise.

“I - I live alone,” he said, as though that explained everything.

“Not at the moment you don’t.”

“Yes, but this is a - a special situation,” he said impatiently, turning away. “She’s sick. I could hardly toss her out into the snow.”

“So you agree that offering her a home when she needed it most was a good thing to do?” she pressed, and he sighed.

“This is only for a few days,” he said. “Once she’s well enough to leave, she can go back to her own home.”

“And you can go back to sitting alone in the evenings being miserable as hell.”

“I’m not miserable!” he snapped. “And I don’t see that my private life is any of your business!”

“I’m sharing with Astrid and Leroy,” she said bluntly. “I get more than enough of watching two people dance around one another like they’re not completely in love when I’m at home, thanks.”

“Astrid and - and Leroy?” he said, perplexed. “They’re together?”

“No,” she said patiently. “Not yet, anyway, because they’re almost as blind and stupid as you are. I can see I really have my work cut out as matchmaker in this place.”

“You certainly will,” he remarked. "I think your aim as Cupid is woefully off target. I can’t speak for Astrid and Leroy, but I’m not in love with Miss French, and she’s certainly not in love with me.“

“Wow, you really are blind and stupid.”

“Nurse Gale, so help me—”

“I’m serious!”

“What is it with the staff in this hospital trying to interfere in my lack of a personal life?” he demanded. “If you must know, I’ve been quite happy on my own for decades!”

“And now you could be happy with someone else.”

“Or it could be an unmitigated disaster that doesn’t get beyond the first awkward attempt at a date and she leaves town, never to return.”

“Oh my God!” She threw up her hands in exasperation. “If you won’t ask her out would you at least offer her a place to live?”

Gold opened his mouth for an angry retort, but then snapped it shut, smirking as he recalled noticing something.

“Fine,” he said lightly, and turned away, moving to the next bed.

“Fine?” said Dorothy, suspiciously.

“Yes, fine.” He picked up the chart, grinning to himself, and heard her step closer.

“Fine as in you’ll offer Belle a place to stay?”

“Yes,” he said, glancing around to where she was watching him with narrowed eyes. “Just as soon as you arrange yourself a date with the lovely Miss Lucas.”

Dorothy’s mouth fell open as a blush rose in her cheeks, and his grin widened.

“I expect something suitably romantic, none of this ‘just as friends’ nonsense,” he added. “And you’re to text me an update during the evening to let me know how you’re getting along.”

“You’re a bastard,” she said flatly.

“Well, I’m only thinking of your future happiness.”

“But I don’t even know if she likes me!” she protested, and he grinned at her.

“How unfortunate. I guess you can go back to sitting alone in the evenings being miserable as hell.”

Dorothy glowered at him repeating her own words back to her, but nodded reluctantly.

“Fine,” she grumbled. “I’ll stop bugging you about your non-existent sex life, and you stop bugging me about mine. Deal?”

Gold grinned, showing his teeth.

“The deal is struck.”

He put back the final chart and headed for the door of the ward, hoping that his legs wouldn’t give up and pitch him onto the floor.

“If I ever do manage to get a date with Ruby, you and I are revisiting this conversation!” she called after him.

Gold turned slowly on the balls of his feet, and winked at her

“Well, I won’t hold my breath, then.”

Gold took his time driving home, the roads treacherous with compacted snow and patches of ice. His head was aching, his body exhausted, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and sleep for twelve hours. The house was silent when he entered, and he shrugged out of his coat and made his way up the stairs, knocking quietly on the door of the spare bedroom. A sleepy voice answered, and he opened the door to peer in at Belle. She was curled in the bed, blankets pulled up under her chin, dark curls spread out on the pillows and her cheeks flushed, but she sent him a wan smile. Gold walked in and sat down on the edge of the bed, shaking his head at the temperature of her skin.

“You still have a high fever,” he said. “Have you been drinking plenty of water?”

“I’ve mostly been sleeping,” she said, and he nodded.

“Try to sit up. You should drink something.”

She pushed up obediently, arms shaking a little, and he stood up and poured her some water, sitting down again and putting a hand on the back of her shoulder to support her as she drank it. Belle gulped at the water, then lay back down with a heavy sigh. Her head rolled against the pillows, her eyes flicking up to meet his.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“Better than yesterday,” he said. “But I’m a terrible doctor. I managed nothing more technical than finding a little girl’s toy rabbit.”

Belle giggled.

“Well, I’m sure that was very important to her,” she said, and he smiled briefly.

“Perhaps.”

“All those years of medical training may give you lots of knowledge,” she added. “I’m willing to bet they don’t teach much about how to care for people in the little ways that matter, though.”

“Patient welfare isn’t just about getting the right diagnosis and treatment,” he said, and her smile widened.

“See? That’s my point. You care about your patients.”

“Well, don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to maintain,” he quipped, and Belle’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Would you stay with me awhile?” she asked. “I’ll probably fall asleep again, but it would be nice not to feel alone.”

Gold hesitated, looking down at his suit and tie before glancing to the chair at the dresser. He was desperately tired, but if she wanted company, perhaps he could sit with her for a moment. Belle seemed to sense his uncertainty.

“Oh, I didn’t mean for you to sit around like you’re about to go out for dinner,” she said. “Please, go and change. Put some PJs on. There’s enough room on the bed for both of us.”

She patted the blankets beside her, and Gold swallowed hard. Sleeping beside her had been excruciatingly wonderful, and he had just resigned himself to the fact that it would never happen again. And now she was sitting there, with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, gazing at him imploringly from beneath the sheets of his spare bed.

“Just for a little while,” she pleaded. “It’s depressing being alone when you’re sick.”

He hesitated, Dorothy’s words about him sitting alone and miserable echoing around his brain. Had he really been suffering in his solitude before Belle had turned up on his doorstep? He didn’t think so, but then perhaps he had just gotten used to an empty, silent house. He knew that a part of him had wanted it to be a punishment, to shut himself off from the world and wallow in grief and guilt and self-loathing. When had it become a shield? When had he started to take comfort in loneliness?

“It’s - it’s okay if you want to be alone.”

Belle’s voice made him jump, jerking him out of self-reflection and back to the present. She was watching him worriedly.

“I’m sorry,” she went on. “You’ve been around people all day, you probably need some time to yourself. Forget I said anything.”

“Right,” he said lamely.

She smiled then, tired and beautiful, her eyes lighting up the room.

“I’ll maybe see you later,” she added.

“Right,” he said again, his brain screaming at him to stay with her, to talk to her. “I’ll - I’ll bring you some tea.”

She smiled at him, and he stood up, shifting from foot to foot until he managed to move one of them. He stepped back from the bed, reaching for the door handle, and closed the door behind him as he left the room.

#fic: kiss of life #rumbelle fic #my fic #dr gold x candy striper belle #rumbelle

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istgimamess · 6 years ago

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Label: JYP entertainment

Stage name: Song Ha Rin [Ha means great or talented, Rin means unicorn; so yeah, I picked this name for you because you're a great, talented unicorn and you should be protected at all cost, duhh]

Debut year: 2016 (3 years active)

Debut concept: electric pop, upbeat, cute and girly, sassy girl power, dance and vocal heavy

Number of members: 5

Group name: HolyElectric

Fandom name: Sparks

Position: main dancer, vocal line, the mom of the group [because you're super protective, patient and caring]

Male bestie: Choi Minho (SHINee)

How you meet: he's your protector but also your tormentor, if you're being honest! Your first meeting was a bit of a shit show, one minute you're practicing some basic dance moves for a live broadcast and the next you're hanging off the side of the stage in a mess of limbs and covered in water. His necklace tangled in your hair, your heel caught in his belt loop; the both of you soaked beyond repair, an empty water pitcher laying hazardously at the bottom of the stairs. "Umm, you think you can tell your pants to let go of my shoe!?" "Yeah, as soon as your hair releases my necklace.." He pushes at your forehead, palm covering your face completely, nothing happens. You knee at his torso and hip, nothing happens; you both try again. "Ouch! Watch yourself, King Kong! I cant breath!" "Okay, let's not panic! It'll just leave me pantsless and you bald!" After that it was like you were inseparable, quickly becoming friends through the shared experience of that tragic, embarrassing event. Turns out you have a lot in common, personality wise! You're both really sarcastic and just plain goofy; (you have this game, always competing to see who can make the funniest, goofiest faces) so, obviously, you make eachother laugh alot but you're also very protective over one another. "Hey, Minho! HolyElectric's Harin is your best friend, right?" "Yeah, she is! Why?" "Shall we send her a little video!? Quickly do something to make her laugh!" "Harin, I miss you!...(^ gif ^)..."

Female bestie: Tiffany Young (SNSD)

How you meet: you take singing very serious! You're always working on your vocals, trying out new techniques, experimenting with your range; you're very hardworking and your dedication to getting better is something everyone seems to notice about you, right off the bat. So you're always down for vocal classes and one on one's with your vocal coach, always excited to learn something new! And that's how you meet Tiffany, through a friend of a friend of a friend of your vocal coach! You were doing your warm ups, waiting on your teacher to arrive when Tiffany stuck her head in the room to compliment you on your vibrato! You tend to come off as a bit rude, because of how shy you are, so at first it didn't really go well! "Wow, you sound so good! Those runs were amazing!" "Umm, I know..no, I-..I mean, it's not like I think I'm super good or anything..I-..sorry." She ended up laughing your response off and joining you in the room! You quickly became really good friends, constantly listening to music and practicing together; going out for lunch and meeting up on the weekends for some quality shopping time! "Who would you say your best friend is?!" "Oh, she is also a singer! Her name is Harin and she's in the girl group HolyElectric! We hang out together probably every week!" "Oh really!? What are your favorite things to do together!?" "We are both shopoholics, so we're constantly shopping! And afterwards I always drag her out for ice cream because..(^gif^).." Your friendship is so cute!

Group bestie: NCT

How you meet: this is probably the most unconventional way you've ever made a group of friends but it worked, whether you wanted it to or not. There are probably a hand full of things that you absolutely hate in life: people who lie, crabs and bugs are just a few! When faced with any of these, more specifically crabs and/or bugs, you tend to run the opposite way, screaming at the top of your lungs, arms flailing! It's your natural reaction! So when you find yourself being used as a human shield between a grown ass man-child and bugzilla, you're forced to square up and save the man child! "OH MY GOD SAVE ME IT'S GOING TO EAT ME AHHHH EOMMA!!" You're being pulled close, your body picked up and thrown around by the trembling boy! You feel like you might actually vomit but also, oddly enough, you feel really protective; the mom in you suddenly coming out: throwing your fists up in a fighting manner, kicking your feet and swatting the sky in defense. "NOT TODAY, SATAN!!" Eventually the bug gives up on it's hostile takeover, there are about 3 seconds worth of calm and suddenly you're surrounded. "Taeyong! What happened!?" "Yeah, we heard screaming!" "I was attacked!! I thought I was going to die!" "What!? What happened!? Attacked by who!? Are you o-" "Yeah, sorry to interrupt, but are we going to actually sit here and pretend like we don't see the girl Taeyong-hyung is holding up off of the ground like a teddy bear?! We just ignoring that!?" "Haechan, dont be rude!" "How am I being rude!?" "You're always-" "Sorry, can you put me down, my legs are going numb.." And it was all down hill from there! They wouldn't leave you alone, following you around like a group of sassy, over-dramatic puppies! But you don't really mind! They're your biggest supporters, always streaming your music and cheering you on during award season! They also send you little video messages to congratulate you on your wins! "...(^gif^)..." "Wait, are you recording?!" "Yeah, Harin is about to perform so we need to send the message fast!" "But not everybody's here yet!" "Well, tell them to hurry!" They're truly adorable!

Boyfriend: Shin Hoseok/Wonho (Monsta X)

Ship name(s): Ha-Ho, Wonha, Ho-Rin

How you meet: you love, love, love traveling and you get the opportunity to travel a lot, with your job; but that's really not enough to satisfy you! So, whenever you have a day off, you like to travel! Nowhere too far, since you only really have the one day, usually to Japan, or China, any place near by! That's where you meet Wonho, in the airport; one second you're grabbing your baggage, minding your own business and the next you're face-full of chest! "Oooff, I'm so sorry-" "It's okay! It's not everyday cute girls use their face to assault my chest!" He's very sure of himself, very honest and openly flirty and it doesn't take long before his assertiveness pulls you out of your shy shell! You spend the day together, grab some coffee and then hit up the local ramen shop! It doesn't take long for you to become official: redcheeks and sweaty palms, shy confessions underneath the bus station hanger. He's the best boyfriend you could ask for, he's practically whipped! And his group members never let him live it down! "Hey, Wonho! Harin stayed the night last night, didnt she!? But you guys were soooo quiet, in your room! What were you doing!? Quickly, tell the camera!" "...(^gif^)..." They make him suffer, you find it hilarious!

Your biggest fan: Kim Yeri (Red Velvet) is probably your biggest fan! She is constantly making dance covers to your songs, streaming your music and watching your v-lives! "I'm a huge fan of HolyElectric! My favorite is Harin! She's such a good dancer and her vocals are always on point!" She's very vocal about how much she loves you and your music; so much, that even her fans are trying to make it so that she has the opportunity to meet you! "Yeri-unnie! Harin-unnie is your girl crush, right!?" " Yes~...(^gif^)..." "Hopefully you can meet her soon!" It's ridiculously cute!

Scandle: you're a dancer, that's what you truly want to be known as! You've been dancing since you could stand up straight and you've been like a spunge ever since; always trying to gain as much knowledge over the art, as you can! You take extra classes, make covers, mimic other great dancers, you're constantly in the practice room! So, yeah, you dance more than you breathe, this is not a secret! You've also known EXO's Kim Jongin for years, again, not a secret! He was one of the only idols to really reach out and interact with you in your trainee days; always offering to answer any "idol" questions you may have, offering to practice with you, teaching you new dance moves, critiquing your performances before every evaluation! He quickly ended up becoming your greatest teacher, an even greater friend, almost like a brother! So it's no shocker you're photographed together, a lot: Jongin entering your apartment building, Jongin picking you up and taking you out for dinner, you entering Jongin's apartment building etc. What is a bit shocking? The headlines that come with those photos, when Dispatch drops them. 'Neitizens get a HolyElectric shock when EXO's Kai takes new girl friend!' and 'HolyElectric's Harin sparks new dating rumors! Could EXO's Kim Jongin be the one?!' It was a bit confusing! "What the?! 'Could EXO's Kim Jongin be the one?!' What Disney movie is this!?" "The good kind, one with a great soundtrack and a beautiful dance number! You should feel lucky!" "I just threw up a little bit.." It's really cruel how much Jongin's enjoying your discomfort!

Other activities: obviously you're a great dancer, singer and all around performer but sometimes you really just want to be challenged! So when you're management team signs you up for a spot in 'The King of Mask Singer' singing competition, you're both super excited and super nervous! It ends up going well and you gain a ton of new friends and even more fans from the experience! "It was so fun! I didnt know singing could be so exhilarating!" "So what?! You want to give up dance and become the next Mariah Carey?! Good choice! Less competition for me~" "Jongin, I will cut you.." What a massive dork!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@bbwonho here is your private idol life ship! I hope you like it~ Let me know what you think! 😌

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jamiebluewind · 6 years ago

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The Hidden Rose: Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Vigilant, The Active, The Brave

Notes

Virgil's perspective

Word Count: 1755

Chapter Warnings: anxiety, mild panic attack, cursing (please message me if I missed any)

Links

The Hidden Rose: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Virgil didn't know what was off, but something was off. He did his best to keep the feeling from impacting Thomas. He stayed on top of his breathing exercises. He listened to music while scrolling through Tumblr. He made sure to eat and sleep regularly. Nothing helped. He could still feel something humming through his being saying that he needed to keep his guard up. That Thomas was in danger.

When a feeling of dread hit him so hard it nearly took his breath away, he started looking for a source. At first, he assumed it was Deceit, but after trailing him for two days he ruled him out. Then he checked and double checked everything going on in Thomas' life before checking on his friends and family. After sifting through all the data, the only thing he found was that Thomas had been a little unproductive lately and Joan forgot their jacket last week.

Running out of ideas, he pulled up their version of YouTube which contained every video Thomas had ever watched. He filtered to show only videos Thomas himself was in and that were under six months old before settling in. There was always a chance that the source of his dread had been caught on camera. He tried to listen in on most of the videos, but there was a chance that he missed something. If not, there were worse ways to spend a day.

The minutes ticked by. Virgil found that he was really enjoying himself. It was fun seeing everything from a new perspective. Thomas seemed fine for the most part. Patton had his smile back. Logan seemed better than normal... if a bit more sticky. And Roman was... Roman was...

“Wait,” Virgil whispered to himself as he skipped backward ten seconds at a time. He furrowed his brows and chewed on the corner of his nail as he stared at the prince. Something about the way Roman moved was wrong and his eyes didn't hold their normal fire. Virgil had noticed something similar in their last meeting, but shrugged it off. He thought Roman was having an off day.

The video went on. Roman got worse. Virgil slowed the speed, but the camera didn't lie. The something that was off was Roman and whatever was going on was serious.

---

Virgil wracked his brain for how Roman looked the last time he saw him. Had it really been three weeks? “Shit,” Virgil hissed. A lot can go wrong in three weeks.

Virgil sunk down into the commons and called for Roman, but nothing happened. He focused on where Roman's room would be housed inside Thomas' mind, but he couldn't feel anything. Panicking, he sunk down again and appeared in Thomas' house.

“Thomas!” he screamed. He scanned the room. It was dark and he couldn't hear a TV meaning Thomas had to be in bed. He turned to run up the stairs only to be blocked by an invisible force. He beat against it as his heart pounded in his chest.

An idea popped in his head. He morphed into Talyn and held out his hand. It passed through. “Damn reality column,” Virgil muttered as he climbed the stairs. He held onto his pants to keep them from falling off his much smaller frame.

Virgil turned the doorknob leading into Thomas' bedroom and threw open the door. He was greeted by a screaming Thomas who fell off his bed with a thump. The headphone jack jerked out of his discarded laptop causing the familiar sounds of The Office to fill the room. “Thomas!” Virgil screamed. It came out softer and higher than what he was used to.

“Talyn?!?” Thomas replied in shock. “WHAT THE HELL!?!”

Virgil held up a finger. “First off, not Talyn,” he said before holding up another finger. “Second, call Roman.”

Thomas squinted his eyes. “Virgil?” he asked, somehow even more confused than before.

Virgil took a deep breath and tried to calm himself while releasing just enough anxiety to trigger the adrenaline Thomas needed to focus. “Yes,” he answered. “I had to change into Talyn to get up here. Something is wrong with Roman and I can't reach him. I need your help.”

Thomas blinked rapidly before nodding. “We should head downstairs so I can call Patton and Logan too. They might be able to help.”

---

The two made their way downstairs. Virgil took his place at his regular spot and reverted back to his normal form. He breathed in and started counting. Whatever was going on, Roman and Thomas needed Virgil as calm as possible.

Thomas turned on the lights and walked to the center of the room. “Logan? Patton?” Thomas called. The two sides in question popped up. Logan stood in a unicorn onesie holding a cup of tea. Patton stood in a cat onesie with a coloring book in his left hand and a blue crayon in his right.

“Little late to be shooting a video, hey kiddo?” Patton said with a smile. He somehow still gave off a fatherly aura despite his wardrobe.

“Agreed,” Logan stated now having dispersed of the cup and changed into his normal attire. “This is highly unusual behavior.”

“It's not for a video guys,” Thomas said looking solemn. “Virgil informed me that he can't reach Roman, so I brought you guys here just in case something is wrong. Have either of you seen him recently?”

Logan raised his left hand to his chin. “I believe the last time I spoke with him was thirteen days ago,” he answered as he crossed his arms. “He looked tired, but no more so than when he has an idea and stays up a day or so working on it. The last correspondence I had was when I sent him a memo detailing the aborted surprise party and subsequent low-key gift exchange. He simply returned the unopened letter with the word 'NO' written in red ink. That was six days ago.” He paused before sighing. “At the time, I just assumed he was being more exhausting than normal.”

“It was maybe a week for me,” Patton replied. His hands had dropped to his sides. Worry seemed to overtake his entire being. Virgil's heart broke at the sight. “He had missed two movie nights, so I went to his room. It was messier than normal, but not bad. I went up to his bedroom and knocked...” tears stared to flow. “He said he was fine,” he said through a choked sob. “That he had been busy and he was sorry. He promised to come to the next one. I should have... I... I should have...”

“Patton,” Thomas said, calm but firm with his hand raised towards the trembling father figure. “It's okay. We're gonna fix this. Okay?” Patton nodded in return.

Thomas looked toward the TV. “Roman?” he called. Nothing happened. Thomas shifted his feet. “Roman,” he said louder and with more authority. Again nothing. “Guys...” he said looking towards the others. “It's not working.”

The sides looked at each other hoping for answers, but it was Logan who spoke. “Thomas...” he said tapping his chin. “When was the last time you created anything?”

Thomas paused to think before pulling out his phone. “Five days ago,” he replied. “I posted a short.”

“How do you feel about it?” Logan continued.

Thomas gave him a puzzled look. “It's just a video,” he said. “It's not really good or bad, but it did get my average number of likes.”

“And how long since you have seen a handsome young man?” Logan asked in a way far more serious than the question seemed to warrant.

“Um...” Thomas said, quickly blinking like he just had cold water thrown in his face. “I have no idea, but I haven't left the house in days, so-”

“Not even in your dreams?” Logan asked, cutting Thomas off.

“No...” Thomas replied. “Actually, I haven't dreamed in a while either.”

Logan adjusted his glasses as the others exchanged knowing glances. He raised his left hand. “No creativity, no ego, no dreams, and no acknowledgment of those within the perimeters of your normal attraction,” he stated as he gestured with each point. “You are currently without Roman's influence.”

“He's cut off,” Virgil said. His eyes were wide, but his voice was quiet and calm.

“Like you were?” Patton asked Virgil, his eyes pleading.

Virgil shook his head, trying not to see Patton deflate. “No...” he said. “With me I cut myself off, but this... it's like his room isn't even there.”

Logan closed his eyes as if searching for it himself. When they opened again, they were filled with rage. He pushed a breath hard and fast past his lips like he was trying to blow out a room full of candles. “It's still there,” he said, “but his entire room has been blocked off, keeping any energy from escaping and getting to Thomas. Roman is most likely sealed inside.”

“Well,” Virgil said. His crooked smile took on a menacing tone as he stood to his full height, “looks like we have to go get him then.”

“Do you need me to take you there?” Thomas asked.

The three sides stood still for a moment as each tried to sink down to Roman's room. Nothing happened.

“Sorry kiddo,” Patton replied. “We can't get in without you.” His sad frown turned up at the corners with a bit of mischief. “Whoever put up the barrier must have used a pat-lock.”

Logan groaned. “Must you do that even now?” he said.

Patton shrugged. “What can I say? I can never key-p a good pun to myself.”

Virgil couldn't help but smile at Patton. Even though he was worried about Roman, he was still trying to lighten the mood. He was always looking out for them.

Virgil looked over at Thomas. He could feel the anxiety buzzing inside him just out of sight. “You ready for this?” he asked.

Thomas took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Yeah,” he said. “Let's go save Roman.” Thomas brought his fingertips to his temples. “Picturing my fantasies and wildest dreams.”

“I'm getting a migraine already,” Logan mumbled as they began to sink down.

“Padre's coming for ya kiddo!” Patton said with a shout.

“You better be okay Princy,” Virgil said to himself. He closed his eyes as they hit the dark space between. “Please be okay.”

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #anxiety #jamie bluewind fic #the hidden rose #angst #prinxiety #tsfic #bluewind writes

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meshugana1 · 6 years ago

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Another idea, Rich's(28) girlfriend is tired of all her friends having babies and kids and wants one of her own. Rich disagrees. She ends up cursing him as he finds himself getting dumber and childish as he regressed to her little 3 year old toddler girl trapped in diapers he can't help but use while he can no longer read or do math or even speak properly.

“Come on Rich, let’s just be mature and talk about it,” Ricki said. Her head hung low and her hands wore out the couch she sat on.“Babe, I really can’t talk about this, not again. I don’t care if all your buddies are doing it. I’m not ready to be a dad.”“Well, when will you be ready? For Christ’s sake your almost thirty, how much longer do I need to wait? Or are you hoping I’ll hit menopause before you’re ‘ready’?”“Don’t play that card, you know what my childhood was like.”“That excuse wore itself out a long time ago, Rich. I want a baby, I need a baby, why can’t you understand that?”“I do, I just don’t care. Do you forget just home much we earn? How much our car payments are? Our mortgage? And you want to drop a baby on top of that? I know you’re a woman and all but why don’t you take a second to actually think things through for once in your life?”“You think this is just cause I’m a woman? I can’t believe you! I told all my sisters you were different, that you really cared, but you’re just a sexist pig like all the rest!” Rich had had this conversation many times with countless women. The ending never really varied, they all leave him and find someone better.

He braced, letting her vent, it always went over better that way. But all he heard from her was her irate breathing. “I try, goddamnit I try so hard Rich. I just wanted to talk, that’s all. But you and your damn stupid attitude, well fine. You don’t want to talk? You don’t have to talk ever again!” Rich felt weird energy about the room as she screamed at him. He was used to the yelling, but it almost felt like the room was hotter. It was a penetrating heat, the kind that drains you and makes your eyes flutter. Rich felt that as his head started to swoon, he slumped into his chair and saw Ricki grab her coat and storm out, not five minutes later he was asleep and elusive dreams played out in front of his eyes.

Rich woke up to the smell of burning bacon, a trademark of Ricki’s cooking. He bristled, surprised she had stuck around unlike so many others, but expecting she did so only because she had much more to yell. Sitting up, something about his clothing felt just the slightest bit off, but sleeping in a lazy boy will do that. He carefully opened the door, finding Ricki at the stove. That was concerning enough, but she also hummed a lighthearted tune that didn’t really seem to fit the tenor of her rage last night. “Oh good, you’re up. I was worried that you might sleep right through breakfast.”“Um, thanks? But aren’t you like, mad? You were yelling pretty loud last night,” Rich said. He shifted from foot to foot awkwardly, rubbing his arm expecting the hammer to drop. Instead, she smiled, a motherly sort of smile. “Oh sweetie, it’s all water under the bridge. You were right, I was getting a little emotional, but I’ve taken some steps to fix everything, don’t you worry.” Rich was stunned, this was new. He smiled and practically felt like dancing. He nearly skipped to the table as Ricki brought him a platter of eggs, hash-browns, and various meats.

Usually Rich didn’t go in for such lavish breakfasts, but this was apparently her form of apology. She didn’t wait for him to grab his fork and speared a healthy amount of scrambled eggs, bringing the prongs near his mouth. Still unwilling to rekindle the rage he saw last night, he opened his mouth and allowed her to feed him. It was surprisingly relaxing for him, there was a small part of him that said that this was emasculating, but it was much quieter than it normally was. He was also surprised by the quality of the food she was giving him. Typically, she could only produce black charcoal to eat, she must have been practicing lately. The thought of her, slaving away at a cookbook, working hard to improve herself, made a pit of guilt for in Rich’s stomach. Before he had time to apologize or truly process that guilt, his meal was done she ushered him to their room to prepare for the workday.

He donned his usual business casual outfit, he didn’t vary too much in his work attire. This morning, however, his clothing didn’t quite sit right. His shoulders seemed almost narrower and his shirt sleeves rubbed against his wrists. His belt even required an extra notch to hold his pants up, that one was at least welcome. But, once again, before he had any time to process these laundry accidents, Ricki had handed him a bottle of water and a lunch and encouraged him into the car, which in another uncharacteristic move, she drove.

“Have a good day, Sweetie! I’ll pick you up later, just going to do some shopping.” Ricki said.“But, I can drive myself—” Rich began.“Don’t be silly, this way saves on gas and time. Now march on up there and make me proud.” Ricki said as she sped away, leaving Rich with very little choice in the matter. Rich stared at the tall building, feeling alone. His cuff chaffed his wrist, his bag lunch felt heavy in his hand, and he felt an odd sense of being out of place. His feeling was only compounded when he stepped through the threshold of the office door. The firm was already crawling with activity, which only served to unsettle Rich more. Everything seemed larger, not just in the physical sense, it almost seemed like everything here wasn’t meant for him. His awkward pace wasn’t peppy enough for someone, and he soon heard his name, followed by several expletives, and was commanded to join the others in the boardroom.

“Alright everybody, I’m only gonna say this once, we’re in real deep shit. Our clients are pulling out, controversy after controversy has desensitized the public and they’re more litigious and organized than ever. If this advertising company is gonna survive, as it has managed to do for the past hundred years, we need a fresh new take. Something that will appease those whiny fuckin’ millennial and our diehards. I am not gonna be the one at the helm when this company goes down, so if anyone has an idea, you better speak up now.” Rich only feigned attention. He was a supposed to care, he wanted to care but something, a hazy sense of boredom held him back from it. It was as though the CEO were miles away speaking to him. An intern, especially one as hungry as he was should’ve leaped at the opportunity, sunk his claws into it and never let go. But instead, Rich sat quietly and doodled in a yellow legal pad. His scribbles were nothing a twenty-eight-year-old should be proud of, but in his mind, he was crafting a masterwork. Unicorns danced in fields, ballerina knights slew smelly dragons, and princesses adorned themselves with the prettiest dresses imaginable. “Who the hell are you?!” The CEO called out, directly at him. It was so loud and so jarring that it snapped him back violently to reality and his head swirled trying to regain his bearings. “M—me?” He said.“Yeah, you. This is a staff meeting and I certainly didn’t hire any teens recently. Are somebody’s kid or what?” Rich darted his eyes to and from each coworker, silently asking for help of any kind. ��Um, I’m Rich, the intern?” He said, as unsure as everyone else seemed to be.“Bullshit. That guy is almost thirty, you little missy don’t look a day over sixteen. Now tell me who you are or get out, I’m not in the mood to play babysitter.” Sixteen? Missy? What was he talking about? But as Rich stood up and his shirt cuff swallowed his hand, and his pants nearly fell to his ankles, he had an idea of why he said what he said.

Rich did as he was told and shuffled out of the boardroom, retaining his pants to his waist with his hand. His cheeks felt hot and his eyes were growing misty with anxious confusion. His first instinct was to run to the bathroom as fast as his small legs could take him. Is it secured hand slammed and locked the door. He approached the mirror cautiously, his boss hadn’t even recognized him and though there was no reason for it his legs moved like weights and his dress shirt dad is misty eyes preparing him for what he would see. In the cheap mirror, he could find almost no trace himself. His angular features had softened, his cheeks were puffy, his eyes were red, and here it lost and no less than a foot and a half of his former 5 foot 10. He watched his bottom lip quiver as his eyes search for any sort of answer. His shirt hung limply on slender shoulders and his hands could not be seen, but they felt delicate as if never having seen a day of work. His belt was all but useless and his pants fell to the floor. The elastic band of his underwear still did its job, but even beneath that had not been spared from whatever was happening to him. His cock was nothing to write home about before, but now it’s imprinted in his underwear is barely visible and to his distraught eyes seemed to grow even smaller.

His legs panicked and he ran back to his desk giving no thought to his state of dress. He scrambles for the receiver of his office phone neither caring nor aware of the eyes watching his diminutive form. He punched in the numbers for Ricki’s phone, he knew the number by heart. At least he thought he did. Instead of his beautiful girlfriend, a crotchety old man answered the phone demanding why he called him at such a late hour. Rich apologized, claiming the old excuse or the wrong number. His finger must have slipped, so he tried again and of this time connected with the New York Museum of Natural History. He tried a third, fourth, and the fifth time, failing each. His eyes were no longer misty and full sorrowful tears cascaded down his soft cheeks. He sat on the floor using his sleeve to wipe his eyes, his shirt now functioning more like a dress. His coworkers around him stood confused, wondering just who have brought their daughter into work today. Before anyone else could take charge of the situation, someone strode in from the main door and kneeled down near the distraught 28-year-old man who sat in a small puddle of fear induced urine. “Shhh, it’s alright sweetie, mommy’s here.“

“Alright now raise those arms!” Ricki said with a smile, feeling a purer joy that she could recall. The tiny, wet little girls arms shot into the air excitedly, happy to feel her mothers warm embrace again. The towel collected every stray bit of water that’s still clung to her body. “Okey-dokey sweetie, is my big girl ready for her diaper?“ She didn’t wait for an answer as she collected the supplies to change little girl. It was a well practice procedure by now and she already laid on the changing mat ready. She squeals excitedly as the powder tickled her thighs and covered her exposed bottom. Each noise of excitement fills Ricki with happiness that just days ago she felt she would never hear. Once the tapes are secured, the excitable little girl hops up and latches onto her mother’s leg. She doesn’t see the soft tear escaping from her mother’s eyes. “I didn’t want it to go this way Rich, but I’m so happy it did,” she said she lumbered into the kitchen, the happy weight still clinging to her leg, to prepare a beautiful steak dinner for herself, and a sliced hot dog for her beautiful daughter.

The End. Hope Y’all like it!

#age regression #gender bender #transgendered age regression #shrinking #revenge #request

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