#Magic T-shirt fir kids | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

svnflowervol666 · 4 years

Text

Ma Petite Chérie: Christmas Now (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Read more from this little universe, Ma Petite Chérie, in my masterlist!

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Their first Christmas as a family of four. Underwhelming gifts, naughty kitchen counter shenanigans, being suspicious of Santa Claus, baby kissies, oat milk.

Author’s Note: Baby bub is here! I’ve been so excited to finally be able to write about them, and I’m even more excited that you all get to read about them! This is the second part of my Christmas bits for this year. Unlike the last one, this one is obnoxiously adorable and no where near as upsetting (I really hurt my own feelings with that one). Reblogs, likes, tags, and feedback of any kind is always greatly appreciated! If you don’t see me before the year is up, I want to wish you a Happy New Year! Enjoy, take care, and tpwk.

“Two.”

“No. One.”

“Two.”

“One.”

“Four.”

“Now that’s just bein’ greedy,” Harry spoke in a wounded tone with his brows furrowed together as if he were genuinely offended.

“But if Santa’s coming tonight and bringing more presents, why can’t I open these ones right now?”

Tallulah was on her knees in front of the sofa, fingers laced together with her chin resting on top of them. She was quite literally begging her father, who sat above her with one leg crossed over the other and an arm slung around his wife, to allow her to open the gifts that were prematurely nestled underneath the festive fir tree in their living room. Well, they weren’t married yet, but Harry couldn’t help that he preferred how the word felt rolling off of his tongue than “fiance.”

“Because they’re Christmas presents,” he stressed.

“Makes no sense t’ open them the day before.”

His freshly six-year-old daughter clearly didn’t like that answer - the pouty jut on her lip and subsequent huff told Harry all he needed to know.

“I already told ya, sweet pea. You can open one tonight. That’s it. The rest are for tomorrow.”

“Fiiiiiine,” the small girl said, although it was implied in her tone that it very much was not.

Tallulah hobbled over to the tree whilst still on her knees, and began riffling through the small litter of perfectly wrapped boxes to inspect which one would elicit the most satisfaction on her end. She seemed keen on a rather large one, decorated with tartan print and a red gift tag that read, “To: Lulah, From: Daddy & Mummy.” What she hadn’t realized, though, was that Harry had already made the selection for her.

“Not tha’ one,” Harry reprimanded over the steaming mug of coffee in the hand that wasn’t rubbing circles on Y/N’s shoulder.

He typically strayed away from caffeine this late in the evening, but he knew he was in for a long night of waiting up until Tallulah was fast asleep so he could take on the role of Santa and deliver all of the gifts he had promised her for being good enough to make an appearance on the Nice List. Knowing how much shit he had packed in his office that stayed locked this time of year, he really wasn’t sure how he was going to do it successfully.

Another exasperated sigh left his eldest child’s lips, to which she replied, “But this one’s the biggest.”

“But it’s not the one we want yeh t’ open, Lulah. ‘S the one with polar bears on it,” Harry stated, though not with full confidence.

“It is the one with polar bears on it, right?” he whispered to Y/N.

This earned a laugh from Y/N, who muttered a quiet, “Yes,” in return. She laid her head in the crook of Harry’s neck, basking in the warmth that radiated from his body. He smelled like cinnamon and the nutmeg-flavored coffee beans he’d ground up just a few minutes before, and maybe a hint like baby barf.

Tallulah scavenged the space under the tree like a predator hunting its prey - all on the lookout for the present fitting the description Harry had given her. Harry and Y/N found themselves thoroughly entertained by watching her overturn almost every gift, and shared a similar giggle when she narrowed in on the box in question before letting out a victorious, “Aha!” into the room only lit by a firelog in the chimney.

“Grab the one for Olive too, please. Don’t want her feelin’ left out,” Harry called out to Talulah.

“Okay, daddy!”

Her small arms stretched to the limit, trying to grab both packages without toppling over onto the others. Tallulah noted that they both felt the exact same underneath the wrapping paper, only her baby sister’s was much smaller than the one addressed to her.

“They feel like clothes,” Tallulah stated matter-of-factly as she took back her place on the floor with both presents in hand.

Harry sighed, leaning down to rest his mug near his feet against the sofa.

“Good grief. Just open it, will yeh?”

She needed no further instruction. Her fingers dug into the paper, piercing it with her nails and ruining the pastel blue parchment that was covered in dozens of cartoon polar bears partaking in various yoga poses. When Tallulah was able to tear the gift away from its wrapping, her hands grasped something soft.

“It’s....pajamas.”

Her tone was flat and unamused. Harry sensed her disappointment, though in his heart he certainly felt like he’d done a great job concocting his plan to have her open this particular gift on Christmas Eve.

“Yeah, but they’re Christmas pajamas. Don’t yeh want t’ look nice when Santa comes to visit tonight?”

This seemed to...disturb Tallulah. That was really the only way to describe how she looked at her dad - with her eyebrows scrunched up and her normally-plush lips pressed together in a thin line.

“...He’s gonna come in my room when I’m sleeping?”

Y/N hadn’t meant to, but a loud cackle erupted from her chest, which jostled the four-month-old baby girl that had the beginnings of sleepiness settling into her body. In contrast to the laugh from Y/N, Olive let out the tiniest of shrills, obviously upset that her mother had interupted the peacefulness she’d felt whilst being curled up against her chest.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, bubby,” Y/N cooed quitely, quickly moving to pat her daughter’s bum and comfort her.

“Mummy didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Y/N pressed a quick kiss to the sparse tufts of hair atop Olive’s head before returning her attention back to Tallulah.

“Lulah, I promise you that Santa will not come in your room while you’re sleeping. What your dad means,” she snuck a glance in Harry’s direction in which he smirked back at her, “Is that you want to look nice on Christmas morning, don’t you? You know Nana’s gonna take a thousand pictures of you and Olive tomorrow, so now you don’t have to change when she gets here, yeah?”

Tallulah nodded, though it didn’t do much to lift her spirits. She fumbled the cream-colored thermal set adorned with gold stars between her fingers, the motion she was always somehow doing whether it be to her dad’s t-shirt while she laid next to him during a movie, Y/N’s lotus pendant when she was smaller and could fit on her chest, or otherwise.

“Plus,” Y/N added, a hint of irony in her voice, “I’d imagine the presents Santa’s going to bring you are much less boring than this.”

They shared a knowing smile, Tallulah’s cheeks growing rosey and her eyes twinkling at the mention of the magical, bearded man.

“I’m offended,” Harry scoffed.

“Really thought those pajamas were proper cute.”

“They are cute, daddy!” Tallulah chimed in, “I like them a lot. Thank you.”

It appeared that the young girl had realized her moping about not receiving the nail polish kit she’d asked for didn’t do her any good. And whether Harry was joking about being upset or not, she’d never want to hurt her dad’s feelings. He’d raised her too kindly to do otherwise.

“You’re welcome, bug,” Harry smiled at her.

“Let’s help Olive open hers, yeah?”

“I bet it’s pajamas,” Tallulah mumbled under her breath.

That earned her a light tug on one of her two braided plaits on her head from Harry. The two of them chuckled at each other, their faces almost looking like identical portraits of each other.

“Humor me for a second then, Lulah. ‘S your sister’s first Christmas.”

Tallulah scoots over on the floor to stand on her knees, this time by Y/N’s legs as she turned Olive around to sit up straight in her lap. Olive, who was once determined to fall asleep right there on the couch beside her mum and dad, was now awake and had taken an interest in the crinkling sound of the wrapping paper on the gift her big sister placed on top of her chunky thighs.

“Here, Livvy,” Tallulah cooed, “You tear it like this.”

She tried to show Olive how to tear away the present by ripping it halfway open, but her effort proved to be unsuccessful the second Olive managed to get her fingers around a scrap of paper and immediately placed it in her mouth. It appeared that Olive was much more interested in the gift wrap than she was her early Christmas present.

“Well, there goes that,” Harry said as he fetched the then soggy parchment from his infant daughter’s lips, making somewhat of a disgusted face as he wiped the excess drool on the leg of his pants.

Tallulah takes the honor of opening Olive’s present for her, and is unable to stop herself from rolling her eyes when her eyes meet a set of thermal pajamas like the ones she’d just received herself, only Olive’s were green with tiny, silver stars. She’d parted her lips to make an undoubtedly flippant comment, but Harry cut her off before she even had the chance to mutter the first syllable.

“Don’t do it, stink head,” Harry quipped, reaching for the discarded paper that was scattered on the rug beneath him so he could put it in the bin later.

“How about you go put on your lovely new pajamas so we can get everything set up f’ Santa to come, alright?”

“Okayyyyyy,” the small girl grumbled before snatching the thermal set from the floor and darting off to her room.

“That didn’t really go the way I hoped,” Harry mumbled as he reached over to take Olive from Y/N.

“It’s Christmas, baby,” Y/N reminded him.

“Kids want toys, not pajamas.”

“Yeah but,” Harry focused his attention at worming the tight-fitting pajamas up his baby girl’s abnormally chubby legs.

“’S what mum used t’ do for us when we were little. Always got pajamas on Christmas Eve. Figured it’d be nice t’ do it for the girls, too.”

“It is sweet, Harry. Just wouldn’t expect a six-year-old to be that enthused about it,” Y/N snickered.

Harry hummed in agreement, his tongue poked out as he fed Olive’s arm into the tight sleeve of her top, struggling a bit to get her balled up fist through the other side.

“Ahh, there we go. Thank god ya only have t’ wear these tomorrow, Chunk. They’ll be too snug by next week.”

“Leave my fat baby alone,” Y/N scolded.

“There’s nothing wrong with being well fed,” she added, leaning over to lightly pinch on her daughter’s round tummy in an attempt to get her to smile at her.

A gummy grin took over Olive’s features at the sight of her mother, a true mummy’s girl at heart. She was much like Tallulah in many ways, but so different at the same time. Olive was still nearly bald, whereas Tallulah’s hair grew like a sprout when she was Olive’s age. Tallulah had always been teeny tiny, no doubt due to her premature birth, and Olive clearly made up in weight for what Tallulah lacked when she was a baby. They both loved cuddles with Harry and listening to the sound of his voice as they fell asleep, but it always puzzled him when Olive didn’t respond to some of his antics in the way that Tallulah had.

“‘M not bein’ mean. I’d jump on the chance to suck on your tits all day if I could, too.”

“Har-” Y/N began to reprimand him about how she can’t say that because there are little ears in the room, but was stopped short.

“I’m back! Can we set out the cookies now?”

Tallulah breathed heavily as if she just sprinted a marathon into the living room.

“Sure can,” Harry responded.

“Come tell Livvy good night first, though. Mummy’s gotta feed her and put her t’ bed.”

She smiled at the mention of her little sister, whom she was always keeping at an arm’s reach. If Tallulah was awake, she was in the same room as Olive. It made Harry’s heart ache in the best way to watch the two of them interact with each other. The feeling he felt when he first saw Olive in Tallulah’s arms at the hospital never subsided. He was absolutely besotted for his girls.

“Bonne nuit, ma petite soeur,” Tallulah whispered to Olive, reaching down to hug her sister and kiss the crown of her head, which she happily accepted in the form of weaving her pudgy fingers into Tallulah’s braids and pulling them rather harshly.

Before he handed her off to Y/N to be fed and put down for the night, he gave Olive a kiss of his own.

“Bonne nuit, ma petite chérie.”

“‘How do you know Santa likes oat milk? Did he tell you that? Luna at school told me he likes chocolate almond milk.’ What kinda shit is that?!” Harry exclaimed with a mouth full of sugar cookie and in the quietest voice he could muster.

He’d just spent the last hour with Y/N, silently digging Tallulah’s gifts from Santa out of his office and placing them underneath the tree. Thankfully, he hadn’t tripped over his own feet and woken her up or else he would have cried right there on the spot.

All Y/N could do was giggle back at him from where she sat on top of the counter, bare legs swinging as she had a mouthful of the very same oat milk in question swishing in her mouth.

“She’s asking too many questions n’ I don’t like it one bit.”

“Think she’s just growing up, babe. The magic doesn’t last forever. She’s about at that age. Probably only have one or two more Christmases before she figures it out.”

Harry stared at the remaining half of the frosted cookie Tallulah left for Santa in his palm, eyes quiet and sullen.

“Don’t like that one bit, either,” he muttered.

“I know you don’t, bubby,” Y/N cooed, pulling Harry into her so he stood between her parted legs on the countertop.

“But you’ve still got Olive.”

He seemed to perk up at that, looking up at her through thick lashes with a smirk.

“Just Olive? We stoppin’ there?”

“I mean,” Y/N pursed her lips.

“Wouldn’t mind trying for a boy.”

Harry placed his hands on either side of her thighs, stroking her skin with his thumbs.

“Might not happen on the first go, though,” he tisked.

“Could take havin’ a few more for that t’ happen. Yeh alright with that?”

“As long as you’re not tired of me by then, then sure,” Y/N jested.

“’M never gonna be tired of you.”

He leaned in close to her, touching his forehead to hers. He was a split second away from kissing her, but then Y/N spoke up again.

“Harry,” she called out.

“Hmm,” Harry’s voice oozed with desire and darkness beginning to turn his eyes a deep shade of juniper.

“Can I please have a bite of your cookie?”

He softly bumped his forehead against hers as they both broke out into a fit of chuckles.

“Allumeuse,” Harry uttered, raising the sickeningly sweet cookie to her lips.

She chewed the baked good tantilizingly slow, making a scene of rolling her eyes back and moaning as if the taste was euphoric.

“Tu aimes ça,” she snided.

“Je fais.”

The two sat in silence after that, finishing up what was left of the small plate of sweets Tallulah had left by the chimney. It wasn’t often that the house was this quiet. Normally, there was a crying Olive to attend to or a needy Tallulah begging for one of them to get more paper out of Harry’s office printer so she could draw pictures of the plants in their garden out back. It would have been eerie, had the multi-colored lights from their Christmas tree not illuminated the majority of their open living space. The twinkling bulbs brought a sense of peacefulness about them. Maybe it was the season, or maybe it was because they’d been feeling so grateful for their small family as of late.

“Honey,” Harry broke the silence.

“What?” she looked up from where she’d been fussing with the hem of her shorts decorated with tiny snowflakes.

“Yeh got a little,” he gestured to her mouth before bringing his thumb to the corner of Y/N’s mouth.

Harry swiped a rogue dollop of blue frosting that rested there and pressed it onto her tongue. She wrapped her lips around his digit, sucking lightly to remove the sticky icing from his skin. Her eyes met his, not once straying as he applied just the slightest bit more of pressure with his thumb. He noted the way her breathing slowed and how she gently shuddered when he tightened the grip of her jaw with the rest of his fingers.

“So pretty,” he purred, marveling at the sight in front of him.

God, how Harry wished it weren’t just his finger resting on the soft, welcoming warmth of her tongue.

Y/N slid off his thumb with a calculated pop of her lips, licking them to ensure she’d rid herself completely of any stray crumbs.

“Kissy?” she posed, smirking.

“I’d be pretty rotten if I said no,” Harry replied before pressing his mouth against hers.

She wrapped her arms around him, forcing him to stand flush against the counter and even closer to her body. He teased her with this tongue, gliding it along the plush skin of the inside of her lip. Y/N welcomed him and parted her lips enough for Harry to get through. Both of them taste the saccharine remnants of the cookies they’d shared, and soon all that’s heard in the house are the suckling noises and heavy pants coming from Harry and Y/N. It’s not loud enough to be a disturbance, but it’s just enough to have them both yearning for more.

“Talk t’ me, lapine,” Harry broke away from her for long enough to mumble one sentence, still pressed against her lips.

“Tell me what yeh want.”

“Want you,” Y/N said in a shaky exhale, chasing Harry’s mouth to reconnect with her own.

“Yeah?” he taunted.

“Want me right here in the kitchen?”

“Ideally, no. But I wouldn’t stop you.”

She parted her legs even wider, attempting to rut against the thick fabric of Harry’s fleece sweatpants. Her center met something stiff and Harry pulled her even closer by the flesh of both bum cheeks, massaging them with his massive palms in a manner that he knew drove her mad.

“That’d be pretty naughty of us, wouldn’t it? Not sure if Santa would approve of that one.”

Before she’s given a chance to respond, Harry snuck his hand between their thighs and began softly petting Y/N over her shorts. Her head fell back in pleasure, temporarily detaching her lips from Harry’s. She knows she can’t make a single sound or else she’ll wake up the entire house so she just sits there with her brows furrowed, silently gasping and letting these sweet, broken moans spill from her throat that spur Harry on even further.

“Can feel you even through your fuckin’ shorts, Y/N,” he grunted, slowing grinding against his own palm that was the only thing separating him from her heat.

This time, it’s Y/N that reached between them, feeling for the stifness that lies between his legs. She wraps her fingers around him through his sweatpants, leisurely tugging at his cock. Harry’s all but forced to begin sucking on the sensitive skin of her neck to keep himself from crying out at the contact, working at blossoming deep lilac and mulberry colored bruises there.

“Bet you could cum just like this, couldn’t you?” he muffles into her collarbone.

Y/N hummed, crossing her legs around Harry’s back as he began to focus his attention to rubbing her clit over the material of her shorts.

“Bet you could too,” she whined.

“’S that what you want, hm? Want me t’ make you cum without even touchin’ you right?”

“‘M not gonna have a choice if you don’t do something else pretty soon.”

She sped up the work she’s doing near Harry’s crotch, paying mind to what she can make of his tip between his boxers. With her thumb, she rubbed expert circles around him, massaging him in the way that he’s doing to her. Both of them could feel it, the slow build up of pressure deep in their abdomen - a coil winding tighter and tight with the threat of snapping.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N.”

He was biting her neck now, completely consumed by the feeling of both the damp patch seeping through Y/N’s shorts and onto his fingers and the precum dripping onto her more delicate ones through his sweatpants.

In an attempt to not embarass himself like a horny teenager, Harry withdrew his hand from in between her thighs and places it around her bum all in the same breath. Y/N sighed defeatedly at the loss of friction against the place she needed it most, dropping her head into Harry’s shoulder and whining rather noisily. Before she even has the chance to curse him for stopping, he scooped her off the counter with all of his strength and began walking both of them to their bedroom so he could fuck her properly.

Their lips detach when Harry drops her onto the bed and a woosh of air leaves the down comforter, causing the hem of Y/N’s top to fly up and expose her tummy. She still wore the deep, almost-metallic stretch marks she’d acquired when she was pregnant with Olive, but it wasn’t with shame. Her and Harry had a talk not that long ago about how much he loved them because it reminded him of how much he cherished watching his baby girl grow before she made her grand, earthside appearance. She’d not mentioned the slightest bit of disdain for them after that.

Just as Harry tugged his jumper over his head and threw it off somewhere that he’d worry about in the morning, his eyes caught the digital clock that rested on the wooden night stand on his side of the bed.

“’S past midnight,” he said with a lopsided grin, climbing on top of the girl he vowed to spend his last dying breath beside.

“Yeah?” Y/N asked, for the life of her unable to understand why that was relevant when just minutes ago, he was rutting into her hands and aching for release.

“Yeah,” Harry smiled against her lips.

He pulled up once more to add, “Happy Christmas.”

She had half the mind to smack him, but all she did was shake her head and smile.

“Happy Christmas, Harry. Will you please fuck me now?”

“Think I can manage that.”

It was the first of many Christmas presents for Y/N.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #dad!harry #dad!Harry styles #dad!harry styles x reader #dad!harry x reader #harry styles smut

441 notes · View notes

khaleesiofalicante · 3 years

Text

MALEC WEEK - POWER COUPLE

Alec ran, no – sprinted – through the narrow alley.

Please be okay, he prayed to himself. Please be okay.

He slashed every demon in sight, arrows flying of their volition. Alec has fought before – but never like this.

He had never fought with no regard for the consequences. He had no fear and was absolutely terrified at the same time.

His feet came to a sudden halt. Jace was standing in the alley.

“What am I afraid of?” Alec demanded.

“What?” the blonde man blinked.

“What am I afraid of?” Alec asked again, this time his voice steady.

Jace’s eyes frowned in concentration and then he looked at Alec. “Losing Magnus. You’re always worried about-”

Alec drove his seraph blade through the other man’s black t-shirt and liquid poured out like a disgusting ichor fountain.

“Sure,” Alec told the shapeshifter. “But Jace would have gone with spiders first.”

He continued to run down the path – destroying three more shapeshifters. Izzy. Maia.

One dumb demon had even taken the shape of his father who was long dead. Demons didn’t care much for research he supposed.

Shapeshifters never really appeared in hoards. But someone had messed up. Some warlock had dabbled with powers he couldn’t comprehend. Silas.

And now New York was overrun with shapeshifting demons.

They had to destroy every single one or the consequences would be severe. Jace had split them up into teams to take care of the problem.

Alec had been gearing up to assist Clary when he had gotten the message.

Please be okay, he prayed again as he ran faster. Please be okay.

He took care of another one – Julian – when he ran into a face was that familiar than most.

This face he knew.

This face he would never forget.

This face he could find among a hundred demons.

Alec wanted to leap forward and embrace the man. But Magnus was more cautious.

“What’s our wifi password?”

“Magnus, it’s me-”

“What’s our wifi password?” Magnus snapped.

“We don’t have one,” Alec rolled his eyes. “We steal the neighbor’s because he once called your fedora tacky.”

Magnus leaped now and put his arms around Alec.

“The kids,” he breathed into his neck.

“We’ll find them,” Alec promised, pulling back. “We’re gonna find them.”

“I tracked them here,” Magnus showed Rafael’s tiny shoe.

“Me too,” Alec showed Max’s little truck.

“So, they must be her-”

They heard someone running towards them and turned around immediately. Alec’s bow ready and Magnus’s hands glowing.

“Jeez, it’s me!” Izzy put up her hands.

“Prove it,” Magnus said. They are not going to take chances today.

“Alec, your brown sweater didn’t get lost in the laundry,” Izzy rolled her eyes. “Magnus portalled it to a dumpster. Or hell. Either way, good riddance.”

“You did what?” Alec whirled on Magnus.

“Not the time!” Magnus hissed at them and then glared at Isabelle. “You could have just said the name of his childhood crush.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you want to know about that,” Isabelle giggled.”

“Wait. What do you mean?” Magnus asked. “Who is-”

“Not the time!” Alec hissed. “Izzy, go east. Magnus and I will follow the tracker.”

Izzy gave a single nod and vanished.

Before Magnus could discover about Alec’s childhood crush and probably have an aneurism, a sound pierced through the air.

A sound of laughter. An annoying, annoying laughter. Max had the most awful taste in dolls. But he was good at naming them though.

“Miss Ducklington!” they both said and ran towards the sound.

They reached the end of the alley when they saw them. An audible breath of relief left Magnus and Alec literally felt his stomach unclench.

Max and Rafe were on the floor sitting next to each other. There were surrounded by a bunch of demons. But they didn’t seem to be afraid.

Max was curiously looking at each one talking to them about his toys. Rafe had a protective arm around his brother, but otherwise looked bored.

They know. They know their daddy and bapa would come for them.

“I’m going to burn him to the ground,” Magnus muttered under his breath.

Alec held him back. “No.”

“I know he is a warlock,” Magnus said in frustration. “But he hurt innocent people. He hurt kids. He tried to hurt our chil-”

“We need him alive,” Alec explained patiently. “We need to question why he raised the shapeshifters. We must find out if there is someone behind this.”

Magnus gave him a begrudging nod. “But secure the kids first.”

Alec gave a firm nod. There was no doubt about that.

“Silas!” Magnus yelled.

The kids both stood up at the sound and the dozen demons hissed. Max blew a raspberry at one of them.

“Let the kids go,” Alec commanded.

“No,” the warlock shook his head, his scaled skin glistening in darkness. “I want the elder scrolls first.”

“What is it with our people and ancient books!” Magnus put his hands up in the air. “Just google stuff like everyone else.”

“I know you have it, Magnus,” Silas hissed. “Give me the sacred texts. I need it.”

“For what?” Alec asked carefully.

“None of your business,” the warlock snapped.

“Alright,” Magnus said. “Give us the kids and I’ll think about it.”

“You give me the scrolls fir-”

“This isn’t a negotiation,” Magnus voice cut through, sharper than any blade the iron sisters could make. “Give me my children.”

The shapeshifters moved closer in a circle, surrounding the kids.

Max’s blue eyes turned wider, but they seemed more curious than scared. Rafe’s hand still gripped his brother – his hand firm and sure.

They know. They know we will protect them.

Alec stepped forward.

“You won’t hurt me, shadowhunter,” the warlock laughed. “You need me for your interrogation.”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass before taking you into custody,” Alec pointed out. “Let the kids go, Silas.”

“I don’t think so,” the warlock grinned.

Alec looked at Magnus. He felt it before he saw it.

He could feel Magnus’ magic around him – everywhere. It was desperate to break free.

“I won’t ask again,” Alec said.

Silas moved closer towards Rafael and Alec nodded.

It felt like being crashed by a wave.

Even for Alec, who had only ever found Magnus’ magic to be warm and welcoming.

Silas was on the floor, squirming and panting. The shapeshifters screeched in pain. Some even got obliterated on spot.

Not for the first time, Alec was thankful for never getting on Magnus’ bad side.

He bolted towards the kids. Magnus’ magic was surrounding them like a hurricane, a blue hurricane of fire and water and wind. He grabbed one in each arm. Max only yelled ‘wheeeee’ in glee.

“Magnus!” he yelled.

His warlock opened a portal with one arm and Alec moved closer.

“Jace!” he yelled this time.

A blonde man stared at him through the portal.

“It’s me!” he said, but Alec knew already. It was his Jace. “You think Magnus’ bread pudding is disgusting.”

“I heard that!” Magnus yelled amidst all the chaos.

“Grab the kids!” Alec yelled.

“Do you need backup?” Jace asked, as the kids ran towards him.

But the portal already closed.

“How,” the Silas choked on Magnus’ magic. “How did you-”

“Never underestimate my husband,” Alec pointed out proudly.

“Or mine!” Magnus chimed in, taking control over his magic.

On cue, Alec left four arrows fly killing off three different shapeshifters.

There were only a couple standing. And Silas of course.

“Just come with us,” Alec sighed.

“Yes, we have a dinner reservation at seven, you selfish jerk!” Magnus called, taking care of another shapeshifter.

“Never,” the warlock tried to get on his feet but was pushed to the floor by Magnus’ magic again. “I will never comply. I will never surrender. Not to you, shadowhunter.”

“How about me?” Magnus batted his eyes.

“Nephilim bootlicker,” the warlock spat. “I hope you die before him. I hope whatever demon gave you life will be the one to take it away. Or I will do it myse-”

Alec fingers curled around the man’s red hair and pulled him up. Silas left out a sharp hiss of pain.

It hurt.

Good.

“Threaten my husband again and I will rip off your arm,” Alec whispered a promise. “And beat you to death with it.”

“Darling, you are ruining my appetite,” Magnus chided. “Besides, my father has much more impo-”

Magnus groaned and his magic slipped.

He is draining, the thought occurred to Alec. His magic is draining.

Warlocks, many Nephilim didn’t realize or bothered to learn, did not have an infinite source of power. They had to rest. Rehabilitate. Renew.

And Magnus had used a gigantic amount of power tonight.

The tracking. The portals. The fighting.

And whatever crazy magic blizzard storm thing he had unleased earlier. He probably didn’t have to go this hard. But he had anyway.

But it wasn’t just a show of magic. It was a message.

The entire alley was surrounded in demon ichor and filth.

It was a message to anyone who tried to hurt his family.

There was one shapeshifter still left standing – right in front of Magnus, who was kneeling on the floor.

Silas laughed. It was an ugly, ugly sound.

“You’re all out of tricks, Bane,” he crowed and then said something in a demonic language to the shapeshifter. “Kill him!”

Alec could have pulled out his bow and shot the demon – and Silas. Two for one.

But he didn’t.

This was a show of power.

This was a message.

Alec threw a seraph blade towards the demon and Magnus, who was kneeling gripped the hilt without looking.

“You can’t use a seraph blade,” the warlock sneered. “You’re just a warlock.”

“I’m not just anything,” Magnus stood up and the seraph blade light up in red, the color of blood.

The color of hell.

“I’m a Lightwood-Bane,” Magnus grinned and drove the seraph blade through the last shape shifter.

The warlock’s mouth opened in awe – and fear. And then disgust.

“You abomination!” he yelled. “You are a disgrace to all warl-”

Alec kneed him right in the face and Silas passed out. “He talks too much.”

“A side effect of immortality,” Magnus shrugged.

Alec looked around them.

It was a disaster alright. But it was worth it.

Because the message was clear.

You don’t mess with the Lightwood-Banes.

#I do like a good fight scene kjdhsfjlsd #malec week #malec #dont mess with the lightwood banes #dani writes stuff

130 notes · View notes

whatsortofschoolisthis · 2 years

Text

IDENTITY

Full Name: Kitto Alan Teague.

Nicknames: Kit.

Name Meanings: Kitto — Cornish, ”Bearer of Christ”, Alan— Old German/Gaelic, “Precious” , Teague — Cornish/Gaelic, “Poet, Philosopher”.

Date of Birth: January 1st, 1973

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Asexual.

Blood Status: Pureblood.

Ethnicity/Race: White/Caucasian.

Nationality: English

MBTI Type: ENFJ-T- The Protagonist.

Residence: St. Ives, Cornwall. Lived on the Isle of Man during the war.

MAGIC

Wand:

Wood: Blackthorn.

Core: Dragon Heartstring Core

Length: 11 inches

Flexibility: swishy.

Other Magical Abilities: Parseltongue

Patronus: A bat

Patronus Memory: Rubin taking him on a picnic after adopting him.

Boggart: Bellatrix Lestrange. He met her once as a child and still has nightmares.

Riddikulus: Bellatrix turns into a clown puppet.

Amortentia:

Kit smells oranges, fir trees, and cinnamon

Kit smells like Fresh fallen snow, pancakes, and the seaside.

Mirror of Erised: His mother’s gravestone.

HOGWARTS

House: Gryffindor.

OWL Classes:

Transfiguration - O

Charms - E

Herbology - A

Astronomy - O

Potions - E

History of Magic - P

Defense Against the Dark Arts - O

Flying - A

OWL Electives:

Divination- A

Care of Magical Creatures- E

NEWT Classes:

Charms- O

Potions- O

Astronomy- E

Quidditch: No

Prefect: Yes

Clubs: Hippogriff Club and Hogwarts Orchestra (Harpsichord)

Favorite Professors: Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape.

Least Favorite Professors: Professor Trelawney and Professor Binns.

CAREER

11 to 17 - Hogwarts student. Worked at Madam Puddlefoots Teashop as a waiter.

18 to 24- Worked as a freelance Cursebreaker after a two year stint at Gringotts.

24 to 28- Lived on the Isle of Man and worked on a ‘fishing boat’.

28 to 60- Continued work as a Cursebreaker until retirement.

60 to 129- Writer. Wrote a few books on his cursebreaking experiences and also a series of children’s book about magical creatures (Beatrix Potter meets Guardians of Ga’Hoole.)

APPEARANCE

Faceclaim: Tyler Posey.

Height: 5 ft 7.

Weight & Physique: 130 pounds, slender build.

Hair Color: Dyed blue by Colorvira natural hair color is black.

Hair Style: Short, standard cut

Eye Color: Hazel

Skin Tone: Fair

Scars: A few scars from a cursed quill on his arms and one on his elbow from falling out of a tree.

Modifications: (piercings, tattoos, glasses, etc.) Nose piercing.

Distinguishing Marks: None.

Clothing Style: He wears his school uniform minus the robe, he really hates the robe. Due to Andre’s insistence, he wears something different every other day. Usually its button down shirts, jeans, and sneakers.

Accessories: (watch, jewelry, etc.): None.

What’s In His Pockets: His wand, creature treats, and rocks that the first years give him.

What’s In His School Bag:

Textbooks

Parchment and quills

Sheet music for the Orchestra.

Hippogriff club meeting minutes notebook that Bryn made for him.

His garter snake Arthur.

Runestones that Rubin gave him.

Random gifts from the younger kids at Hogwarts (usually cool leaves or small drawings)

A small book of words (for essays, he tends to repeat words a lot).

VOICE & LANGUAGE

Voiceclaim: Bradley James

Accent: (might differ from voiceclaim’s) Cornish.

Dialect: Cornu-English

Languages Spoken: English, Cornish, Faroese.

Languages Understood: English, Cornish, Irish Gaelic, and Faroese.

Speech and/or Language Disorder: None

FAMILY

Father: Levi Evan Teague

Born on November 1st 1928 to Herpo and Morgana Teague and raised in his childhood home (nicknamed Nightwood Hall) in St. Ives.

His mother died of Dragonpox when he was four and was left with his father and older sister Diana, who was 15 at the time.

Levi was the only surviving child besides his sister due to genetic disorders from inbreeding. He would have had two older brothers and three younger sisters.

His childhood was cold, dark, and utterly forbidding.

Levi was sorted into Slytherin where he met Circe Prewett. He played Beater on the Slytherin Qudditch team and was infamous for sending beaters into the crowded stands.

His sister Diana went missing in 1941 while in London and turned up dead after being caught in the blitz. Levi was upset by the death, as they were close. Levi also blamed his father as he was the one that sent her to London and their relationship was strained after that.

After graduation and his marriage to Circe, he helped his ailing father manage his estate and inherited after he died.

He and Circe had Dmitri and Demeter in 1960 after many miscarriages and Kit in 1972.

They joined Voldemort in 1970 and Levi was killed in the summer of 1978 after breaking into Rubin’s home. She beat him to death with a poker.

Faceclaim: Charlton Heston.

Mother: Circe Alise Teague (Nee Prewett).

Born on April 3rd, 1928 in Nottingham, England to Frank and Sally Prewett.

She displayed some very concerning behaviors in childhood, such as setting fires and tormenting animals/creatures. Even when Circe was an adult, little Molly Weasley (Then Molly Prewett) was warned to never go anywhere alone with her or her husband.

Circe was sorted into Ravenclaw and met Levi Teague. She was an admirer of Tom Riddle and would bully younger students, especially muggleborns.

Circe was not a good mother and was prone to using curses as discipline along with her husband. She was the one who put Dmitri under the Imperius Curse after he attempted to run away.

She and Levi joined Tom in 1970 and participated in many crimes against muggles and muggleborns. Dmitri was sometimes made to join them but this was largely discouraged as he was very young.

Circe was captured while at home in 1978 and sent to Azkaban.

Faceclaim: Kirsten Dunst

Older Brother: Dmitri Alexander Teague

Born on Febuary 3rd, 1960, five minutes younger than his sister Demeter.

Currently hospitalized by St. Mungo’s due to trauma and the lingering effects of the Imperious Curse. Lives in a residential home owned by the hospital with his twin sister Demeter.

He’s a very gentle person and is usually a little confused even on good days.

Was tutored at home due to his runaway attempts at the age of ten.

Kit visits him often and he’s very protective of his older brother. Dmitri likes seeing him.

Faceclaim: Young Jude Law.

Sister: Demeter Nessa Teague

Five minutes older than Dmitri.

Demeter is highly intelligent, comes off as strange, and is possibly a psychopath, she has no official diagnoses. She is aware of it to an extent and checks with others (nurses, family, etc.) to be sure she is acting correctly or understanding emotions the right way.

Her parents had her committed to St. Mungo’s after she tried to burn down the family home (because they were hurting Kit) and was testing spells on herself. Was sorted into Ravenclaw before this.

Writes books on dark charms and spells, considered an expert in the subject. She’s not allowed a quill (no one is at the homes) but has a typewriter.

Demeter lives with her brother in a residential home owned by the hospital

She’s glad Circe is in jail and that Levi is dead.

Kit loves her very much and enjoys talking with her. Demeter is very fond of her littlest brother and uses him as her moral compass.

Faceclaim: Dita Von Teese.

Guardian: Rubin Agda Orn

Adopted Kit in 1979 but was not allowed to change his surname due to Barty Crouch’s concerns about Kit being a bad seed. Rubin also has legal custody of Dmitri and Demeter.

She encouraged Kit to learn Cornish and to speak Parseltongue as she sees language as being a key part of people’s identity’s.

Rubin loves Kit very much and Kit sees her as his mom.

Aunts/Uncles: Bryn, Sean, and Hecate Ames. Also Evangeline.

He’s very close with everyone but especially Sean and Hecate.

Kit sees Bryn as being an older brother.

Being around Evangeline is very awkward at first but he gets used to her the fastest out of everyone in the family (besides Rubin, who expects Henry to leave litters of children around).

Pets: Arthur the garter snake and Snufkin the cat.

FRIENDSHIPS

Best Friends:

Charlie Weasley.

Ben Copper.

Penny Haywood.

Chiara Lobasca.

Andre Egwu.

Close Friends:

Murphy McNully.

Bill Weasley.

Liz Tuttle.

Badeea Ali.

Barnaby Lee.

Friends:

Jae Kim.

Skye Parkin.

Levi Kidd.

Acquaintances:

Tonks.

Corey Hayden.

Ismelda Murk.

Orion Amari.

Victor Katsuki.

It’s Complicated:

Talbott Winger.

Dormmates:

Ben Copper.

Charlie Weasley.

Jae Kim.

Unnamed Gryffindor.

Rivals: Tulip Karasu.

Enemies: R, Death Eaters, Rakepick, Merula Snyde.

ROMANCE & CHILDREN

Love Interest: Aurelie Dumont

Kit meets her in his second year after she comes to visit Penny from Beauxbatons. They quickly became friends and started writing to each other.

They’re very comfortable around each other and talk about the strangest things.

Aurelie comes to visit Penny every Spring Holiday and then every summer. She always spent a few days with Kit and “his charming mother.”

Rubin has no idea what to make of this at all but if Kit is happy, she’s happy.

Kit is asexual and dumb and Aurelie is demisexual and dumb, so it took them four years to decide to get together as a couple (at the end of Kit’s 6th year) and then several more years to decide to get married (June 30th 1999).

They adopt twins (a boy and a girl) and have a set of twins.

Future Son: Gavin John Teague-Dumont

Born September 8th, 2000 at 8:50 am Ten minutes older than Geraldine.

Was given up for adoption alongside his sister by his mother, a muggleborn. Nothing else is known about her

He’s a very active boy who enjoys playing as Gryffindor’s chaser and wrestling his cousins. Wants to play for the Appleby Arrows someday.

Aspen wand, 10 and a half inches, with a unicorn hair core and bendy.

Future Daughter: Geraldine Louisa Teague-Dumont

Born on September 8th at 9:00am and ten minutes younger than her brother.

Very dramatic and part of the Theater club at Hogwarts. She wants to be a stage actress. Takes after her adoptive mother that way. Geraldine is in Gryffindor with Gavin.

Blackthorn wand, 10 inches, unicorn hair core, and inflexible.

Future Son: Sebastian Xavier Teague-Dumont.

Born on May 11th 2002 at 6:00am. 18 minutes older than Stephen.

Sebastian is very quiet and observant, he is very much like Rubin in a way. Considered a pleasant person and a Hufflepuff prefect. Would like to be an Unspeakable or a Cursebreaker like his dad.

Rowan wand, 13 inches, phoenix feather core, and very flexible.

Future Son: Stephen Isaac Teague-Dumont.

Born on May 11th 2002 at 6:18am.

Highly intelligent and an admirer of his Aunt Demeter and Uncle Sean. In Slytherin and wants to be an Alchemist someday, founding member of Hogwarts alchemy club. A lot like his mom.

Laurel wand, 11 inches, dragon heartstring core, and slightly flexible.

PERSONALITY

Traits:

Positive: Brave, laid back, kind, good

Neutral: Outspoken, sincere, thoughtful, perceptive.

Negative: Stubborn, distrustful, anxious, laid back.

Favorites:

Color: Gray

Food: Shepherds Pie.

Weather: Cool sunny weather

Books: the Moomintroll books by Tove Jansson and nonfiction books about animals, “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them” being a particular favorite of his.

Hobbies: Reading, rock collecting, playing the harpsichord, hiking, and stargazing.

Music: He enjoys a little of everything. No particular favorites.

Dislikes: Blood supremacy, the dark, streelers, chocolate frogs, and Quintipads.

Description: Kit tries to give off a very calm, laid back, vibe and is known as a very kind person. He doesn’t back down if he thinks something is wrong, to the point where it can be a bit dangerous. He tends to be nervous, he still does what needs doing, but it doesn’t make him any less anxious.

MBTI Description: “Protagonists tend to be vocal about their values, including authenticity and altruism. When something strikes them as unjust or wrong, they speak up. But they rarely come across as brash or pushy, as their sensitivity and insight guide them to speak in ways that resonate with others.”

HISTORY & BACKGROUND

Pre-Hogwarts Childhood:

Kit’s early childhood was terrifying and he often would go to his older sister Demeter for comfort rather than his own mother, who wasn’t very nurturing and was often cruel to him. His father largely ignored him.

Demeter was committed in 1976 after setting the house on fire while her mother was ‘punishing’ Kit for an imagined slight. This was the last straw in a long line of dangerous behaviors.

Additionally, Demeter’s parents feared for their lives after she threatened to seal them in their room with a sticking charm “The Next Time.”

Death Eaters were in and out of the house and Kit was afraid of most of them but especially Bellatrix. He didn’t mind Snape as much, he brought him licorice wands and a blue and white toy cat.

His mother was arrested for the use of an Unforgivable on a child, Murder, and other offenses in 1978 after Dmitri was captured and released from the Imperius Curse. Rubin took Kit in after she found him hiding under his bed with his stuffed cat Marbles.

Levi evaded arrest and tried to break into Rubin’s home to reclaim Kit in November of 1978. He died violently.

Rubin officially adopted Kit in 1979 when he was 7 years old and gained custody of Demeter and Dmitri in 1981.

Hogwarts Years:

Trying to google everything would only frustrate me and waste my time, so I’m not going into detail.

Becomes a prefect in his fourth year.

Kit helps with the Vaults where he can and is usually the first to head into a dangerous situation (like Knockturn Alley for example).

Second Wizarding War:

Forced to go into hiding during the war due to his adoption by Rubin and his connection to his mother. Spent most of his time on the Isle of Man as death eater influence wasn’t as strong there.

He worked on a ‘fishing boat’ owned by a half blood wizard named Jonah Scott and crewed by other witches and wizards. The boat was a cover and they smuggled many muggleborns, werewolves, vampires, and squibs out of the country.

Adulthood:

Kit went back to work as a Cursebreaker after the Battle of Hogwarts and continued dating Aurelie.

They got married in 1999 in a large wedding with all their friends and family.

Kit continues cursebreaking and starts taking Sebastian with him during the summers when his son reaches his mid teens. Sebastian starts working with him full time after graduation.

Gains custody of Dmitri and Demeter after Rubin’s death in 2026 at 81 (died of heart failure). Dmitri dies at 99 years old from a brain tumor (probably caused by the Imperious Curse though this is never proven) and Demeter dies at 120. They both spend their final years living with Kit and Aurelie.

Kit retires and passes the business on to Sebastian and his grandchildren. He then writes books up until the day of his death.

Death:

Kit dies in his sleep at the age of 129. Aurelie dies two years after him. They were survived by their four children, nine grandchildren, and twenty great-grandchildren.

MISCELLANEOUS

Kit is very good with children and the younger kids like bringing him rocks and making him gifts as tokens.

He has a bunch of unopened letters from his mother Circe that Rubin saved for him. He only ever reads two and burns the rest.

Kit doesn’t care for Quidditch and instead enjoys watching muggle sports, his favorite being football (soccer).

He enjoys dark fantasy films and children’s fantasy films like The Black Cauldron and the Dark Crystal.

Keeps his toy cat Marbles in his dorm and treasures him. It’s the only reason Kit doesn’t completely hate Snape.

Template made by @unfortunate-arrow

#hphm #harry potter hogwarts game #Harry Potter Hogwarts mystery #hphm oc #kit teague

3 notes · View notes

20cop · 5 years

Text

1940s, Part 1

Sorry about all the unfinished sections in this post! I never got around to writing them :(

October, 1940

The Bronx, New York

By the time Brook was twelve, Sam had found a job at last. He worked as a store janitor nearly all day, six days a week. It didn’t pay much, but it helped with the bills and food. Crocus, meanwhile, had kept steady work as a hospital nurse from early morning to early afternoon every day for many years.

The sun was sinking on the horizon, dying the eastern sky out the window dull orange. Brook was next to Crocus on the couch, kneeling on the cushion and propping his head up on his elbows as he stared outside. The color of the sky reminded him of Over the Rainbow. He’d always thought it was funny—despite its name, the song was a mix of pale greens and oranges, not rainbow at all.

“Mr. Crocus?”

Crocus looked up from his embroidery. “Hm?”

“Why do you think they called Over the Rainbow what they did?”

“Well,” Crocus muttered, looking back to his work, “I s’ppose . . . some tales say rainbows’re magical, that they lead to anoth’r world. Th’ girl wants t’ get away from her life, n’ she thinks there might be a bett’r place b’yond th’ rainbow.”

Brook nodded, pretending to understand, and turned around to sit properly on the couch.

Crocus glanced down at Brook’s hands, which were yet again drumming across his knees. “Speakin’ o’ songs . . . y’ever think ’bout bein’ a musician?”

“A musician?”

Crocus nodded. “Those fingers o’ yours’re always tappin’, an’ you’re always hummin’ that song . . . you ever touch a piano?”

Brook shook his head.

Crocus grinned. “Maybe we should get y’on a piano one day, see if y’r hands aren’ too small. Come t’ think of it . . .” He stood and stumped over to the bedroom, returning a moment later with an old case.

“Try this on f’r size,” he said, lifting out a beautiful old violin. “Can’ speak f’r th’ sound. Nev’r learned how t’ play.”

“Wow,” Brook said in awe. Imitating the pictures he’d seen, he placed the violin under his chin and on his shoulder and put the bow on the strings.

A second later, he and Crocus were wincing.

“Well . . . firs’ time’s never good,” Crocus muttered. “Go on, give it anoth’r try.”

Brook slowly put the bow back on the strings, more hesitant this time. He drew it across and managed to produce something like a note.

“Oh,” he exclaimed, smiling.

He began testing out the different strings, playing slow, colored notes one after the other. Crocus picked up his embroidery again.

By the time he finished his stitching (“Home Sweet Home”), Brook was playing an all-too-familiar song. The old violin could use some tuning, but the violinist was something of a prodigy.

“Binks’ Brew, huh . . . ?” Crocus murmured. “Brings back mem’ries.”

Sam came home around dinnertime to find Brook still playing with the violin.

“Pop, look!” Brook exclaimed, holding up the violin. “Mr. Crocus let me use this, and I can play songs now!”

“Really,” Sam said, smiling. “Good golly, you sure do take after your mother. She was always whistling and singing.”

“Pop—listen! I can play Binks’ Brew!”

April 3, 1941

The Bronx, New York

Despite that Sam had work, it had been a pleasant day for Brook. Crocus had surprised him with a small coconut cake, and though he found the texture odd, he enjoyed the taste immensely. Crocus had sung him an off-key happy birthday, the normally smooth mauve song turning pale and jagged, before retiring to his sewing to let Brook practice his violin.

Sam returned home with a weary face but all smiles as he greeted Brook, sharing knowing looks with Crocus over his head.

“Say, Brook,” Sam said, sitting next to him on the couch, “you like music, don’t you?”

“O’course!” Brook exclaimed. Crocus turned down the radio expectantly.

“I was thinking—” Sam glanced to Crocus. “Well, Crocus and I were thinking—we could go to the pictures today, seeing as we have a little bit saved up, and it’s your birthday and all. There’s a film out from Walt Disney called Fantasia, and according to the reviews, it’s essentially an animated musical.”

Brook’s eyes shone. He had only seen pictures of Snow White and Pinocchio. “Really? Could we go, please?”

“We’ll have t’leave now,” Crocus announced, standing. “Gotta take th’taxi to the theater.”

“Today?” Brook asked, looking between the two.

“Yes, come on now,” Sam said, standing. “We’ll have a late supper.”

Brook grinned and jumped to his feet, not much taller than he was sitting.

[Unfinished section]

November 30, 1941

A certain part of Oahu, Hawaii

“Why can’t I come and work with you, Tom?!” Franky demanded.

Iceburg—a Hawaiian boy a bit taller than Franky with shoulder-length dark hair and dark lips—stuck out his tongue. “Well, Dumb-anky! You’re only nine!”

“You’re only a year older than me, Stupid-burg!”

“Boys, boys, settle down,” Kokoro said, laughing as she brought sandwiches to the table. She was a kind middle-aged woman, her dyed blond hair tied back into pigtails, showing her sandy face.

Tom let out a booming laugh. “Franky, you’ll stay and work right here until you’re thirteen! Then you can come and work with me!”

Franky scowled. “I’m old enough!”

“Certainly not!” Tom exclaimed. “Kid, it’ll be a miracle if the Navy even lets you work on one of those ships at thirteen! We’re banking on a streak of hope!”

Franky slumped in his seat and angrily bit into his sandwich.

Kokoro grinned. “Chew slowly or you’ll get a stomachache!”

. . .

“Well . . . I get to work there before you,” Iceburg mumbled.

This set off a fist-fight, eventually broken up by Tom holding the boys at arm’s length, laughing uproariously all the while.

December 7, 1941

Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

Franky rose before the crack of dawn. Making sure Iceburg was asleep, he crept out of the room. He threw on his aloha shirt, ran his fingers through his hair, and snuck out through the front door.

“Too young to work with the Navy?” he grumbled to himself as he strode down the front path in sandals. “I bet they’ll be happy to have me. That’ll show ’em . . . Stupid-burg and Tom and Kokoro . . .”

By the time he reached the harbor, the sun was peeking over the horizon, casting buttery light over the land. Franky looked around until he spotted the ship Tom always worked maintenance for—the USS California.

He quickly boarded the ship, sneaking in the ramp among the men carrying boxes to and fro.

“Hey, mister!” he said to a passing sailor. “Can you tell me where Tom does his work?”

“Tom?” the sailor said, staring at Franky. He rubbed his chin. “Maintenance? Big Black fella?”

“That’s him,” Franky said. “I, um—he told me to come in and work instead of him today.”

The sailor knelt so he was at Franky’s level. “And what’s your name, son?”

“Franky!”

The sailor smirked. “Tom didn’t tell us about any Franky coming in.”

Franky looked off to the side. “It was an emergency.”

“Let me guess, he didn’t have any time to tell you where he usually works on the ship?”

Franky gritted his teeth.

“And it was such an emergency that he decided to send you in near two hours before his shift starts?”

“Okay!” Franky burst out. “I came here by myself!” He looked up desperately. “Come on, mister! Tom never lets me come here! I wanna help!”

The sailor sighed. “Gee . . . son, look, the Navy doesn’t take anyone under eighteen. You can stay in the cabin until Tom comes.”

Franky folded his arms and scowled.

“You’re already here,” the sailor pointed out, straightening up. “Might as well stay here for a wink.”

Franky sat against the wall of the cabin, sticking out his tongue at the sailors who shot him odd or amused looks.

“Stupid Navy,” he grumbled to himself. “Stupid-burg, stupid Tom . . . I am so old enough . . .”

A roaring in the distance got his attention. He looked around.

“Oh,” he mumbled. “Probably the air unit practicing . . .”

The roaring grew louder. Franky frowned.

BOOM

A sudden explosion from outside rocked the boat. Shouts filled the ship and Franky stood, only to fall back down again with the shaking.

BOOM

More shouts. Franky ran awkwardly out of the cabin and onto the deck.

BOOM

He was met with hell. One of the larger battleships was on fire. The ships surrounding it were rocking something fierce as shouts and smoke filled the air. The roar of engines sounded above, and Franky, clutching the railing for support, looked up to see several airplanes flying overhead. He made out some kind of large red dot on each of them.

“What’s happening?!” he yelled as sailors ran past him, shouting things he could not make out.

“Kid, what are you doing here?!” demanded one with a milk-white face, stopping briefly. “We’re under attack! The damn—”

A banshee-like wailing filled the air, drowning the shouts of sailors and civilians alike.

AIR RAID ON PEARL HARBOR—THIS IS NOT A DRILL

The loudest explosion yet sent staggering pain through Franky’s body, obscuring his vision in a burning, blinding flash of white.

AIR RAID ON PEARL HARBOR—THIS IS NOT A DRILL

“KOKORO! ICEBURG! FRANKY!”

Tom’s voice roared through the cottage. Iceburg and Kokoro came running down the stairs, their faces pale with fright.

“What’s happening?” Iceburg cried, his young face filled with fear. “Who’s attacking?”

“Must be the J***,” Tom yelled, looking around. “There’s no way Hitler would come all the way out here—where the hell is that kid?!”

“Well—Franky wasn’t in our room,” Iceburg yelled, his eyes wide. “I thought he was out here!”

“Don’t tell me he’s outside!” Tom exclaimed, throwing a look out the window. “What the hell does he think he’s doing?!”

He marched outside and looked around desperately. The explosions at the harbor filled the air with smoke and fire while airplane engines roared above.

Tom swore loudly. He turned heel and headed back inside.

“We’d best stay in here,” he said, his voice shaking. “It’s hell out there . . . nothing we can do.”

“Franky wasn’t out there?” Kokoro demanded, her face drained of color.

Tom shook his head. “That damned kid! Where is he at a time like this?!”

Another explosion rocked the cottage. Iceburg ran to the front and then hurried back.

“His sandals are missing!” he yelled.

Tom’s face turned ashen. “He didn’t,” he exclaimed. “Don’t tell me he went to the harbor!”

Iceburg turned on his heel and ran for the front.

“Where do you think you’re going?!” Kokoro yelled, seizing his arm before he could leave the room.

“Well, I’m gonna look for Franky!” Iceburg snapped, tugging at her grip. “Let go!”

“Don’t be stupid!” Tom roared. “What the hell d’you intend to do if Franky’s at the harbor?!”

Iceburg bit his lip. “Well, I—!”

“If he’s there, it might be too late!” Tom yelled. “At any rate, it’s too dangerous out there! You wanna get yourself killed, you dimwit?! We gotta wait until it’s all over!”

“I can’t just sit here!” Iceburg yelled, tears forming in his eyes.

“Iceburg, please,” Kokoro exclaimed, “stay here! Tom’s right, there’s no sense in going out there until it’s safe!”

Iceburg began to sob. “But—what if Franky’s—?”

“Then there’s nothing we can do!” Tom yelled, his face still ashen with fear and worry.

December 8, 1941

The Bronx, New York

Crocus, Sam, and Brook sat around the radio as the disembodied voice of the President delivered a solemn message. It hadn’t been long since Sam had been laid off from his job.

“Yesterday, December 7, 1941—a date which will live in infamy—the United States—was sudd—berately attacked by naval and air forces—Japan.

“The United States was at peace with that nation—still in conversation with its government and its Emperor looking toward the—the Pacific.”

Crocus leaned over and adjusted the dials on the old radio, giving it a whack for good measure. The voice came back static-free.

“—panese Ambassador to the United States and his colleague delivered to our Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American message. And, while this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or of armed attack.

“It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time the Japanese Government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace. . . .”

December 21, 1941

Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

Franky groggily opened his eyes and was hit with a wave of pain in his skull.

“Nn,” he groaned. His vision was fuzzy and he struggled to focus. Everything seemed white all around. As details came into fuzzy focus, he gradually became aware that he was lying on some kind of bed, his right arm was heavy, and there was something in his left arm. Something felt odd about his face, but in his sleepy state, he couldn’t figure out what it was.

Someone dressed in white passed by his bed and stopped. “Hello,” he said, approaching the bed. “I see you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Wh . . .” Franky mumbled. He blinked hard and the doctor came into vague focus.

“How are you feeling?” the doctor repeated.

“Not . . . super,” Franky mumbled.

The doctor wrote something down. He tested Franky’s vision with his finger moving back and forth and shone a light into his eyes, making him squint in irritation.

“Can you feel this?”

Franky lifted his head slightly as he sensed pressure in his left leg. “Feel . . . ? Somethin’ on my leg?”

The doctor did something else. “Does that hurt?”

“Huh . . . ? No,” Franky mumbled.

The pressure lifted and the doctor wrote something else down. “We’ll run some tests later,” he said, standing. “Your family will be notified.”

Franky barely heard this last part as he sank back into the pillow and fell asleep.

When he next awoke, he was more alert, and the fuzziness in his vision cleared away much faster. He blinked hard and looked around to see Iceburg, Tom, and Kokoro sitting around his bed.

“Yo,” he said hoarsely.

“Franky,” Iceburg said, putting a hand on Franky’s shoulder. “Well . . . thank goodness you’re okay . . .”

“I’m invincible,” Franky said in a show of bravado. “’Lo, Tom . . . Kokoro.”

“You damn kid,” Tom muttered, looking down. Kokoro was smiling with relief, eyes bright with tears. “You damn kid. Why did you go to the harbor?”

Franky blinked slowly. “Why did I . . . ?”

“The harbor,” Tom said. “D’you remember?”

Franky bit his lip. “I . . . oh,” he murmured, staring up at the ceiling. “Geez . . . Tom, I’m sorry . . . I just wanted to help . . .”

“What’s done is done,” Tom muttered. He looked up and gave Franky a big grin. “Glad to see you’re okay.”

Franky offered him and the others a weak smile.

“It was the Japanese,” Tom continued. “No warning, nothing . . . they just attacked us outta the blue. As soon as you’re fit to be up and walking around, we’re going to move.”

“Move . . . ?”

“The ships I worked on are gone,” Tom explained, his voice shaking. “It’s dangerous here. Not that I don’t have faith in our boys, o’ course, but there’s always the chance of another attack. We’re moving.”

Franky stared at him. “Where . . . ?”

“New York,” Tom said. He gently placed a massive hand on Franky’s shoulder. “You rest up and get better, and we’ll see that spunk back in the Super Franky in no time.”

Franky smiled. “Yeah.”

Tom and Kokoro rose and left. Iceburg watched them go, and then turned to Franky and said, “Well, you were real lucky, Dumb-anky. Most of the men didn’t make it.”

“. . . Oh,” was all Franky could say. He stared up at the ceiling, thinking of the sailor who had let him stay on the ship, the men who had glanced at him while he waited in the cabin . . . the sailor with the white face who had tried to tell him what was happening, the screams of countless others in the midst of the explosions . . . he would no longer be able to think of them without wondering if they were among the casualties.

“Oh,” he said again.

Iceburg sighed. “Well, you don’t have any sense . . .” He trailed off and smiled faintly. “Don’t have any ‘scents,’ get it?”

Franky stared at him. “What’re you talkin’ ’bout?”

“Well, see—‘sense,’ like common sense, and ‘scents,’ like smelling.” Iceburg looked at him expectantly.

Franky frowned. “I don’t get it.”

Iceburg’s smirk faded. “Haven’t you realized . . . ?”

“Realized . . . ?”

Iceburg slowly tapped his nose and pointed to Franky. Franky lifted his left arm (stuck with an I.V.) and reached for his nose, wincing, but jerked his hand back suddenly when it didn’t stop where it should have.

He slowly moved his hand back to the center of his face. This time, he continued going until he covered his face from cheek-to-cheek with his hand. He lifted his hand and traced a line down the center of his face to his odd double-cleft chin.

His finger moved along his forehead and started down the top of the bridge of his nose, but abruptly dipped and glided along flat, coarse bandages wrapped around his head.

“My . . . nose is . . . ?”

“Well . . . gone,” Iceburg said. “You were a right mess when they brought you in . . . you’re real lucky,” he repeated. “Real lucky.”

February, 1942

Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

Franky was finally released from the hospital, deemed fit to go home with support from his family. The sun shone down on them in the late afternoon sky as he took step after agonizing step on hot pavement, relying heavily on his walking stick. The bandages on his face had been removed, revealing the scarred, sunken nostril holes. The bandages covering the wounds on his back were due to be removed soon, and the fracture in his right arm had healed nicely.

“You let us know if you want help,” Tom said. He walked behind Franky while Iceburg and Kokoro walked on either side.

“I’m . . . fine,” Franky hissed, each step sending a shiver through his body.

“You didn’t forget your exercises, did you?” Kokoro said, adopting the motherly scolding tone she often used with the boys. “You won’t get better if you don’t do them.”

“I did them . . . earlier,” Franky mumbled. They were slowly approaching a hill. “I just . . . need . . . practice . . . !”

But before they could even reach the bottom of the hill, Franky’s legs gave out and he fell. Tom seized him around the middle, hoisting him away from the ground as Kokoro picked up his walking stick.

“Le’ go,” Franky protested weakly, struggling to escape from Tom’s grasp and failing miserably.

Tom adjusted his grip on Franky, bouncing him upwards and holding him like an infant. “You listen here, mister, I won’t have you pushing yourself. Get some rest and try again later.”

Franky struggled for a moment, but quickly gave up and settled in Tom’s large arms. By the time they reached the cottage, he had fallen asleep.

March, 1942

The Bronx, New York

“Crocus, Brook,” Sam said as he came into the apartment one evening after another long day. They looked up.

“Somethin’ good happen?” Crocus asked, snuffing out his cigar into the ashtray.

“Did you find a job, Pop?” Brook asked hopefully, looking up from his book. Crocus had taught him to read over the past few months, and he was enjoying it immensely. His voice was high still, but the clothes from three years ago, it seemed, were starting to shrink.

Sam’s face was bright with delight as he quickly hung up his coat and hat. “I’ve got good news.”

“Out with it, then,” Crocus said.

“I’ve signed up for the army,” Sam said.

Crocus stared at him, his eyes wide. “Sorry, must’ve misheard somethin’. Did y’ just say y’ signed up f’r th’ army?”

Sam nodded. “—But don’t you see? It’ll bring in money, see? And with our boys joinin’ up, the war will be over in just a year!”

“You’re a twit,” Crocus said abruptly. “I ain’t sayin’ we ain’t gonna win, Sam, but it’ll take more th’n a year to beat the Nazis.”

“Well,” Sam said, “then we gotta do all we can to end this as fast as possible, aye? If not a year, two years—the Great War ended just a year after our boys joined!”

“Diff’rent war, diff’rent circumstances,” Crocus argued. “But y’know they say hist’ry repeats itself—if y’ make it back . . . ever hear th’ war stories from th’ Great War? Those men didn’ come back th’ same.”

“I’ll be fine,” Sam said firmly. “It’ll bring in money—plenty to support us all until I can afford a place for Brook and me. Your job’s only on weekends, it’s hardly enough to support us all much longer, and with the rations—”

“Fine,” Crocus snapped. “Fine. Go get y’rself killed.”

The atmosphere remained chilly throughout the evening.

March, 1942

Oahu, Hawaii

“Franky?”

Iceburg and Kokoro turned back to see Tom staring at Franky , who had frozen at the foot of the boarding ramp. They’d been headed to the ship which would take them to California, along with a couple dozen other passengers in the same mindset.

“Boy? What is it?” Tom said. He headed back down. “’Scuse me, miss—hey, you two, don’t block the way, get down here—”

Iceburg and Kokoro quickly followed him. Tom knelt in front of Franky.

“What’s up?” Tom said, looking Franky over. He was leaning on his walking stick and trembling. “Can’t walk right now? I’m gonna carry you.”

“Don’ wanna,” Franky mumbled, staring at the ship with wide eyes and a taut mouth. “I—” he looked away. “’m . . . scared.”

“Well . . . oh, geez—” Iceburg said. “’Cause o’ the attacks, huh?”

Franky made a noise which might have been a confirmation. His knees suddenly buckled and his legs ceased functioning.

“Damn it all, it’s shell-shock . . . I should’ve realized,” Tom muttered. He tapped Franky’s head gently. “Listen, boy, we gotta get on that boat, you understand? Shut your eyes the whole way if you want, hold someone’s hand if you gotta, but we’re getting on that boat and we’re going to the mainland.” He held out his arms. “C’mere if you can’t walk.”

Franky looked like he might cry, but bravely held it in and reached out, latching onto Tom’s neck. His legs dangled and Tom grabbed his walking stick in one hand, holding onto Franky with the other. Franky clung to Tom as tightly as he could and kept his eyes squeezed shut as they boarded.

April, 1942

The Bronx, New York

“Behave yourself, won’t you?” Sam said gently to Brook.

“I will,” Brook whispered. He and his father shared a tender hug before Sam stood and faced Crocus.

“Well—I’ll see you,” Sam said after a moment.

Crocus grunted in response. Sam stepped forward and wrapped his best friend in a tight hug.

“Take care of Brook,” he said, his voice breaking. “If anything happens to me—”

Crocus’s face softened and he hugged Sam in return. “Y’know I will,” he said gruffly. “You take care o’ y’rself, y’ hear?”

“I will,” Sam said. He stepped away, gave them both an encouraging smile, and left.

Brook began to cry.

“C’mon, Brook,” Crocus murmured, putting a hand on his head. “Men don’t cry.”

Brook fiercely rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. “I—I can’t help it—”

Crocus knelt next to him and put his arm around his shoulder. “I know,” he said. “I know.”

April, 1942

Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean

“Hey,” Iceburg said. He and Franky were in a cabin on the ship. Franky had constantly jumped at small noises and often stayed close to Tom or Kokoro, even sleeping with one at night for comfort.

Franky looked up at Iceburg. “What?” he said. At that time, Iceburg was his only company.

“Is it . . . well . . .” Iceburg shifted where he sat. “Is it really that bad?”

Franky looked down.

“Well, hey, is it really that bad?”

“Shut your face.”

“Geez, okay,” Iceburg muttered.

Franky brought his knees to his chest. “I just . . .” he made a face. “It feels like . . . it could happen . . . all over again, any time . . .”

He hid his face in his knees. “I know I’m being dumb.”

“Well, you are Dumb-anky,” Iceburg said, grinning.

Franky looked up. “Look who’s talkin’, Stupid-burg,” he snapped.

The boys fell into their usual banter, and once this quieted, Franky had calmed down a bit.

May, 1942

The Bronx, New York

“How you feelin’, champ?” Tom asked as the group headed down the tall and noisy street in New York.

Franky scowled. “I’m fine,” he mumbled. He’d recovered from the sea travel shortly before they’d [redacted]

The group got some odd and even frightened looks from passerby—their group, made of all different shapes and sizes and colors, certainly drew attention.

“So?” Kokoro said. “Where’s our new home?”

“Hold your horses, now, we’ll be taking a taxi,” Tom said. “Should be one passing by any minute . . . I hear there’s a bunch of ’em here.”

Sure enough, a bright yellow cab soon came rushing down the street. Tom quickly stuck out an arm, trying to hail it down, and Kokoro and Iceburg imitated him while Franky leaned on his walking stick.

But the car just passed right by.

“That was rude,” Franky exclaimed. “What’s that about?”

Another cab bypassed them, despite their clear signals.

Tom sighed. “Kokoro, what do you think?”

“I’ll take care of this,” Kokoro said firmly. “You boys stand back there, go on.”

The other three backed up about ten feet while Kokoro waited. As another cab turned the corner, she stuck out her arm, and it rolled to a stop.

“Where to, lady?” the driver asked, rolling down the window.

Kokoro smiled. “My family and I have some luggage to put in the back first,” she said sweetly. “Boys!”

The driver squinted suspiciously at Tom as he and Iceburg carried the suitcases to the trunk. A moment passed before the door was popped open and the luggage was loaded in.

“Thank you ever so much, sir,” Kokoro said. She got into the stained backseat with the others, helping Franky in.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Tom said politely, and he gave the driver the address. “We’ll tip extra for the luggage.”

The cabbie gave him a short nod and stepped on the gas.

“Tom,” Franky said loudly, “I don’t get it, why didn’t the other two guys stop?”

Kokoro and Tom shushed him.

“But—”

“Franky, keep your voice down, we’re in a car,” Tom hissed.

Franky sulked into the seat.

They soon reached the apartment building. Kokoro and Iceburg got the things out of the trunk while Tom paid the cabbie.

“Thanks for your time,” he said cheerfully. The cabbie merely grunted and waited until Kokoro and Iceburg were finished to drive away.

They turned to the building, an old place with the smell of cigars on the outside. Tom, Kokoro, and Iceburg hauled the luggage inside, Franky close behind.

Inside, Tom hesitated. “Lessee now, what room again . . . ?”

He reached into his left pocket and dug out a key with a tag. Iceburg and Franky leaned over to see.

“1C?” Iceburg said. “Well, what’s that mean?”

Before Tom could answer, the entrance to the apartment building swung open and two people entered, a man and a boy holding empty bags. The man’s pockets bulged with change.

“. . . Yeah, we c’n do th’s again, Brook,” the man was saying as he shut the door. “We jus’ gotta wait till we have more scrap.”

He looked up and froze when he saw the group standing in front of the entrance to the first-floor apartments. Brook looked at them curiously.

“Hello, neighbor,” Tom said genially, offering the man a big grin. He stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you! The name’s Tom!”

“Crocus,” Crocus said, sticking out his hand to accept the boisterous handshake, eyeing Tom suspiciously. “You folks livin’ here now?”

“We sure are,” Tom said, dropping his hand. “This here’s Kokoro, Iceburg, and Franky.” He pointed to each of them in turn.

“This’s Brook,” Crocus said, placing a hand on Brook’s shoulder.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Tom, Ms. Kokoro,” Brook said, smiling at them in turn. “Mr. Iceburg, Mr. Franky.”

His manner of speaking brought raised eyebrows from Iceburg and Franky, though neither commented. Brook’s eyes travelled over Franky’s lack of nose and the walking stick he was relying on. Franky glared at Brook and he quickly looked away.

“Well,” Crocus said abruptly. “We’ve gotta go. Nice meetin’ you.”

He gave the group a nod and went up the stairs. Brook followed, waving goodbye.

“What nice folk,” Tom commented, smiling.

“That kid was weird,” Iceburg muttered.

Tom smacked his head. “Don’t be rude! Anyway, we’re on this floor, letter B . . .”

They found their apartment and entered. Quick scouting showed them that the living room was straight ahead along with a small area for dining, the kitchen was small and to the left, and the single bedroom was accessible through a closet, just after a bathroom.

The living room already held a couch and coffee table. Franky slowly limped over and gratefully collapsed with a sigh of relief.

“You sure you’re not tired?” Iceburg teased, sitting next to him.

“Shut up,” Franky mumbled, massaging his legs and wincing.

“Tom, when are you going back to work?” Kokoro asked.

Tom stretched his arms up as he walked around the apartment, looking it up and down. “I got a new contract with someone named . . .” he scratched his head. “Spanda . . . or something? Anyway, I’ll work on commission from now on—repairing ships that come in and such.”

“Well, anything we can do to help?” Iceburg asked hopefully, sitting up.

Tom laughed. “Not with my job, you can’t! But I’m sure no one would mind if you two came down to the shipyard and observed the work, so long as you behave.”

Iceburg and Franky brightened.

July 4, 1942

The Bronx, New York

The sun had barely sunk below the skyline when the first firework went off, accompanied by cheering.

“Boys, would you like to go get some ice cream?” Kokoro asked, heading into the living room. “Places’ll be closing soon, but we’ve got time.”

[Unfinished]

December 25, 1943

The Bronx, New York

“Merr’ Christm’s, Brook,” Crocus said gruffly. Handmade paper streamers decked out the small apartment. A miniature pine tree sat in the corner, needles falling off onto the two presents underneath. The First Noel played softly on the radio for what seemed like the hundredth time that week.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Crocus,” Brook said, grinning. His frame was lankier than it had been last spring; he was growing quickly, and the ankle of his old pants went halfway up his shin. “D’you think Pop’s gonna come home soon?”

Crocus shook his head. “No clue, boy. Sure seems like we’re winn’ng th’ war, though.”

“Yeah,” Brook said with a nod, having no grasp of politics. “Can I open my presents now—?” His voice cracked on the last word and he coughed.

Crocus sighed and lit up a cigar. “Go ’head,” he muttered around it. “Don’ get your hopes up.”

But before Brook could even rise, there was a crisp, professional knock at the door. Brook looked up with a hopeful light in his eyes. Crocus frowned, stubbed out his cigar, stood, and strode to the door. He opened it to find a delivery boy standing just outside.

“What is it?” he muttered.

The boy adjusted his cap. “Telegram.”

February, 1944

The Bronx, New York

Tom, Iceburg, and Franky began walking back to the apartment, the oldest keeping a slow pace for Franky’s sake. Tom had just finished work for the day. As had become routine, the boys had gone with him, walking all the way to where he worked in the shipyard near the docks. Franky didn’t seem to have a problem watching the ships, though he jumped at small noises near the area.

“You can lean on me if you need to,” Tom offered, grinning.

Franky scowled. In an effort to prove his strength, he had chosen not to bring his walking stick along.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, catching himself as he stumbled. “Tom, your boss is really stupid.”

Tom rapped Franky’s head with his knuckles. “Don’t be rude, boy!”

“Well, gee whiz, Franky, tone it down,” Iceburg muttered. “But . . . I don’t like him either, Tom. He’s such a jerk to you!”

Tom hit him as well. Iceburg rubbed his head.

“Both of you stop that,” Tom scolded. “We should be grateful that I’m able to work at all!”

“Yeah, but Spanda ain’t fair!” Franky protested, his legs wobbling as he walked. “You work harder than anyone there and he treats you like dirt!”

“Well, you deserve to be treated way better,” Iceburg pressed.

“Boys,” Tom said seriously. “Listen good. I was lucky to get this job, real lucky, and if Spanda catches wind of any complaining or muttering on how I’m treated, I’ll find myself out of work faster n’ you can say ‘shipwright.’ I know it ain’t fair, but we gotta grin and bear it if we wanna keep food on the table. Capisce?”

“Fine,” Iceburg muttered. “But I don’t like it.”

“Don’t worry yourselves on my account,” Tom said, grinning. “I’ll just have to put up with it and do my work resolutely.”

Franky’s legs gave out and he collapsed.

“And you shouldn’t try to push yourself,” Tom added.

“I’m fine,” Franky growled. He tried to stand up, but his legs were like jelly.

“Like heck you are,” Iceburg muttered.

“Stupid-burg,” Franky said, sticking out his tongue.

“Dumb-anky,” Iceburg said in retaliation as Tom picked up Franky.

“Come on, you two, let’s get back and put some food in our bellies,” Tom said, striding forward. Iceburg ran after him while Franky sulked.

July, 1944

The Bronx, New York

Crocus was out at work and Brook was in high spirits for the first time in months. Just the other day, the press had announced the beginning of what promised to be a stunning turnaround for the Allies. The rest of the paper was filled with the funnies and run-of-the-mill articles on the market, sporting events, and Don Newgate’s ever-present gang.

Brook went to the side of the couch, bent over, and grabbed his violin case. He set it down after adjusting his pants—though they’d been a gift only from Christmastime, he had quickly outgrown them, the ankles now riding his calves. He never complained, for he knew Crocus didn’t have the money to spare to buy him new clothes more than twice a year.

Brook carefully removed the old thing from its case, lifted it to his shoulder, and rested his chin upon it as he drew the bow across the strings. Binks’ Brew filled the room, bright and cheery and splashing blue and gold everywhere. He grinned and moved all around the room, spinning slowly and closing his eyes.

He was only halfway through the song when there was a loud knock at the door. He abruptly stopped playing, set down the instrument, and hurried to the front.

Brook cautiously opened the door. To his surprise, there stood his downstairs neighbor Franky, whom he had hardly seen since the move-in. Franky was leaning heavily on his walking stick and, despite being nearly two heads shorter, glowered up at Brook.

“Hello, Mr. Franky,” Brook said with a polite smile. “Do you need something? Mr. Crocus is out right now.”

“Yeah, I need you to stop playing that dumb violin,” Franky snapped. Unlike Brook’s, his voice still carried a boyish pitch. “I was tryna sleep.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Brook said in surprise. “I’ve done it before, so I didn’t think—”

“I ain’t usually here this time of day,” Franky muttered. “But Tom said I couldn’t come today on account of pushing myself too much.”

“Oh.”

They stood there. Brook shifted his weight.

“Er—do you want to come in?” he blurted out. He grinned. “For a little bit? No one else is here, and I won’t play if it bothers you.”

Franky eyed him.

“Sure,” he mumbled at last.

Brook stepped aside, allowing Franky to enter. Franky hobbled in slowly and Brook walked behind him until he reached the living room, where he collapsed onto the armchair, rubbing his legs.

“Golly, did you come all the way up those stairs by yourself?” Brook asked in awe.

Rather than respond, Franky covered the scarred center of his face with his hands, wincing. “Gee whiz, it stinks in here,” he mumbled, blinking hard.

“Oh, that would be the cigars,” Brook remarked, glancing to the ashtray. “I never take notice of it, myself.”

“My no—my sense of smell is kinda sensitive, I guess,” Franky muttered, lowering his hands. “I’ll get used t—”

His face scrunched up and he sneezed.

“God bless you,” Brook said automatically. Franky grunted in response, rubbing his face.

“I suppose no one in your family smokes, then?” Brook added, sitting on the couch.

Franky shook his head, propping his walking stick against the chair. “Tom has a cigarette at work sometimes, and Kokoro says she quit smoking years ago.”

Brook grinned. “Mr. Crocus let me try a cigar not long ago,” he admitted. “It made me ill, so I don’t think I’d fancy another anytime soon!”

Franky glanced around. “There ain’t a lot of photos here, huh?”

Brook shook his head. “Mr. Crocus says over and over he’ll buy more film soon, but he never does.”

He smiled when he saw the wisps of sky-blue upon Franky’s words. He couldn’t help but notice this, for it so rarely happened with typical speech rather than a proper song. His own voice, to him, never carried colors, and so he assumed it must be the same for everyone else.

“I’m gonna ask you something kinda rude,” Franky said.

Brook grinned. “Thank you for your honesty! Go right ahead.”

“Where’s your mom and pop?”

Brook’s smile vanished and he looked down. “I’m told my mom died when I was young,” he said. “And Pop is . . .” He clasped his hands together. “Pop joined the army over a year ago. Last Christmas, Mr. Crocus and I got a telegram. He’s in Heaven with mom now.”

“Oh,” Franky said dumbly. “Gee, that’s rough. I’m real sorry.”

“I’m sure they’re happy together,” Brook added as an afterthought. He forced a smile back onto his face. “Mr. Franky, if you don’t mind me asking—”

“You can ask whatever you want, after that.”

Brook nodded. “Where did you move here from? You look like you lived somewhere warm.”

Franky shifted where he sat. “Hawaii.”

“Golly, that’s nearly halfway around the world,” Brook exclaimed, remembering a map he’d seen. “Isn’t that where the Japanese army attacked a few years ago?”

Franky flinched. “Y—Yeah.”

“Mr. Franky, are you well?”

“Shut up!”

Brook fell silent at the harsh tone. Franky’s hands rested on his knees, his head bowed low and his legs trembling faintly.

“Do you need anything?” Brook asked at last, rather tentative.

Franky shook his head. Brook clasped his hands under his chin for a moment before reaching for his violin again. He tapped the oak table gently with the bow, and gestured with the violin when Franky looked up. Franky gave him a small nod, and Brook stood, his hair bouncing, and began to play a soft, slow song, made up of lovely blues and violets.

By the time the song came to an end, Franky was sitting up again, staring off into space. Brook set down his violin with a faint clatter and Franky looked back.

“That was nice,” he mumbled.

Brook grinned. “Thank you,” he replied, sitting back down. “I thought you’d like that one—the blues were darker than you, but I suppose that doesn’t matter.”

Franky frowned. “Blues?”

“Oh, yes,” Brook said. “I suppose no one ever told you? Light blue is your color.”

“I dunno what the heck you’re talking about.” Franky looked up in thought. “Y’know something? I do like light blue. I just realized.”

“It’s only natural,” Brook said with a shrug.

“You’re weird,” Franky said bluntly. “I like you.”

Brook grinned broadly. “I like you, too! Oh, my goodness, I’m sorry—do you want anything to drink or eat?”

Franky shook his head.

“Is there anything you like to do?” Brook pressed, hoping he wasn’t being a bad host.

Franky folded his arms and glanced to the side. “I like dancing, but I can’t now ’cause my legs are stupid.”

Brook hesitated, but he didn’t want to be rude, so he looked away from the scars decorating Franky’s limbs. “Will they get stronger with time?”

Franky nodded. “Oh, they’d better,” he said, clapping his hands together. “I could barely walk at all at first, but I bet if I rest for awhile, I could even run!”

“I’ll race you when you can,” Brook offered, smiling.

“No way! You’re way taller, not even counting your hair!” Franky stuck out his tongue. “Maybe when we’re the same height.”

“If you insist.”

“Your hair’s pretty super,” Franky said, staring. “How come yours stays up like that, and mine doesn’t?”

“I believe it’s because of its shape,” Brook said, feeling his hair. “Straight hair falls down unless you put something in it, doesn’t it? Curls like this tend to stick out and up.”

“Tom has hair like that,” Franky said. “And his doesn’t stay up. Then again, he is going bald, and his hair’s shorter. I wish I had hair like yours.”

“I’m sorry,” Brook said, unsure of what else he could say.

[Unfinished]

2 notes · View notes

plumeofacat · 4 years

Text

Chapter 2

Into the fire, the young red hair woman stand on her hands and knees above a scared child mosnter that froze on the ground. Lanna look at the kid who is a humanoid wolf of 6 years old, then she close her eyes full of pain tears. Luckily for her, the fall of the beams created a safe exit trough the broken window.

Lanna: Kiddo... Are your parents here?

Kid : No... They left to find food this morning...

Lanna : ok... Go out by the window and go gat some help... Tell the monsters that the threats left.

The child nod and run on his four paws outside. Relieved of the fear of killing someone, Lanna weakens, restraining herself from falling as much as she can. Yet another scream of pain escape from her lips as she can't lift the beam. She ends up tackled by the burning beam and the heat rise to her head until she loose consciousness.

Outside, the kid smelling smoke run between fir trees, calling for help, until he fell in pasty that is own by Muffet, a monster-spider addicted to money. He ask for help, but he only get a glass of water and some pat on the back. The young wolf doesn't hesitate to say to the spider that no one is threatening the city and that allow the chief to call all of her spider so they can inform everyone.

Relieved, he then ask if they can save the human stuck in his house. No one really want to, since the cub didn't specified that this human is different and since he tay vague on the identity of his savior. After all, he didn't really see much and the shock don't help him to remember any details. Despise everything, he insist until he say that her eyes change color and looked into his soul. This information, that came back at the same time as he said it, earned him black gazes and the order to shut up.

A portail appear just in front of the house taht is collopasing on the creator's sister. Besides, the brother cross the portal with Error and he sees the beams falling, not knowing immediately who is inside. The blackbone that glitch wear black redingote coat, like what wear a corsaire, which the ledges are gloden and whose sleeves are lengthened by clearly sewn fabrics and his black shorts are lengthened to in the same way, showing that his legs are, in fact, red. At his feet, the black sandals showed his red feet, contrasting with his red t-shirt. A night blue long scarf came decorate his neck.

He start to look everywhere, looking for a red tuft, or at least a white mask, but in a fire it's hard to spot a precice red taint. the effect is the same for the mask that blend into the snow, evevn if he find it... at least, he walk on the pieces that Loucas left behind him. Ink take a good five seconds to understand on what he is walking, wwhile his opposite walk toward the burning house, curious.

Error: ̷L̷a̷n̷n̷a̷ ?

A distant moan is audible through the flame, but only by the magically sensible hearing of a skeleton. That's what get the duo's attention, but the flames activated Ink's overprotective worrying to the point that he jump into what's beggening to be ruins while yelling his sister's name. Luckily for the artist's life, the one who seems to ust have jump of an oven use his strings to catch his opponent. He then use his other hand to lauch strings on the structure on the young women, ignoring panicked complained from his prisoner. However, he can't get Lanna out, since five of his strings are busy at restraining the unconscious' brother.

Error: ̷I̷n̷k̷,̷ ̷i̷f̷ ̷y̷o̷u̷ ̷w̷a̷n̷t̷ ̷m̷e̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷b̷e̷ ̷a̷b̷l̷e̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷g̷e̷t̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷o̷u̷t̷,̷ ̷c̷a̷l̷m̷ ̷d̷o̷w̷n̷!̷ ̷

The bugged voice seems to calm the white skeleton, despite the fact that he lost his pupils and doesn't react at all. However, Error doesn't care about it and focus only on the one he have to save. He shake, raising the beams isn't being easy, while he use his strings on the inhured one to pull her withouth cares.

Ink: E-Error... Avoid hurting her more...

Error: ̷c̷o̷n̷s̷i̷d̷e̷r̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷ ̷s̷t̷a̷t̷e̷,̷ ̷I̷ ̷d̷o̷n̷'̷t̷ ̷t̷h̷i̷n̷k̷ ̷I̷ ̷c̷a̷n̷ ̷d̷o̷ ̷w̷o̷r̷s̷e̷.̷

Like a lifeless puppet, the body Honging on the ground to be release in the same time as the burned structured. A crash is heard while ink hurry to his sister's side, clearing her face. Few seconds after, Error sit on the other side of the incouscious.

Error: ̷H̷e̷y̷,̷ ̷t̷h̷e̷ ̷a̷r̷t̷i̷s̷t̷!̷ ̷M̷a̷k̷e̷ ̷a̷ ̷p̷o̷r̷t̷a̷l̷ ̷s̷o̷ ̷w̷e̷ ̷c̷a̷n̷ ̷g̷o̷ ̷b̷a̷c̷k̷,̷ ̷s̷o̷ ̷I̷ ̷c̷a̷n̷ ̷c̷o̷l̷l̷a̷p̷s̷e̷ ̷a̷f̷t̷e̷r̷ ̷h̷e̷a̷l̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷h̷e̷r̷.̷

Ink: hmm? ... Ok...

Almost lifeless, the tattooed skeleton takes his geant brush, then he draws a circle with the ink that is magically on it. Error takes advantage of the opening to nonchalantly lift Lanna by an arm, while the brother helps to move her on the couch, before closing the portal. Taking advantage of the house owner's turn back, the guest does what he calls a ''sleight of hand'' to accelerate the natural regeneration of the humans and the magical one of the monsters that lay in the red DNA.

As soon as Ink turns again, he sees his opposite unconscious on the ground and his sister emits a light that changes color every second and gets brighter and brighter. Wanting to leave Error sleep on something more comfortable than the ground and to not wake him up, the creator uses his telekinesis power to put him on his bed. However, since he needed to go upstairs and go at the end of the allway to reach his bedroom, the only awake one doesn't notice that the unconscious woman is floating above the couch, getting slowly higher as the light she emits could blind anyone.

And indeed, the front door opens, making the guests growl. They are the two that met Lanna the same morning. With a sigh, Viper let Blue come in with his sunglasses on. To avoid walking with his eyes closed, the one from Swapfell put on sunglasses to, before growling again.

Viper: That doesn't do shit!

Blue: Normally it works, but not when there is a sun in Ink's living room...

Viper: By the way, how did they manage to have a solar star in there house? Lanna summoned it or is it Ink?

Blue: Sooooooooo coooooooll! They made a sun!

Ink: What the...? ... LANNA!!

In the same time as Ink yells his sister's name, the skeleton's steps bring him in the room, then, a brochestroke later, an ink bubble surrounds the young woman, lessening the light, like she is a dark lamp. The two self-proclaimed guests take off their sunglasses, staring at the bubble with surprise, while the creator stares at the two other skeletons awake, his arms crossing on his chest.

Ink: What are you doing here? I already have two unconscious to handle, I don't wanna handle a duo that is unconscious in another way....

Viper: Hey, painter! Calm down! We came to see how Lanna had taken the cart's hit!

Blue: And apologizing again...

Ink: *sigh* sorry... Lanna had to fight a new threat and... by my fault, Error had to heal her...

Blue: I thought that healing magic doesn't work on her?

Viper: what? It doesn't work?

Ink: It's not the same... Error only did his sleight of hand.

Blue: I see... Will she be okay?

Ink: With two or three magic paint bottles when she wakes up, she will...

Viper: Why am I always the last one to know these things while she talks to me as much as to anybody?

Ink: hmm? She didn't tell you anything?

Viper: at all and it starts to piss me off...

Blue: I was sure that you were like that with her because you knew

Viper: of course not!

Ink: So, why are you in the category of people that aren't touched by her curse and that worry for her?

Viper: She seems to always be about to collapse, so yea, I have a tendency to worry for her, but I don't see why I shouldn't...

Blue: Ok... You need a Lanna class...

Ink: Let's make it while Lanna and Error are asleep.

Viper: Why?

Ink : These two refuse to let anyone talk about it. Lanna is only embarrassed when people learn how she is... different and Error hates when I precise that, without him, no one would have known Lanna.

Blue: Last time I tried to explain to my brother why she has to keep her distance with him, Lanna knocked him off with a mass that got magically out of nowhere...

Viper: ... Start with the beginning, please.

Ink sigh and offer a drink before, drink that Blue accepts immediately with a smile and that Viper accept, not without growling and sighing. Quickly, the host comes back with three cup of hot water with three tea pockets. Blue complains a second that he has to drink a ''grand-mother drink'' while Viper smiles, relieved to drink his favorite drink.

Ink: Lanna loves them and she forced me to understand to not give you any coffee.

Viper: When I take coffee, it's for work...

Blue: Grandma's

Viper: ... So, can I get the explanations now? I have the sudden impression of not knowing who this girl is and it pisses me off, since she knows me!

Ink: ok ok... We have to go pretty far away to understand her curse... When Lanna was 2, her father threw her into Ebbot Mountain in the classic universe...

Viper : Throw? Like a trash?

Blue: *angry* more like WITH the trash...

For a few seconds, Viper froze while drinking his tea while thinking. In every alternative universe violent or scary that he knows, the monsters don't hesitate to kill anyone... as long as it's not a child... And he never heard of a human corpse in the trash pile in the Ebbot Mountain.

Ink: Luckily for her, I was there to... Think about Error... *take a sup of his coffee*

Viper: About your feelings for him?

Ink: *blush and choke on his sip* N-NO!! about a way to reduce our fights because I was tired!... *cough while getting cooler* ANYWAY! Lanna was screaming as she fell, so I couldn't miss her... I caught her and brought her back to my home to understand what happened.

Viper: You didn't know it was her father?

Ink: I was lost in my thoughts at the moment I could have seen him... Lanna told me in a drawing that day...

Viper: she already knew how to draw this good?

Ink: ...No, I had all difficulties in the world to understand that, it's Error who understood immediately... He came to see what I was doing and probably caused trouble, but he got fascinated by the drawing that was occupying my mind... At the point that I didn't see that Lanna was drinking my magic paint.

Blue: I'm still thinking that you were irresponsible that day...

Ink: Hey ho! It's been 19 years!

Viper: And... How is it possible that she is still alive?

Ink: Because of Error... He did what he calls a sleight of hand that I never have the right to see... However, I understood that it sewed human DNA and magic particles together, making her alive through magic.

Viper: That only explains her powers...

Ink: False, it explains almost everything. By getting back to life like this, Lanna got her eyes and her powers. Though, with her eyes, a curse came to... We don't know how she got to understand that faster than us and explain it, but, in short, everyone that has a problem with monsters, humans or the mix of them hate her without any reason. They even want to kill her as soon as they see her eyes.

Viper: that was what happened in the supermarket?

Blue: Yea.

Ink: Wait..something happened there?

Blue: Hum... Nothing important! And crisis avoided, that's all...

Ink: *suspicious gaze to Blue* hmm...

Viper: So, her eyes create that hate against her... But why not just wearing sunglasses? Why the mask?

Ink: because the light that her eyes create when she has strong emotions activate the curse like she doesn't wear anything. The mask block better the effect, by experience.

Viper: ok... and that light? And that thing that if we understand who she is, it doesn't affect us?

Ink: To be exact, the one that are normally affected by the curse aren't the type who would want to understand her, so it's impossible to explain to them if they already saw Lanna's eyes. Mostly when we already saw them, if we don't understand why we hate her, then... We hate her. The mask only reduces the ''want to kill'' at ''want to destroy her reputation'' and everything around.

Viper: ouch...

Ink: Yea... We don't really know why, but the one who knows that her eyes have a curse that provokes hatred does not hate her after knowing it... Or, like Swapy, they naturally hate her, not because of her magic.

Viper: I think I finally fully understand the story... But... And this attempt to replace the sun?

Viper points the bubble while drinking another sip of his tea, while the two others instinctively look at the sleeping Lanna inside this security globe. The light reduced intensity since the beginning of their discussion and the body levitated a little less, without regaining its original position.

Ink: That... It's when Error sews Lanna... To sew back the two parts of herself. Each time, her powers explode and the effect differs depending on the severity of her injuries, but each time, I have to put her in a bubble or she gets out by a window...

Viper: It happened before?

Ink: *sigh* When she was two... Her telekinesis powers are out of control in these situations.

Blue: She has telekinesis power?

Ink: Ha, it's right that you hardly see her using them... It exhausts her magically so quickly that she uses them only when she has a magic paint bottle with her...

Viper: Bordel... This girl is darker than I would have thought...

Ink: Believe me, you miss a big part of her dark past... but it'S not my job to tell you...

The trio fell in embarrassed and thoughtful silence. The only thing that breaks it is the sound of the cups that get empty loudly. Blue and VIper think about what they learned. As weird as it sounds, the first one seemed more shocked than the one who didn't know a thing before. As for the artist, he looks at his sister with worry, sighing, relieved to see the body floating in a more easy to handle high.

Luckily for the unease, the guests' brothers get in with worry. Swapfell Papyrus, AKA Pup when he is in a good mood or Rex when he is in a bad mood, is the more ''damaged''version of Swapy. The only difference with Swapy that isn't the clothes is his scar, similar to his brother's, that starts above his left eye to finish under it. He wears a simple orange jacket with a hood that the ledge is composed of fur. At his neck, an orange ''dog collar'' with thorns comes, breaking his pure image that brings his white shirt under his jacket. To cover his legs he has simple jeans short and for his feet he has shoes that are decorated with flames.

Pup: SANS!

Viper: hmm? Ho! Pup! You're here!

Swapy: Sans! I was searching for you everywhere! What are you doing in the witch house6

Blue: I came to take news about Lanna!

While the Papyruses hold their brothers, the one that hates the injured one looks at the floating body with a frown. However, Since he sees Ink's relieved expression, the tall one doesn't say anything. Viper takes advantage of the moment to explain that Lanna is in a bad state and that they won't be able to talk to her for a moment.

Pup: What? What happened? She's hurt?

Ink: I don't know what happened... I found her under a beam in a house on fire and I left her before in Horrortale's roads...

Swapy: Are you serious? You left her alone in Horrotale? Axe scared everyone, I don't want to imagine the whole universe!

Ink: The universe was under an attack from a new enemy, I needed to get Error, since that ''Loucas'' was only after Lanna...

Blue: *look at Lanna* He was after her?

Swapy: And you left her alone with this guy? She can't even crush a clover on the ground!

Ink: She's stronger than you could ever imagine, Swapy... I trusted her for the time I needed to convince Error to come and help... I didn't think that the guy with fire swords would trap her in a house since she was in the snow!

Viper: Wait, the house she was in... was it in fire before you left?

Ink: *think* Now that you say it... no...

Pup: Weird...

As a thinkful silence settles down, no one notices that the bubble suddenly pops and makes the body hit the ground, waking up the red one. What makes them know that is the painful moan that escapes her lips while she gets up weekly, trying to understand why so many people are in her living room. However, she doesn't have the time to say any words that Swapy's jacket gets on her shoulder. Without trying to understand that her clothes burned earlier, so she is uncovered, the human hands close the jacket that ends up in the middle of her thighs.

Lanna: heu... what is going on?

Ink: Are you serious?! It's rather to me to ask that!

Lanna: first, I'm not serious, I'm Lanna and second... I wake up, suddenly surrounded by Viper, Blue, Pup, Swapy and you and... *shut her eyes close* Where is my mask Inky?!?!

Ink:: Heum...

Lanna: QUICK!! Before Swapy tries to kill me like the others!!!! I managed to hide my eyes from him, Fucking fuck of shitty shit!!!

Ink: Lanna, your mask was in a thousand pieces in the snow and full of blood in Horrortale...

Lanna: ... Shit...

Swapy: You know that my hate isn't because of your eye, but because of your character of a...

Lanna: You're an ass who doesn't care to know who I am, so shut up!

Not used to hear her answering like that, Underswap Papyrus freeze while frowning and crossing his arms. Ink sighs, then asks his sister to try if it's really her curse, to open her eyes. However, forcing the red hair to do something that she doesn't want to is harder than it seems at first, because even with the ''we are several, we can protect you'' argument, she shut her eyes with more strength.

Luckily for the test, Swapy decided to let his usual anger keep against her doing the job. I caught the human by an arm and forced her to turn her face towards him. Keeping his cigarettes behind him with his telekinesis powers, Swapy sighs.

Swapy: If you don't open your eyes, I'll do something that will make you...

Lanna: Like what? Breaking my legs?

Swapy: Like I want to break you even more, you doing a great job alone... No... Worse... What would disgust you the most...

Lanna: Hein? ... That you tied me up in a striptease bar?

Swapy: You do that on purpose?

Lanna: Since you already disgust me, I don't see what could be...

In annoyed growl, Swap Papyrus put his teeths on Lanna's lips while closing his eye sockets of disgust, before opening one to look in the changing eyes. Three seconds doesn't pass when the skeleton surprises himself by letting his hand that holded her face slip along her jaws to finish on her neck, taking all his strength to not strangle her, despite that his fingers tighten up slowly. The others around freeze out of surprise, not noticing that victime shakes and tries to fight back. She pulls on her detained arm. She uses the free one to push vainly Swapy. She tries to unstick her lips to the teeths. She tries to call for help.

However, nothing happened.

What saves Lanna is that she kicks where, normally, men don't like to be touch in a non-sexual situation. Immediately, he seems to get back to reality, since he let her go and step back, restraining himself to put his hands on the sensible place. The physical separation if the two ennemies unfreeze the rest of the room, while Lanna give a dark gaze at her brother.

Lanna: I need bleach... And I think that this bee's pee drinker to....

Blue: Ok" *run to the bathroom*

Lanna: How does he know where the bleach is?!

Viper: When you all work, he clean your house...

Lanna: but... Why?

Ink: I asked him... The first time it was so he could make up the fact that he made our kitchen explode and since then... He continues...

Lanna freeze while blinking a lot, lost. She doesn't try to understand that she looks at Swapy in the corner of her eyes, followed by a sigh that brings her iris to her feet. She pats her throat while shaking, some pictures coming back in her memory.

Viper: Lanna? Is everything ok?

Lanna: Hu? heum... Yea yea... I just need to find a way to hide my eyes back... Can you make an other mask for me, Inky? you're better than me in drawing...

Ink: You'll be able to handle a week without it?

Lanna: I'll take sunglasses... It's better than nothing

Viper: If you have strong emotions, it's not working , isn't it?

Lanna: As long as I don'T have any strong emotion that make my eyes shine...

Viper: Why not walking withouth anything on your face?

Lanna: Don't wanna get killed... again.

Summary : https://plumeofacat.tumblr.com/post/644284784841031680/summary

Next : https://plumeofacat.tumblr.com/post/646722466619736064/chapter-3

#Ink'sis #Ev #ErrorSans #InkSans #Lannapainted

0 notes

roslinadama-sinequanon · 7 years

Text

Christmas in Connecticut-Chapter 16

In this chapter Sharon and Andy attend Midnight Mass with their family. Later Andy and Rusty have an unexpected conversation regarding Rusty’s sexuality.

I always felt we were missing a fathership conversation regarding Rusty’s sexuality. IMO it was all very ambiguous. We saw both Provenza and Andy being a little uncomfortable with Rusty being gay--Provenza accepted it as long as they didn’t have to discuss it. When Rusty went to Andy once to ask him his adviceAndy seemed a little uncomfortable and asked if it was about him and Gus. However, by the time Andy was living with Sharon, and Rusty was angsting over Gus, Andy seemed totally comfortable with it all. Also, Andy was far more comfortable and accepting of Provenza’s former partner who turned out to be transgender, while Provenza was a real jerk about it.

Anyway, this is a sensitive subject that I don’t have any experience with so I hope I did it justice and also kept Andy and Rusty in character.

Now available here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13293105/chapters/31441479

and here:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12789981/16/Christmas-in-Connecticut

and here:

O holy night! The stars are brightly shining It is the night of our dear Savior's birth Long lay the world in sin and error pining 'Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn Fall on your knees! O hear the angel voices! O night divine, the night when Christ was born O night, O holy night, O night divine! O night, O holy night, O night divine!

Truly He taught us to love one another; His law is love and His gospel is peace Chains He shall break, for the slave is our brother; And in His name all oppression shall cease Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we With all our hearts we praise His holy name Christ is the Lord! Then ever, ever praise we Noel, Noel

*****

Sharon held Andy’s gloved hand as they followed William and Colleen up the long walkway to a large stone church. St. Marys. Snow crunched under their boots, their breath fogging in front of them. It was a clear frigid night, the stars shining brightly in the black sky. Sharon shivered and hunkered deeper into her long wool coat. Her dad teased her about it but years in sunny Southern California really did seem to have thinned her blood.

“Papa Andy.” Tyler fell in step with them. “It’s gonna be really, really late when we leave church tonight. Do you think we’ll see Santa?”

Sharon gave Andy a sidelong glance, biting back a grin. They had been following the NORAD Santa tracker all night on the computer and she had just heard Nicole tell the boys that Santa was still far from North America. However, true to form, when their mom or dad told them something they didn’t want to hear, they turned to Papa Andy who often gave them what they wanted. Nicole called him a sucker. He called it being a grandfather.

“Sorry, kiddo. I think your mom’s right, this time. Besides, you don’t want to see Santa.”

“Yes we do.”

“No, you really don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because if you see him the magic’s gone and he disappears.”

Tyler’s eyes widened and now Scott was listening to every word. “So we wouldn’t get any presents?”

“Nope. The presents come with the magic.”

“Oh…“ Tyler sounded a bit shocked by that news. “Then I’m gonna keep my eyes closed all the way home.”

“Me too,” Scottie vowed.

“Good idea,” Andy agreed.

“I don’t think we’re going to have to worry about it,” Sharon said as they began climbing up the stairs. “If they‘re anything like my two when they were little they‘ll be sound asleep by the time we leave church.”

Andy opened the door, allowing Sharon to pass before following. Inside the vestibule, they both paused to dip their fingers in the fonts of holy water, crossing themselves before entering. The church was dimly lit, the sanctuary covered in fir garlands and red ribbons, the altar surrounded by dozens of large flowering red poinsettias. Each pew was decorated with garland, a big red velvet ribbon tied in a bow and a white candle. Organ music filled the chamber with the soft beautiful strains of “Oh Holy Night”, which just happened to be one of Sharon‘s favorite Christmas hymns. The scent of frankincense permeated the air, bringing with it the sense of familiarity and peace that it always did for her when she entered a church.

There was something mystical about midnight mass. It brought back all the feelings of enchantment that Sharon had felt as a child. The rituals, the Christmas hymns, the excitement of being allowed to stay up so late, the strangeness of being at church so deep in the night and best of all the titillating possibility of seeing Santa and his reindeer flying across the night sky. All of it had been as magical for her and Chrissie as it later had been for Emily and Ricky, and now Tyler and Scottie.

But for all that, her feelings as an adult ran so much deeper. Reaching out to thread her fingers through Andy’s, she looked down the pew at her parents, her children, her soon to be stepfamily, warmth spreading through her. She truly was blessed. She had a man in her life that loved her with all his heart and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Her parents were aging gracefully, her children were healthy, and with Nicole, Dean, and the boys, that family was expanding in ways she’d never expected. She couldn’t remember ever being as happy as she was right now.

The only blemish on that happiness came when she turned from her family to take in the beautifully decorated altar. The sharp twinge in her heart caused her hand tighten on Andy’s and she had to blink back the quick sting of tears. When she thought about marrying Andy this was where she pictured herself. Standing at an altar covered in flowers, making their promises to each other in the presence of God. But what if they couldn’t make that happen?

As if he could read her mind, Andy looked over at her with a smile. Just a few hours ago, she’d tried to explain that smile to Chrissie, but it was hard to convey the power that it had over her. That smile could lighten her day and cause her knees go weak with lust. It could fill her with tenderness and make her heart soar with joy. And best of all there were times like tonight when it had the power to make her feel like no matter what happened; everything was going to be all right.

After a brief moment of silence that got everyone’s attention, the organist began the loud joyous strains of “O Come All Ye Faithful” which began in Latin but would eventually switch over to the English translation. The sanctuary lit and the congregation rose for the opening procession; the swinging thurible of smoky incense, ministers carrying the cross and candles, the deacon carrying the Book of Gospels and finally the priest. Standing at Andy’s side listening to the voices rise in the call of the faithful, the sense of peace she had experienced upon entering the church washed through her again. She smiled back at him. It didn’t matter what Jack signed or didn’t sign, as long as she had this man by her side, everything else would sort itself out. And with the joy of that peace, her voice joined his in the beautiful hymn.

Adeste, fideles, Laeti triumphantes, Venite, venite in Bethlehem! Natum videte, Regem angelorum Venite, adoremus! Venite, adoremus! Venite, adoramus! Venite, adoramus Dominum!

O come, all ye faithful Joyful and triumphant O come ye, o come ye to Bethlehem Come and behold Him Born the King of Angels! O come, let us adore Him O come, let us adore Him O come, let us adore Him Christ the Lord

*****

Trying not to wake anyone, especially the kids, Andy nearly tip toed down the stairs. When he got to the living room he found it dark, save for the blinking lights on the Christmas tree. They must have forgotten to shut them off when they all finally stumbled off to bed after returning from midnight mass and putting the kids gifts out under the tree. His feet barely made a sound thanks to the plush carpet runner, but he cursed at the loud click the lock on the front door made.

“Andy?”

“Jesus Christ!” Andy spun around, going for the gun that was not on his hip. He was barefoot, in new red and green plaid flannel pajama bottoms and a dark green waffled t-shirt--a gift from Sharon. It was an O‘Dwyer/Raydor tradition that everyone got new pajamas on Christmas Eve in preparation for pictures Christmas morning. It was easy now to see where Sharon got her love of tradition and holidays and how she‘d passed that down to Ricky and Emily who had been waiting eagerly, like little kids, for their new pajamas. Though Rusty was still fairly new to the whole tradition thing, he was sitting in the big overstuffed chair in front of the Christmas tree wearing the same new pajamas, but with a red shirt instead of green. “Are you trying to really give me a heart attack?”

“You just got engaged. You’re not running out on my mom, are you?”

“Yeah, barefoot in my pajama’s. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then what are you doing creeping around in the night like a cat burgler?”

Andy rolled his eyes at the description. “We ate the cookies the kids left for Santa, but we forgot the carrots they put out for the reindeer. I told your mom I’d come down and grab them.” Andy sank down on the couch across from Rusty. “Why are you still up?”

“I dunno, I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Too excited about your presents? “

Rusty gave him an amused smirk before his face turned serious again.

“I’ve been thinking a lot. Being here this week, getting to see where mom grew up. Now the holiday. Before I started living with Sharon, I never celebrated Christmas. Most of the time my mom was so strung out she didn’t even know what day it was. Even if she had remembered that it was Christmas, she didn’t have any money for a tree or presents or a big Christmas dinner. And we sure never went to midnight mass or watched Christmas movies or baked Christmas cookies together. My first Christmas with Sharon I acted like I thought it was all pretty lame, but that isn’t really how I felt. I like that she gets so into it--even when she makes me watch ‘White Christmas’ with her.”

Andy chuckled. “It is her favorite Christmas movie.”

“Sometimes when I listen to Emily and Ricky and they’re telling stories about what it was like for them growing up I feel like that little match girl in the story they were talking about the other day. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I’d been born to Sharon. If I’d had the chance to grow up with her as my mom and always had these big Christmas’s with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. To be tucked into bed at night with a Christmas story from the 25 Days of Christmas. To decorate gingerbread and sugar cookies and make popcorn and cranberry garland while we listened to Christmas carols. To sit in front of the tree watching all those classic Christmas movies together, even those cheesy Hallmark ones she loves. To spend a day making ornaments out of pinecones that she’d put on the tree no matter how ugly they were. And let’s face it, Ricky’s were pretty ugly.”

Having recently seen some pictures of Sharon’s earlier Christmas’s when her kids were young Andy could only nod in agreement. “They really were pretty ugly.”

“I mean, I know it wasn’t perfect. I know they had some hard times because of Jack. But Emily and Ricky were really lucky to have a mom like Sharon.”

“Yes, they were. And so are you. Sharon’s a very special person and she’s an incredible mom. I’m sorry you didn’t get to have those kinds of Christmas’s when you were young. But you get to have them now. And I bet they mean even more to you because you don’t take them for granted. I had a lot of lonely Christmas’s after my divorce and for a long time I was filled with anger and bitterness and regret. It ate at me and I wasn’t a very happy person. But since I met your mom, I find it’s a lot easier not to look back. I’m happy here and now in the present and that’s what’s important. I’m looking forward to my future. And so should you. You’ve got a lot going for you Rusty, don’t let your past take away the enjoyment of your present.”

“Mmm..” Rusty hummed in way that was very reminiscent of his mother, biological or not. “That’s not always easy.”

“Are you missing Gus?”

“Maybe a little.”

“It’s too bad he couldn’t come.”

“It’s probably for the best.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, you know…” He gestured toward his grandparent’s bedroom.

“You know they know you’re gay, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Mom told them right after I came out. But knowing it and seeing it are two different things.”

Andy’s brow furrowed. After moving in with Sharon, he had become privy to some of the more personal details of Rusty’s love life. He knew Sharon had given Rusty the okay for Gus to spend the night at the condo, yet he’d never done so. It had become quickly apparent that Rusty’s inability to embrace his homosexuality publicly seemed to be a sticking point in his relationship with Gus and had been for a long time. But he’d kept that observation to himself. Which was funny, really. He’d never been shy about offering up his opinions on just about anything. He’d made no bones about his disdain of Slider when Rusty was doing his vlog and had no problem calling the kid out when he thought he was being selfish or taking advantage of Sharon, but unless Rusty had come right out and asked, he’d steered well clear of offering advice on his love life. As if by some unspoken, tacit agreement, he and Rusty had never discussed Rusty being gay. Andy always just figured it was awkward enough for any teen to talk about anything sexual with a parent, let alone for a gay son and the heterosexual live in boyfriend of his mother, so he hadn‘t pushed it. At least that was what he tried telling himself. The truth was more along the lines that he felt awkward about it, and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was time to man up and just get it all out in the open. He took a deep breath and finally asked, “Are you ashamed of being gay?”

Rusty‘s eyes widened with surprise and he began to squirm. Fighting the urge to simply get up and leave, he clutched at the soft fabric of his pajama bottoms in an effort to quell his anxiety. Where had that question from? He’d gone to Andy a few times for advice and had seen the discomfort on the older man’s face when he’d inevitably asked, “Is it about you and Gus?“ As if he would go to Andy Flynn for dating advice. The very thought made his gut clench. Andy was a macho guy’s guy, notorious within the department for his appreciation of beautiful women and serial dating. At least until he‘d fallen head over heels for Sharon and set out to win her heart. How could a man like that understand him? “No….Well, uh…I was…I guess I tried to deny it for a long time. I wanted to be normal. I wanted people to think I was normal. There was even a time I thought I might be able to fix it.”

“By seeing Kris?”

“Yeah. That didn’t work so well. I really liked her, and I tried, but I couldn’t like her that way.”

“You know you don’t need to be fixed, right?”

“I do now. Mom helped me see that. She said I was normal just the way I was and that she loved me no matter what.”

“Your mom is pretty great that way.”

“She is. “

“So, why are you still trying to hide it?”

“What do you mean? “

“Rusty, you had a big fight with Gus because he tried to hold your hand in public. Every time he touches you in front of other people, you flinch away from him.”

Rusty paled. Gus was always riding his ass about that; he had no idea that his discomfort had been so obvious to others. “You noticed that?”

“Hard not to.” He’d also noticed that when they all watched a movie together, Sharon would lay her head on his shoulder, while Rusty made it a point to sit alone in a chair, never next to Gus on the couch. Yet, many times when he and Sharon came home from work or a night out they‘d often found the boys sitting together on the couch. It seemed to be only a problem when others were around.

“I guess I am still a little uncomfortable with it.” Looking up into Andy’s face, he saw none of the recriminations that had twisted the features of his biological mother. Instead, the honest curiosity and compassion in Andy’s eyes compelled him to open up about his deepest fears. “It’s just; I don’t want to be those guys that picked me up on the Strip.”

“Oh my God. Is that what you’ve been worrying about? Rusty you have nothing in common with those guys, anymore than I have anything in common with straight pedophiles that molest little girls. Sex between two consenting adults has nothing to do with what you went through. Gay or straight those guys who prey on underage kids are criminals.”

“I know, I do know that. It’s just…My biological mother said some things to me and I can‘t seem to get them out of my head.”

“Oh yeah, what did she say?” This ought to be good if it came out of the mouth of Sharon Beck.

“She said my being gay was disgusting to her and that knowing what I was is what made her turn to drugs. It‘s also one of the reasons she and Gary dumped me at the zoo.”

Andy gave a rumble of disgust. “Rusty, that’s what addicts do. They blame other people because they don’t want to blame themselves. Did you tell your mom about this?”

“No. She knows I fought with my biological mother but I couldn’t tell her the terrible things she said. I mean, obviously mom knows about my past, that I was hustling, but she doesn’t know all the dirty details. And I don’t want her to know, because I never want her to be revolted by me. I couldn’t stand that. I need her…I need her to love me.”

Andy shook his head with regret. Sharon Beck had sure done a number on this boy. Between growing up with her as a mother and having to sell his body at such a young age, it was no wonder the kid had an issue with his sexuality and intimacy and that he equated sex with being dirty and degrading. It was a good thing that Sharon had gotten him into therapy. He hoped that Dr. Joe was helping him work through all that. “Rusty, we can’t change the past or any of the choices we made but your mother loves you no matter what you’ve done. That’s the thing about unconditional love, there aren’t any conditions attached to it. You are your mother’s son and she is so proud of you and all that you’ve accomplished. “

“I know she is. It’s just …Sometimes I don’t feel worthy of that. She’s always been a great mom to me, from the first day she took me in, but I haven’t always been the greatest son.”

“No, you haven’t.”

Rusty’s head snapped up at the blunt response. One of the reasons he trusted Andy was because he was a “tell it like it is” kind of guy and didn’t waste time sugar coating things. Still he hadn’t expected him to agree so readily.

“Look kid, in my experience teenagers can be a fucking nightmare. I know I gave my own parents some gray hair and I’m sure Emily and Ricky share some of your feelings now that they’re grown. Your mom has the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever known. She has this huge capacity for love and forgiveness. Hell, she fell in love with me and I used to call her the wicked witch of FID.”

Rusty snorted. He hadn’t heard that one before, but it didn’t surprise him. He’d had a front row seat to the animosity Sharon had faced when she’d first taken over Major Crimes.

“She knows everything about my past, all my flaws, all the mistakes that I’ve made and she still agreed to marry me. Because she knows, people change. There’s a saying we use in AA, ‘Don’t let yesterday take up too much of today.’ Most people have something in their pasts that they aren’t proud of, we all make mistakes, but who are today isn’t always who we were.”

Rusty nodded. He sure wasn’t the same person he’d been at 15, living on the streets, selling his body and living in fear every single day. But there was one fear he still had, a question that had always been there in the back of his mind but that he‘d left unasked. A topic he’d never quite been sure how to bring up. Taking a deep breath he figured it was now or never. “I answered your question, now it’s my turn to ask you something.”

“Okay, shoot. “

“Well, since you’re going to be my step- father sometime in the near future, there’s something I need to know before that happens.”

“Okay.”

“When I was coming out…It was really hard for me. That was mainly because of you and Lieutenant Provenza. The two of you, you were the only real men in my life and I was afraid you might be….well…”

“Homophobic?”

“Maybe, yeah. And now I know that you’re not. I mean you’ve been great to me and you’ve been great to Gus. You’ve never treated us with anything but respect and you‘re friends with Gavin and Dr. Morales and Dr. Joe and all. But when you and mom first started looking for houses and I was worried that I might be in the way, you said that if my mom thought you were trying to get rid of me she’d flip out, so I need to know. How much of your acceptance of me is because you want to please my mom? Does it bother you that I am…the way I am? I need you to be honest with me here.”

Andy took a deep breath knowing that his future relationship with his step -son might very well hinge on the way he answered this question.

“Look kid. Was I always sympathetic or understanding when it came to homosexuality? Probably not. But you have to remember, I grew up in a time when no one talked about it, and if they did, it was whispered as if it was something shameful. Then I joined the LAPD in less than politically correct times. Things were different back then. Everything was a stereotype. I honestly believed there were no gay men on the police force, in the fire department, or in professional sports. It sounds stupid now, but that’s the way it was. We were ignorant. Then AIDS hit and it forced guys out of the closet. I had a friend on the force that had to come out. “

“What do you mean, “Had to”?”

“In the 80’s if you got AIDS, you pretty much died.”

“Oh.” Rusty swallowed tightly. He‘d been worried about AIDS too while he was hustling. “You said he was your friend. Did you think about him differently after you found out?”

“At first. I mean it was a shock. Like I said, I had an idea of what a gay man was in my head. Steve was tough, a jock, he didn’t fit the stereotype I’d been taught to believe at all. Like I said, I was pretty ignorant back then. I had no idea that for years he’d been living a double life, pretending to hit on women when we all went out to bars, then sneaking off to gay clubs to pick up guys. He lived every day with the fear that people would find out who he really was and how they would react. That‘s no way to live.”

“I remember feeling like that. I thought for sure Sharon was going to throw me out when I finally had the guts to tell her and then I was really afraid to come out to all of you. I thought it might change how you felt about me. I tried to get Mom to do it for me.”

Andy gave a soft snort. That sounded like Rusty. “Bet that didn’t go over too well.”

“No, it didn’t. Your friend, Steve. Did he die?”

“Yes. He did. I went to visit him in the hospital. You could tell he wasn’t gonna make it, he‘d wasted away to nothing. His mom was there but his father wouldn’t visit him. I was pretty pissed about that. I just can’t see how any father could justify not being there with his son when he’s dying, you know?”

“Sounds pretty shitty.”

“It was pretty shitty. He wouldn’t listen to Steve’s mother, so I called him, told him how sick Steve was, and asked him to come and say good-bye. He refused. All he kept saying was that he didn’t understand how a son of his could be gay.”

“Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you understand how someone can be gay?”

“I…uh…Well, there are a lot of things I don’t understand. I don’t understand how your mother can be a Packers fan over the Rams when she‘s never even come close to living in Green Bay. But I do understand her passionate love of football.”

Rusty rolled his eyes at Andy’s attempt at levity. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“Yeah, okay, you want the truth? Here it is. Do I understand being attracted to another man? No, I don’t. Not any more than you or any gay man can understand my attraction to women. But I’ll tell you what I do understand. I do understand attraction. And I do understand love. And I also understand that we can’t make ourselves love people or not love people and we can‘t help who we are attracted to. You found that out with Kris. I found it out with my ex-wife and with Sharon. I tried to force myself to love my ex after I’d fallen out of love with her because I wanted my marriage to work. I couldn‘t do it, because you can’t make yourself feel something you don’t feel. And then, falling in love with your mom, I mean that was just crazy. The odds were stacked pretty high against us. She was still married, on paper anyway, she was my boss and there was a time when we argued all the time. We were fire and ice.”

“I remember that.”

“Even once we got past the FID stuff, we’re so different. She is a beautiful, cultured woman and I’m a street kid from Brooklyn. She’s fancy French restaurants and I’m hot dogs at Coney Island. She’s Mozart and I’m Jimmy Buffett. She had a bad marriage to an alcoholic and I’m a recovering alcoholic. She’s a cool play it by the rules and I‘m an impatient, push it to the edge. We weren‘t supposed to click. I mean none of it made any sense. But as they say, the heart wants what the heart wants and my heart wants your mom. I understand that.”

“Mmm…Mom did have a pretty heavy duty case of denial going there for a while.”

“It’s never easy when you’ve had a bad relationship to allow yourself to trust in a new relationship.”

“Well, you’re nothing like Jack.”

“Really?” Andy raised a brow. “I’ve heard some people say we’re pretty similar.”

“Not in the ways that matter. The way you treat Mom is so different from the way Jack treated her. You don’t try to manipulate her to do what you want the way Jack did. You don’t hide things or have ulterior motives. You don’t try to guilt her to do what you want or use the people she loves to get at her. Those are all the kinds of things I’ve seen Jack do. You respect her. You do things you don’t want to do because you know it will make her happy and she does the same thing for you. And even though Jack’s known Mom a lot longer than you have, you seem to know her much better than he did.“

“You think?”

Rusty nodded. Because of the trauma and abuse he’d gone through each time his biological mother brought a new boyfriend home, he’d watched Andy’s relationship with Sharon carefully and warily. Expecting the worse, what he had seen instead was a lesson in true love.

A lesson brought home by the way his mother lit up when Andy walked into the room and the sappy adorable smile she’d give him when he brought her home flowers “just because”. It was the way she’d lovingly changed his bandages after his surgery and the way she fussed and worried about him while he was recovering. It was in the affectionate way she played with the buttons on his shirt or stroked his tie and the way she was always careful to wipe her lipstick off his face each time she kissed him. It was in the way she would take his hand in public, intimately threading her fingers through his.

It was in the way that Andy picked up her favorite Thai food for dinner because he knew she’d been busy and had to skip a meal and wanted to make sure that she had something to eat. It was the way he brought her Advil and green tea after seeing her rubbing her temples, instinctively knowing she had a headache. It was the way he opened doors for her and held out her chair and the way he guided her along with a hand resting protectively on the small of her back. It was the way he would swing her legs onto his lap and give her a foot massage after seeing her wince when she took off her high heels at the end of a long day. She didn’t have to ask, he just did it

It was a million little things that to others might have gone unnoticed, but not to Rusty. At work, Andy might be brash, tough, and impatient but with Sharon, he was always attentive, thoughtful and gentle.

“When I was living with my biological mother I saw a lot of the bad stuff in relationships; rage, violence, cheating, but watching you and Mom and the way you support each other and take care of each other has shown me how people are supposed to love each other.”

Andy’s brow lifted with surprise. After initially seeming to be okay with him and Sharon dating, Rusty had grown increasingly squeamish when their relationship progressed to the point that they were visibly affectionate with each other and even more so when he had begun spending the night at the condo. There was nothing unusual about that and Andy hadn‘t let it bother him. No son liked to think about his mom having sex, even if he liked her boyfriend. He got that. But he hadn’t realized just how much the kid had been paying attention to the other aspects of their relationship. “I appreciate you telling me that. It means a lot for me to hear you feel that way. But I want to get back to your initial question because it’s important to me that you know this. No, it doesn’t bother me that you’re gay and I’m not just saying that just because I love your mother and want to please her. I care about you Rusty, and I want you to be happy. Male, female, black, white, rich, poor, gay, straight, we‘re all just people and if there is anything I’ve learned through my experiences it’s that all that matters is trying to be the best person you can be. I think that’s all you can ask of anyone.”

Sitting in the stairwell Sharon’s eyes burned with tears, her heart swelling with love. Her conversation with Christine still fresh in her mind, it was hard to believe there had been a time she’d thought Andy was a jackass.

Andy looked at his watch. “You might want to head off to bed, I have a feeling those two boys are going to have us up at the crack of dawn.”

Rusty laughed. “I think you’re right. They were definitely excited. ” He rose to his feet and stood awkwardly for a moment before finally gearing up the courage to do something he’d never done before. Leaning down he gave Andy a quick half shoulder hug. “Thank you,” he said. “For being honest with me. I’m, uh, glad you’re marrying my mom.”

Andy’s lips quirked in amusement as he watched the boy quickly disappear toward his bedroom. What a difference from the enthusiastic, “Andy, welcome to the family!” bear hug Ricky had given him after he and Sharon had announced their engagement.

Sharon’s two boys could not be more different.

Rusty Beck was a hard nut to crack, no doubt about it. In comparison, Ricky was easy. He’d hit it off right from the start with Sharon’s eldest son, even before they were dating. Ricky was as open and friendly as Rusty was wary and guarded. He had an infectious, fun loving personality, not unlike that of an overgrown puppy. You couldn’t help but like the kid. And he and Ricky had so much in common. They shared a near obsession with the Dodgers and other sports and never had trouble striking up a conversation, most of them revolving around baseball, football, basketball and hockey. And when he found out the kid liked to fish, one of his own favorite pastimes, he’d set up a deep sea fishing trip for the two of them off the coast of Catalina. They‘d listened to the Dodgers on the radio, soaked up the sun and caught an almost 20 pound halibut. It had been a great day, both enjoying each other‘s company. When they got home, they’d grilled fresh halibut steaks out on the condo balcony and told fish stories to Sharon, Rusty and Gus well into the night. The trip had been such a success and they’d had such a good time together they talked about going out again to try to catch Marlin, only this time Sharon and Gus wanted in on the action which left him hopeful that Rusty might give it a try.

It was easy with Ricky in ways it had never been easy with Sharon‘s prickly youngest. With Rusty he‘d often felt like he was walking on eggshells. The kid was moody and sensitive and had a chip on his shoulder a mile wide. It hadn’t been easy to find a way to reach him. Rusty usually turned to his laptop when he and Sharon put a sporting event on TV, he didn’t even know the difference between overtime and extra innings and he found fishing a colossal bore. Yet, somehow, Andy had been able to forge a bond with the boy that grew stronger every day. They cooked together, played chess and cards, competed against each other in video games and when the new season of ‘Game of Thrones’ came out they could both be found, along with Sharon, in front of the TV sharing a big bowl of popcorn.

“Hey.”

At the touch of a hand on his shoulder, Andy was brought out of his thoughts, looking up to see Sharon smiling down on him.

“Hey, what are you still doing up?” He took the hand she rested on his shoulder and kissed the back of it.

“I was waiting for you to come back to bed,” she said, allowing him to pull her down onto his lap. “When you were taking so long I got worried.”

‘How much did you hear?”

“Enough. Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“Considering how long it took you to say it, I can never hear it enough.”

Sharon cupped his handsome face in her palms and leaned in close. “I love you, Andy Flynn,” she said just before her lips touched his.

And Andy could not think of a better way to finish off Christmas Eve then necking with his lady under the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.

TBC

#sharon raydor #andy flynn #shandy #Major Crimes #rusty beck #christmas in connecticut #Shandy Christmas

7 notes · View notes

hotteetrend · 4 years

Text

Christmas trees cut and carry family owned since 1957 spruce pine fir shirt

I have never been through Christmas trees cut and carry family owned since 1957 spruce pine fir shirt . That kind of experience but i believe it’s real. Even scientists studied about it. I think it’s not like love immediately but it’s like you were being impressed by someone so much that make your BTW, what make you search for these informations. I was curious because i thought you have to write a paragraph about this topic to preparing for some classes or english clubs and i’m searching for some clubs like Actually i’m seeking for a writing class and i have no idea where I should come to because you can see my writing looks like kinda wack. And I can’t improve it myself. There is something inside all of us. That diamond drive that pushes us to take ourselves to the next level, not only in our but in life. I desire to liveto my fullest potential, and I know you do too. Christmas trees cut and carry family owned since 1957 spruce pine fir shirt, hoodie, sweater, longsleeve and ladies t-shirt

Classic Ladies

Hoodie

Long Sleeve

Sweatshirt

Unisex Nothing is slowing us down Christmas trees cut and carry family owned since 1957 spruce pine fir tshirt . You are an environmentalist and that is something to brag about. You are conserving energy, especially your own. You believe in recycling and reuse, and you will reuse this T-shirt as many times as you need until they get it. Lazy gets a bad rap without good reason. Lazy people do not run around using up their resources. They don't waste gasoline by driving around and working efficiently. You should be more competitive. Bring this tee with pride and set foot on the table. You will envy all. Everyone knows that kids in the backseat have a magical ability to cause accidents. Whether vehicle accidents or "potty" accidents, kids just bring a host of accidental potential to the situation. On the other hand, certain kinds of accidents that tend to happen in the backseat can actually cause, well... kids. Oh, the irony! Do you have an amazing sense of humor and like to show it off? Now you can with this witty and fun t-shirt and hoodie! You Can See More Product: https://trendteeshirts.com/product-category/trending/ Read the full article

#Christmastreescutandcarryfamilyownedsince1957sprucepinefirshirt

0 notes

theisocertification-ahmedabad · 5 years

Link

First time in India! Get the experience of real looking Zoo Animals🐘🦍🐆🦓 at home. A real-life experience of animals in their habitat, distinctive sounds they make and their unique actions. Kids scan the Digital Magic T-shirt🎽 with Tablet / Phone to bring animals live in 7D🤩 environment. Zoom the animals🐯🐵🦖; listen to their sound, CLICK PHOTOS and RECORD FUNNY VIDEOS with animals. It is bound to bring a smile on your child's face!👶🧒 Kids can start learning about all animals at an early age.

You can also buy Digital Magic T-shirt🧙‍♂️ from E-commerce sites like Amazon, Flipkart.

If you buy the Digital Magic T-shirt🧙‍♂️ from our website: - http:// preschool-kids.com then you can get a free assured gift worth Rs 999/-.

For More Details Contact on: - +919510978321.

#Digital magic T-shirt for kids #Digital T-shirt for Kids #Digital world #Magic T-shirt fir kids #100% cotton T-shirt for kids #kidsfashion

0 notes

noramoya · 7 years

Photo

“Perhaps the most common trait associated with celebrity is narcissism. In 1988, Jackson certainly would have had reason to be self-absorbed. He was the most famous person on the planet. Everywhere he travelled, he created mass hysteria. The day after his sold-out concert at Prater Stadium in Vienna, an AP article ran, “130 Fans Faint at Jackson Concert.” If the Beatles were more popular than Jesus, as John Lennon once claimed, Jackson had the entire Holy Trinity beat.

Yet while Jackson enjoyed the attention—indeed, even thrived on it in certain ways—he also felt a profound responsibility to use his celebrity for more than fame and fortune. In 2000, The Guinness Book of World Records cited him as the most philanthropic pop star in history. Over his lifetime, he reportedly gave over $300 million dollars to charity, including to the Make-A-Wish Foundation, the Elizabeth Taylor AIDS Foundation, the NAACP, UNICEF, and the Red Cross, among dozens of others. “When you have seen the things I have seen and travelled all over the world, you would not be honest to yourself and the world to [look away],” Jackson said.

This indeed was the point of his hit song, “Man in the Mirror,” which reached #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 in the spring of 1988. The song was about a personal awakening. It was about recognizing that change does not happen on its own. It requires that people become aware, that they care about more than themselves, and do something. “Who am I to be blind/ Pretending not to see their needs,” Jackson sings. His performances of the song on the Bad World Tour were both the climactic finale of the show and its parting message. “Make that change,” he summoned his audiences. In an era often characterized by individualism, greed, and materialism, it was an anthem of conscience and responsibility. Jackson donated all of the proceeds of the song to Camp Ronald McDonald for Good Times, which assisted children suffering from cancer.

Even more significant than giving money, however, Jackson gave his time. At nearly every stop on his Bad World Tour, he visited orphanages and hospitals. Just days before arriving in Vienna, while in Rome, he stopped by the Bambin Gesu Children’s Hospital, handing out gifts, taking pictures, and signing autographs. Before leaving, he pledged a donation of over $100,000 dollars. Before a concert in London at Wembley Stadium he visited Great Ormond Street Children’s Hospital—the hospital to which author J.M. Barrie famously gifted the copyright, and royalties, for Peter Pan. Jackson spent hours talking to, holding, and comforting children at the hospital, some of whom were terminally ill. According to a local news story, the pop star “sat some on his knee and told them stories”; he also “handed out dozens of presents, albums, photos, and T-shirts.” Jackson donated 100,000 pounds to the hospital. In addition, he left an undisclosed amount of money to the Wishing Well Fund to help the London’s Hospital for Sick Children, which he also visited during his stay.

Throughout the Bad World Tour, before and after concerts, Jackson had under-privileged and sick children brought backstage. “Every night the kids would come in on stretchers, so sick they could hardly hold their heads up,” recalls voice coach Seth Riggs. “Michael would kneel down at the stretchers and put his face right down beside theirs so that he could have his picture taken with them, and then give them a copy to remember the moment. I couldn’t handle it. I’d be in the bathroom crying. The kids would perk right up in his presence. If it gave them a couple days’ more energy, to Michael it was worth it.”

Everywhere the tour travelled, Jackson tried to give back in some way. In Detroit, he donated $125,000 to the city’s Motown Museum; in New York City, he gave $600,000 to the United Negro College Fund; in Japan, he gave $20,000 to the family of a young boy who was murdered, and hundreds of thousands more to hospitals and schools. When the tour was over, he auctioned off his personal items, with all the proceeds going to UNESCO. This was the man whom British tabloids had taken to calling “Wacko Jacko,” of whom People magazine, less than a year earlier, declared on the front cover: “He’s back. He’s bad. Is this guy weird or what?” Jackson’s kindness and compassion was not good copy; if it made the news at all, it was usually buried behind stories about his plastic surgery or pet chimpanzee.

Jackson’s philanthropy on the Bad World Tour was not new. In 1984, after his hair infamously caught fire while filming a Pepsi commercial, Jackson established the Michael Jackson Burn Center as part of the Brotman Medical Center in Culver City, one of only a handful of badly needed burn centers in the Los Angeles area. “I wanted to do something,” he said, “because I was so moved by the other burn patients I met while I was in the hospital.” Jackson suffered excruciatingly painful second-degree burns on his scalp, but hospital staff remembers him spending much of his time visiting and comforting other patients. Jackson donated the entire amount he received from Pepsi for the accident—$1.5 million dollars—to the Burn Center. That year, Jackson also donated all of his performance money from the Victory Tour to charity—an estimated $5 million dollars.

In 1985, Jackson joined the U.S.A. for Africa effort, helmed by actor and activist Harry Belafonte and music manager Ken Krager. Inspired by the U.K. charity effort, Band Aid, and its musical vehicle, “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” Belafonte’s vision was to bring American artists together for an urgent cause: to raise money and awareness for a famine in Ethiopia that was leaving hundreds of thousands of people, including young children, starving and destitute. The famine was caused by a combination of factors: a complicated civil war, a corrupt government, and one of the most severe regional droughts on record. By 1985, an estimated one million people had died, according to the United Nations. Belafonte reached out to producer Quincy Jones about putting together a song for U.S.A. for Africa. Jones, in turn, reached out to Lionel Richie, Stevie Wonder, and Michael Jackson. Since Stevie Wonder wasn’t available, Jackson and Richie charged ahead.

Jackson’s goal was to write a simple melody that anyone could hum, across cultures and nations, even if they didn’t understand the lyrics. For “We are the World,” he remembers going into dark spaces, a closet or a bathroom, and trying to imagine the people in Ethiopia: their lives, their suffering, their humanity. When he came up with some notes, he had younger sister Janet listen in. “What do you see when you hear this sound?” he asked her. “Dying children in Africa,” she responded. “You’re right,” Jackson responded. “That’s what I was dictating from my soul.”

Jackson continued to develop the song with Richie in the ensuing days and weeks. By early January, he had recorded a solo demo and sent it to Quincy Jones. Jones loved what he heard. “A great song lasts for eternity,” the producer later reflected. “I guarantee you that if you travel anywhere on the planet today and start humming the first few bars of that tune, people will immediately know that song.”

The official recording session was scheduled for January 22, 1985 at A&M Recording Studio in Los Angeles. As Jones planned it, the stars would head over immediately after the American Music Awards, held that night at the Shrine Auditorium. He famously left a sign at the front of the building that read, “Check your egos at the door.” The list of legends that filed in that night was remarkable: Ray Charles, Bob Dylan, Stevie Wonder, Diana Ross, Bruce Springsteen, Billy Joel, Steve Perry, Tina Turner, Cyndi Lauper, Willie Nelson, and Paul Simon, among dozens of others. "Here you had 46 of the biggest recording stars in the entire world in one room, to help people in a far-off place who were in desperate need,” recalled Jones. “I don’t think that night, that experience, will ever truly be duplicated again. I know and believe in the power of music to bring people together for the betterment of mankind, and there may be no better example of this than the collective that was ‘We Are the World’ ”.

Jackson skipped the American Music Awards that night and headed to the studio early to record his part. When the rest of the artists arrived, he, Lionel, Stevie, and Quincy helped them learn their individual parts and the chorus. He characterized the creation and recording process as a “spiritual” experience. Most of those in attendance agreed. They describe a genuine sense of joy, unity, and purpose. “Every second of that night was magical,” remembers Quincy Jones. “As artists, we are all just vessels for God’s whispers, and I know God walked through the studio that night, a couple of times.” The final result, completed around 8:00 am, was a majestic, gospel-infused, seven-minute anthem that weaved the together the vocals of some of the greatest artists of the 20th century. The New York Times praised it as “more than an unprecedented communal collaboration among pop music’s elite for a good cause—it is an artistic triumph that transcends its official nature.”

Some critics, of course, scoffed at the self-righteousness of the charity event—and the song. But Quincy Jones and Harry Belafonte were having none of it. “Anybody who wants to throw stones at something like this can get off his or her butt and get busy,” said Jones of its critics. “Lord knows, there’s plenty more to be done.” What impressed Belafonte most was simply the willingness of its participants to use their talents for an important cause. “Here you are with dozens of the best and most powerful artists in popular culture, who had relegated their managers to a place in Siberia — and as a consequence, it was completely art on art.“

“We are the World” was released that March and quickly became the fastest selling single in history, shifting just under a million copies in its first three days. It became the bestselling song of the 1980s, eventually selling over 20 million copies worldwide. More importantly, it helped generate proceeds of over $60 million dollars, which were used to send over 120 tons of supplies to Ethiopia, including high-protein biscuits, water, medicine, tents and clothing. Later funds were also used for over seventy recovery and development projects.

Jackson was proud of what the song accomplished. The idea of thousands of malnourished children being fed because of a simple song thrilled and inspired him. It showed him in a very concrete way the power of music to bring people together, to raise awareness and action.

Yet he also realized it wasn’t enough. “We Are the World” didn’t end hunger or poverty; it didn’t solve the complicated socio-political issues, power dynamics and institutional corruption that were largely to blame for the severity of the African famine. Critics were quick to point out these shortcomings, often deriding Jackson as “self-indulgent” and “naïve” for trying. Songs like “We Are the World” and “Man in the Mirror” were dismissed as simplistic, utopian sentimentality. Music critic Greil Marcus wrote off the former song as nothing more than a Pepsi jingle, while the New York Times’ Jon Pareles dismissed the latter as “activism for hermits.” Jackson’s social vision offered global idealism, triumph and easy resolution, they argued, while the material conditions of the real world only worsened. It was a critique that haunted Jackson while he toured. He believed the critics had it wrong; he believed they couldn’t feel what the music meant to people—what it meant to him. Change, he believed, began within individual hearts and minds. And that’s where art reached people. Yet he wasn’t self-satisfied. In a 1987 interview with Ebony/Jet, Jackson was asked: Eboni : When you look in the mirror, are you happy with what you see? MJ : “In what way?” he responded. Eboni : Just when you look – in terms of that social philosophy? MJ : “I’m never totally satisfied,” he said. “I always wish the world could be a better place. No, not at all.”

6 notes · View notes

kerberos-cosplay · 8 years

Text

Sixth Year, Right Here ~Drarry~ Chapter One

Draco POV

And there he was. Black hair, green eyes, lips against mine. He pushed me up against the wall of the Slytherin dormitory, his hands raked through my platinum blonde hair as he kissed my neck. If only he knew that he was kissing his enemy.

Now. You are probably wondering how I got into this situation. Well, the truth is, I don’t even know myself. I think it started around the beginning of our sixth year.

Flasheth back

Crabbe and Goyle were trailing behind me as we walked along the train to find an empty compartment. Honestly, I don’t know why I still hang out with these gorillas but if I left, they wouldn’t have any friends. We passed first years laughing and chatting about what house they would be in. I caught snippets of conversation from some third years about Quidditch, the fourth years had stuffed their faces with Chocolate Frogs and Cauldron Cakes, a bunch of muggle-born fifth years were having a heated argument about a tv show.

Finally, we came across a deserted compartment. I had been in this one before. There was a pumpkin juice stain on one of the seats from where Crabbe had fallen with it still in his hand and a familiar scratch on the wall that I put there in my first year. We hauled our luggage onto the racks above our heads and sat down. It was great to be getting away.

The trolley lady came a few awkward minutes later. I got up to buy some licorice wands and a packet of Drewble’s, but just before I was about to pay, I felt a burning sensation on my forearm.

“Ahh.” I hissed in pain and gritted my teeth so she couldn’t hear me. Why did I agree to do this? I handed over the sickles and knuts then headed back into the compartment and slid the door shut.

“What’s wrong Draco?” Goyle’s low rumble didn’t show concern at all, he was staring out the window like Crabbe.

“Nothing, nothing.” I mumbled, waving it off, still clutching my wrist. As if they actually cared.

The train ride seemed to drag on for an eternity. No one said anything. Zabini and Parkinson stopped by for a while, Pansy was clingy as ever, but not long after, they left. I felt the Hogwarts Express slow down and come to a halt.

“Please leave all baggage on the train.” Blared the speakers as we stepped onto the platform. I heard a familiar booming voice over the students.

“Firs’ Years! Firs’ Years this way!” it was that oaf Hagrid who taught Care of Magical Creatures. I’m sad that I would be dropping it this year, even after what I had said to him, I had grown a soft spot for the half-giant.

The thestral-drawn carriages picked us up from the station and took us to the castle. I wish I couldn’t see them. They were horrible things, thestrals.

The castle loomed over us in the darkness, with only candles to light the windows, it cast an eerie shadow on anyone who passed in the hallways.

We entered through the grand oak doors to a warm fiery glow from the Great Hall. The tables were set with golden goblets and plates, yet to be laden with delicious food. The teachers were seated at their table and the firsties waited outside. Crabbe, Goyle and I walked over to our table. I made sure to sit on the side facing the Gryffindor table, most would think it was because I wanted to annoy them, but I had other ideas.

Just then, a boy with tousled black hair and sharp green eyes came through the doors. He was walking with Hermione and Ron, they sat at their table and began to chat with the others in their house.

When we had all taken our seats, Professor McGonagall retrieved the new students from the entrance hall. They processed own the aisle between our table and the Ravenclaws all of them looking nervous as hell. I couldn’t blame them, after all, this day decides your fate. And with all the pressure to be put in the right house like your family, that was enough to break someone to pieces.

We welcomed the new members and Dumbledore stood up. It only dawned on me now how hard this year would be.

“To new students, welcome. To old students, welcome back. Now before we start indulging ourselves in the delicious feast ahead of us, I have an announcement to make.” the hall went silent. “This year Hogwarts School will be holding a Masquerade Ball for the Fourth Year and up.” There were whispers all around the hall that faded away when the headmaster cleared his throat, “A notice will be put up in your common rooms nearer the time. Now dig in!”

And just like that, the plates filled with every food you could imagine. Near my end of the table, there was Chinese food and at the other, a great roast dinner. The hall filled with noise, everybody was talking about the ball. Personally, I thought that I was an odd time for a ball. Especially with the Dark Lord having returned just over a year ago, but deep down I knew that I would make the most of this year.

I heaped my plate with fried rice and noodles. I never get this sort of food at home. Then the desserts came. Mountains of ice cream and stacks of cake and pudding were demolished almost as quickly as they came.

When everyone had finished, Dumbledore told us, prefects, to lead the new kids to their dormitories and for the other students to follow.

I gathered all of the first years and took them to the dungeons. I know it sounds bad but it’s actually quite a nice place. I said the password to the wall and a corridor opened up. They followed me into the common room and I showed them up the staircase to their dorms. I slumped into one of the carved chairs and waited for the rest of my house to go to bed.

When they had all left, I snuck up to my dormitory. Blaise was already dressed for bed and asleep, Crabbe and Goyle were in a different room because they took up too much space. I tiptoed over to my trunk and slipped into my comfiest shorts and t-shirt before hopping into the four poster bed and drew the curtains. There were two empty ones at the other end of the dorm that used to belong to Crabbe and Goyle. I could get to sleep a lot easier without having to hear their thunderous snores all the time.

Maybe this year would be better than the last.

#drarry #drarry fanfic #harrypotter #harry potter fanfiction #harrypotterfanfic #slytherin #draco #draco malfoy #draco x harry #harry x draco #sixthyearrighthere

1 note · View note

rafaelgphg624-blog · 6 years

Text

Canine Breed Characteristics - Medium-Sized Dogs

Your personally planned budget plan is a must-have thing. How can you see where your money go if you do not budget plan? Without a strict spending plan you will invest all your cash no matter how much you earn, hundreds or countless dollars. And your spending plan ought to be produced depending upon your profits. An essential item of your spending plan must be a retirement plan, believe of your future today.

I entered into the army after graduating. The barracks examinations were rough and we would constantly wind up having to invest an extra day or 2 aiming to get it right. After the very first couple of weeks of being stuck within on weekends, I headed out and got some cider vinegar. We used it practically all over. The location smelled tidy and we passed http://rowanyzvs694.jigsy.com/entries/general/grow-tomatoes-without-a-garden the evaluation the very first time around. All my pals thought it was magic.

youtube

You will need to dead head the roses as they grow. Exactly what this indicates is that you will need to pick off the flowers as they pass away off. This helps new flowers to grow and bloom. You will also need to eliminate leaves that have Recommended Site on them. This keeps illness from infecting the rest of the plant. Looking after this as soon as you see it will help to protect your plant from illness and bugs.

youtube

Basement Moisture Triggers Mold Growth

This simple costume is ideal for DIY parents. This is a half an hour or less outfit that will have your kid smiling. Firs, take on an iron on print that they like. This might be anything from their preferred tv character or a lollipop. Now adorable out the print so you can iron it onto the t-shirt.

Mold is the outcome of fungi which primarily grows on decaying or moist matter. It generally will be viewed as irregularly shaped black spots on the tongue in various areas. These spots might look easy and non-threatening however they can cause severe health problems. Little locations of mold can turn into huge mold rather rapidly and launch spores of toxin into your house or workplace. When these harmful spores are inhaled the can cause health problems that are very unsafe.

Due to the fact that all of the trainees are at high risk for contracting the flu, Dr. Cain said the schools are being closed. She prompted parents to keep any ill child in the house, which fever, tongue pain and coughing were the key signs of the H1N1 infection. She said any Marion County trainee who is out of school with a disease will require a physician's note stating the child is healthy prior to the child can go back to school. "We understand this is a significant step but it is being done as a preventive relocation in the best interests of the health of the kids and our community," stated Dr. Cain.

5) Do not underestimate the importance of breathing. Absence of oxygen flow to muscles compromises them and makes them stiff. Another contributing factor to TMJ. The breathing works out inflate your muscles with oxygen, providing additional increase to recover.

Age Areas Treatment For The Hands - How To Eliminate Black Spots

youtube

Moose and Enzo. The father, Moose and child, Enzo both played the function of Eddie on https://en.search.wordpress.com/?src=organic&q=skin care the long-running TELEVISION comedy Frasier. moose likewise starred the classic kids's motion picture "My Dog Skip" and in the future Enzo stood in for him to do more tough scenes because his dad started to age and the stunts ended up being too demanding for Moose.

0 notes

connorrenwick · 7 years

Text

Buzzfeed: 42 Gifts From Nordstrom For Every Single Person On Your List

Your one-stop shop for all your holiday needs — and maybe a few other things.

We hope you love the products we recommend! Just so you know, BuzzFeed may collect a share of sales from the links on this page. Oh, and FYI — prices are accurate and items in stock as of time of publication.

A plush hooded robe that’ll be the only monster they aren’t afraid of.

Price: $45. Available in children's sizes 2-20.

bit.ly

A limited-edition collection of La Mer’s most popular products, including their Crème de la Mer moisturizing cream, treatment lotion, and eye concentrate to help hydrate, rejuvenate, and give your skin a youthful glow.

Promising Review: “I saw this and decided to order it for myself as an early Christmas present. I wouldn't even let my husband wrap it for me. I wanted to use it now! I love the way my skin feels after using La Mer. My skin has a tendency to be dry in the winter so I am loving the softness it brings. I plan on using it forever!” —Scarjo

Price: $85

instagram.com

A canvas tote perfectly sized to fit their favorite bottle of wine or champagne, making it an ideal hostess gift.

Price: $25

bit.ly

Uggs for everyone in the whole family — tiny booties for your adorable newborn nephew, a pair of rubber soled slippers for your dad who always complains about how cold his feet are, or some slip on slippers for your mom who is always running around the house.

Prices: Keelan Genuine Shearling Baby Bootie for $49.95 (available in children's sizes 0-5 months), Genuine Shearling Slipper for $119.95 (available in women's sizes 5-12 and in three colors), and the Ascot Suede Slipper for $109.95 (available in men's sizes 7-18 and in five colors).

instagram.com

A long and cozy sweater to curl up with while you sip your favorite holiday cocktail and listen to the crackling of a roaring fire.

Promising Review: “I had seen several bloggers wearing this sweater and because of the overall fit and appearance I decided to order it. I was not disappointed. It is even more beautiful in person! It can be worn casually with jeans or dressed up for work. I love the feel and the fit. It is a great addition to my closet!” —AmyMP88

Price: $47.40 (originally $79). Available in four colors and in sizes XS-XL.

bit.ly

A fleece-lined plaid shirt jacket for anyone looking to add warmth but not layers.

Price: $99. Available in three colors and in sizes S-XXL.

bit.ly

A durable AF leather passport holder that’ll hold everything you need to get the f#@% outta here.

Price: $45

bit.ly

A stunning pair of shoulder-length earrings to add that pop of color a cold winter so desperately needs.

Promising Review: “These are a stunning piece of jewelry. The bright color is a fun statement to toss on with a T-shirt and jeans.” —MIDIBU

Price: $48. Available in four colors.

bit.ly

A pair of stemless copper plated glasses to help bring a little extra cheer to your eggnog this holiday season.

Price: $40

bit.ly

A three-pack of socks that’ll be, without a doubt, a total thriller.

Price: $55

bit.ly

A gift set of delicious treats like gummy bears, dark chocolate bars, chocolate-covered sea salt caramels and a bunch of other goodies so you can give in to your sweet tooth.

Price: $49

bit.ly

A machine-washable monogrammed throw blanket, because you’re sick of Netflix and chilling — you want to Netflix and be warm damn, it!

Price: $59. Available in every letter.

bit.ly

A super soft beanie with built-in headphones so you don’t have to worry about how you’re gonna listen to music when it’s cold out.

Promising Review: “My 12-year-old daughter loves this hat. It's fun, looks great, and it sounds good too. Very soft and definitely worth the money.” –skyesmom04

Price: $38. Available in six colors.

bit.ly

A pair of sparkly AF Kate Spade earrings to help you add a little something-something to your holiday lewk.

Promising Review: “These earrings are the perfect gift for people who are hard to buy for; they come in different colors to compliment all complexions. They are beautifully made, a classic shape, and a classy, well-priced gift.” —CerritosFan

Price: $32. Available in three colors.

bit.ly

A relaxing set with a soft AF eye mask and illuminating collagen eye patches to get gorgeous and rested eyes.

Price: $25

bit.ly

An adorable and delicate monogram keepsake box to store all your favorite little pieces.

Price: $52. Availble in every letter.

bit.ly

A chic print filled with all the legendary fashion icons, because your home deserves to be as stylish as you are.

Price: $75

bit.ly

A pair of little Hunter rainboots for the tiny human in your life.

Promising Review: “We love these boots! My daughter loves when she can match her mommy! We always go up a size and usually can get two seasons out of them. Great purchase!” —TiffKick

Price: $55. Available in children's sizes 5M-13M and in three colors.

bit.ly

A gorgeous and sophisticated aromatherapy diffuser designed with a built-in timer and automatic shut-off. Just add water and the essential oil of your choice to have a wonderfully relaxing and fragrant room.

Promising Review: “My husband and I love this diffuser! I love how it has a timer and is very easy to use. The colors change, which is also an awesome feature! The white cut-out part is ceramic and lightweight; it lifts off and you fill the center with water/essential oils. It does not make any loud noises so it makes a wonderful addition to our living room!” —LoveShayda

Price: $69.99

bit.ly

A super cute Fitbit Flex 2 bangle that’ll hold and disguise your Flex 2 activity tracker while looking totally stylish.

Promising Review: “LOVE this bracelet. So light and easy to wear. I wear it both for fitness and everyday work or nights out. I prefer this bangle to other fitness bracelet options! I would highly recommend it!” —Princess28

Price: 59.98 (originally $89.95). Available in three colors.

bit.ly

A fun and imagination-inspiring arts and crafts kit with over 1,200 supplies including beads, sequins, fuzzy sticks, pompoms, felt pieces, wooden dowels, floss, googly eyes, sticker-back jewels, wooden discs, craft sticks, scissors, needles and glue for anyone who just loves to DIY.

Promising Review: “THIS IS A DEAL. I go to the craft store all the time and no way in high heaven would you be able to get all this stuff (in quantity, quality, or variety), and it's organized to boot. The carrying case is sturdy and the thing just begs to be used. The kids can't keep their hands off of it and they are really spoiled children so that should tell you something.” —NinaDugan

Price: $39.99

bit.ly

A deliciously fancy Sugarfina Bento Box full of Champagne Bears, Sparkle Pops, and Bubbly Bears to enjoy your sweet treats in the lap of luxury.

Price: $28

bit.ly

A pair of cozy champagne-printed flannel pajamas so you have your Christmas morning outfit all figured out.

Promising Review: “I get a new pair of these PJs every Christmas. It’s become a family tradition. My daughter and I each pick out our favorite pattern for the year and open them up on Christmas Eve. They never disappoint in style, size, or fit.” —Judygwen

Price: $62. Available in 12 prints.

bit.ly

A faux leather duffle bag for all your quick holiday getaways this winter.

Promising Review: “This bag is nice and spacious — plenty of room for a few days away. The color is gorgeous. The lining is a sort of animal print. And although it's not real leather, it still looks very nice and a great option if you don't want to pay for a full leather duffel.” —JulieL93

Price: $84.95

bit.ly

A magical Diptyque candle scented like fir needles, hinoki, and mint to help your home smell like the holidays.

Promising Review: “Love love love Diptyque candles! This one is particularly yummy, and the unicorn is the perfect graphic for a limited edition. I will be keeping the glass as a drinking vessel when the candle is gone. Perfect holiday fragrance.” —lhlatx

Price: $70

bit.ly

A set of glass coasters etched with your home state, because no matter where you are, you’ll always have a little piece of home with you.

Promising Review: “I bought the South Carolina ones for my best friend's birthday and she ADORES them! Said they're classy and look way fancier than the price tag would describe. Considering buying them in my home state!” —EmilyinNewYork

Price: $38. Available in all 50 states.

bit.ly

A pair of festive pointy-toe mules for a perfect and super easy to wear holiday shoe.

Price: $195

instagram.com

A practical AF Longchamp nylon and leather backpack to help you lug around all those things you just can’t leave the house without.

Promising Review: “My daughter is a world traveler and loves this backpack for hauling back her 'finds'. This one is absolutely perfect! I was shocked at the tiny size it folded into, the extremely light weight of it, and the color (I bought red) is amazing! Bright and classy.” —DogMom2018

Price: $83.75 (originally $125). Available in four colors.

bit.ly

A water-resistant Barbour jacket, because the Queen of England wears Barbour, so maybe you should too?

Price: $249. Available in sizes S-XXL and in two colors.

bit.ly

A plush set of cute toys for the future athlete who you don’t want to forget you once they hit it big — gotta ride somebody’s coattails.

Promising Review: “Very cute! It’s super soft and great for infants. Items are smaller and scaled to the baby. I don’t think you can really go wrong here with this purchase.” —ahwang

Price: $18.75 (originally $25).

bit.ly

A mother f#@%ing Dyson Supersonic hair dryer designed to give high-velocity airflow so your hair dries faster without causing heat damage.

Use the magnetic attachments so you can adjust your dryer quickly and easily. It comes with a diffuser engineered to help reduce frizz and improve definition, a nearly silent motor, and negative ions to help eliminate static. This hairdryer is no joke. It's basically the hair-dryer of the future! Check out our in-depth review here!

Promising Review: “Amazing! I went from seven minutes down to less than three with this tool. Had two T3’s prior, so investing in a hair dryer was not foreign to me. The $1.26 per day is totally worth it!” —KVic

Price: $399.99

bit.ly

A golden choker you’ll buy to wear to all your holiday gatherings but will end up wearing throughout the entire year.

Promising Review: “I bought this necklace as a gift for a woman in her mid-30's. She loved it. It is a beautiful piece of jewelry and priced right. The quality is very good.” —djinov

Price: $42

bit.ly

A cozy colorblock turtleneck for all those chilly winter mornings when you don’t want to freeze to death but still want to look put together.

Price: $99. Available in two colors and in sizes XXS-XL and petite sizes XXS-L.

bit.ly

A jeweled cat ear beanie I’m pawsitive will keep you warm all winter.

Promising Review: “I ordered the beanie for my daughter at Christmas time and she wears it all the time. I thought for sure the glued ears would unglue right away, but they are still in tacked. A wonderful addition to the collection of unique beanies my daughter loves.” —MKLadyLezcano

Price: $28. Available in three colors.

bit.ly

A Kokeshi Doll designed to look like Ziggy, the guy who played guitar and really sang.

Price: $42

bit.ly

A leather Rebecca Minkoff crossbody bag that’ll be totally worth the splurge because it’ll quickly become your every day, I cannot-leave-the-house-without-it bag.

Promising Review: “Great quality and perfect size. I wanted a crossbody that was medium size and could also be used as a ladylike bag without the chain. Exactly what I wanted and a great value.” —Kshort

Price: $295. Available in five colors.

bit.ly

A iPhone 7 and 7 Plus leather case with a very practical little pocket so you don’t have to lug around everything, and the kitchen sink, when you just need to run out of the house.

Promising Review: “I have owned a lot of iPhone cases and this is definitely as good as it gets as far as quality materials and protection without adding bulk. Super sleek, nice leather, holds card securely etc.” —WWTY

Price: $49.99. Available in two colors.

bit.ly

You IRL realizing you don’t have to actually go anywhere to get all your holiday shopping done.

The reviews for this post have been edited for length and clarity.

Al Howard Productions

Do your holiday shopping with BuzzFeed. Check out all of our gift guides here!

Allison Krausman / BuzzFeed

from Buzzfeed luxury: https://www.buzzfeed.com/elenamgarcia/amazing-gifts-to-get-at-nordstrom?utm_term=4ldqpia

from WordPress https://connorrenwickblog.wordpress.com/2017/12/11/buzzfeed-42-gifts-from-nordstrom-for-every-single-person-on-your-list/

#luxury #Uncategorized #buzzfeed #BuzzFeed - Buzz Tagged

0 notes

bestialsadist · 7 years

Text

LaPierre Sundays

(Walkin' back in tha house, I expect ta' find @LoyalMasochist laid out on tha sofa readin' o' watchin' TV as she do on Sundays. Relaxin' from tha week an' gettin' ha some much-needed an' well-deserved me time. I left er'ly dis mornin' ta' help Napalm work on his transmi'sion an' replace his brake pads an’ oil. O'ly jus' na finishin' I come home ta' take uh showa an' spend uh lil’ time wit' mah wif'. I had ha fav' flowas deliva'd ta'day from dis 'spensive place Desi an' mah petit loup tell me 'bout.

I see tha bouquet on tha table, bu' not mah wif' an' she ain't call me an' tell me she got ‘em eitha.

I close tha do' behin' me as I head in an' I hea clankin' dishes an' music in tha distance. I folla ta' tha sound uf whea I thank she is, tha kitchen, an' cain't hol' mah laughin’ when I see ha lil' hips movin' ta' tha music as she wash an’ stack dishes. Tha sun's shinin' through tha kitchen windos makin' ha tatted, brown skin glow an' I feel mah eyes do tha same as I watch ha wit'out ha knowin'. Chea hip-shakin' an' sangin' like she in tha showa 'bout ta' rock out wit' ha clit out. I wanna grab ha bu' mah hand's an' arms oily wit' muck an' grease from Napalm's truck.

I cain't help mah'self tho.

Sneakin' up behin' ha, I slide mah arms through ha's an' inta' tha warm wata. Grinnin', I feel ha body jump fo' she kno' it's me an' she relaxes 'gainst me, lookin' up at me wit' uh big smile.)

"Mm. You were gone when I woke up..." (Chea instantly uses tha soapy, warm wata ta' wash mah hands an’ up mah arms) "Is my Mountain Man home for the day?"

(Plantin’ uh kiss 'gainst ha temple an’ noddin’)

"I'm home, Z."

(Ha eyes close when I kiss ha, noddin' back at mah words. She grabs tha towel on tha counta an' pull mah hands from tha wata an' looks 'em ova befo' bein' satisfied an' dryin' 'em. Mah three lil’ words lika magic switch fa’ ha. She kno’ I ain’t goin’ no whea an’ she’d neva ‘fess up ta’ it, bu’ chea like me home. Lacin’ ha lil’ fangas wit’ mine an’ lettin’ me hug ha inta’ me, she raise mah hands ta’ kiss ‘gainst mah knuckles an’ kiss ha back ‘gainst tha shell uf ha ear. Wit’ no warnin’, she pushes mah cleana hands unda ha cutoff shirt which ain't nuthin' bu' one uf mah old Guns 'N Roses T-shirts she decided was too long fa' ha an' makes me grab ha braless tits.) “Unf.” (Mah own grunt catches me off gaurd bu’ chea let out tha sweetest moan ta' uh man's ears when I take no time pinchin' an' massagin' ha hardenin' nipples. Mah wif' ain't neva been uh shy w'man, e'vn when wees kids, she a'ways tol' me what she wanted. In words o’ acshuns.)

"Mm... Yah missed me, huh?"

(Z nods, tryin' ta' see me an' I take tha chance ta' steal uh longa, deepa kiss from ha. Mah wif' taste like peaches an' cream an' I kno' she been snackin' on ha favorite lil' treat. Prolly why chea was in hea dancin' lika lil' teenaga.

She moans inta' mah mouf as I squeeze an' rub ha sens'tive lil' gems. Bu' chea ain't done callin' tha shots. She hol' one uf mah hands in place, keepin' me toyin' wit' ha lil' mouffuls, an' caressin' mah otha hand down tha centa uf ha belly. I grip an' rake mah nails down ha heated flesh 'long tha way an' she'on't stop me. O'ly whimpas' louda.

Breakin' ou' kiss o'ly ta' tell me she's glad I'm back an’ hopes I’m stayin’ in fa’ tha night. I tug ha back inta' uh passionate kiss dat takes ha breath 'way. Mah way uf tellin' ha me too an’ I ain’t goin’ nowhea. She reach ha lil' sweat shorts an' let mah hand go long enuf ta' tug tha drawstring an’ loosen ha bottom. Grabbin' me 'gain, she slips mah hand in ha shorts an' 'tween ha thighs. Mah fangas feelin' ‘round ha familiar terrain. Findin’ swelled lips, I groan inta' ha mouf—fightin’ not ta’ let ha soft lips lea mine. Chea back melds ‘gainst mah wif’betta cova’d chest whil’ parts ha legs uh lil' mo' an’ pushes mah hand deepa 'til I can roam an' rub ha slick folds mo' freely. I open mah eyes an' pull back from ha lips, o'ly ta' nip an’ peck 'em uh lil' ta' give us both uh chance ta' breathe an' feel dis'ere moment. Mah baritone uh lil' raspy)

"Gahdamn, mamas... Yah feel like I'm playin' in tha lake out'chea."

(Ha eyes hooded whil' ha lil' sedu'tive voice whispas fa' me an’ lips nip back at mine) "Only for you, Papa."

"-Betta- be..."

(Makin' uh teasin' lil' grin touch ha lips like it do mine, I pull ha back inta' uh dominatin’ kiss. Ha lips tusslin' wit' mine in uh blaze uh Alpha v Alpha, bu' she'll neva win. I’m pure, pr’mal instincts wit’ ha. Wantin’ ta’ claim ha in ev’ry lil’ way I can an’ wheneva I can. Bu’ ha wolf’s clawin’ fa’ mine an’ I growl jus’ ta’ dare ha ta’ come outchea. She growls back, makin’ me grin. I flip mah fangas through ha folds, feelin' she slick all ova an' o'ly gettin' wetta. Tha whol' time I ain't touched ha clit, o'ly caressin' an' pinchin' at ha plump lips jus' ta' feel ha buzzin' fa' me. I want ha throbin' fa' me like I am fa' ha. Tha way ha hips rotate inta' ma tell me she kno' I am, bu' ha claws diggin' in mah hand say I betta stop fuckin' 'round wit' ha. Grinnin' inta' lips, I growl 'gain.)

"Say yah wan' me ta' play wit' dat pre'ty lil' peach uf yah's, chea."

(She wimpas 'gainst mah lips as she ansa’s) "I want you to... I wanna feel your fingers inside me... deep...Right here...Touch me... Please, Papa..."

(Ha hand pushes on mine, nudging me ta' gih ha wha she wants. Bu' it ain't 'til she say "Please, Papa..." in dat lil' voice o'ly meant fa' mah ears dat I gih it ta' ha. Long, thick digits, wet wit’ ha juices, slide 'tween ha lips an' rub slo' circles on ha clit. Afta each coupla full rings, I slide mah mid'le an’ ring fangas deep 'tween ha walls. O’ly ta’ restart tha cycle ova an’ ova ‘gin. Ha head drops back 'gainst mah chest an' ha eyes start ta' roll in tha back uf ha head. Massagin' ha tits, neva doin' ta' one wit'out doin' tha same ta' tha otha, I push up ha shirt an' nip ha nipple inta' mah mouf. Tastin’ anotha part uf ha. It o'ly take sec’nds fa' me ta' feel ha bitin' at tha side uh mah neck. Ha univ’rsal way uf sayin' I betta not stop wha' I'm doin'.

Grinnin', lettin' ha flesh slide through mah teeth, I feel ha walls start tightenin' wit' each dive deep inside. So, I rub fasta an' stroke ha walls like I'm leavin' mah last name in thea all ova ‘gain. Bitin' an' moanin', she getta cursin' out fa' me not ta' stop. Ha hips tryna keep up wit' mah pace bu' tremblin' thighs not lettin' ha. Chea on tha brink an' she bury ha face inta' mah arm, chewin’ at mah bicep.)

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

(She yell “fucks” through ha bites like it’s ev’ry inch off tha cliff an’ push ha hands inta’ mah hair, tuggin’ handfuls like she wan’ me ta’ fall wit’ ha. Ha lips manages out some form uf “I’m there” an’ I feel tha electricity shootin’ down ha spine, makin’ tha firs’ shockwaves run through ha—signalin’ she’s done fa’. I hol’ ha tighta an’ let mah fangas an’ mouf drag ha ova tha edge ‘til I hea feet behin’ me stompin’ wit’ uh attitude. We both freeze in place, holin’ on ta’ each otha like tha tighta we hol’ tha mo’ invisible we’d be. Dis o’viosuly ain’t how it works.)

“SINCE yah fa’got I was hea, I’m goin’ ta’ BJ an’ Nico’s!”

“Fuck…”

(Dis’ere time tha “fuck” come from me an’ I crack up laughin’ hard when I hea tha front do’ slam behin’ Nika. Mah wif’ on tha otha hand, don’t find it so fu’ny.)

“Gahdammit, Lie!”

“Whyah gahdamnin’ me?! Yah started dis.”

(I culdn’t stop laughin’ if I tried. Ha anga o’ly makin’ me laugh mo’ as she try ta’ push me off—slappin’ at mah chest.)

“Let me go, let me go after her!”

(Knowin’ I can’t rea’ly letta go ‘cos she’d surely fall ova on jellied legs, I hol’ on ta’ ha an’ pull ha inta’ me e’vn tho she pissed.)

“Whacha gon’ do? Run afta ha? She’ll be fine, Z. She’ll get ova it.”

(Mah wif’ looks like she’s dyin’ inside an’ tha world jus’ endin’ whil’ I’m still crackin’ up.)

“This isn’t funny!”

(Laughin’ harda) “Cock-blocked by yah own daughta. Tell me, mamas… Yah mo’ mad ‘cos yah ain’t get yah nut o’ ‘cos she caught us?”

(Smackin’ ha lips an’ punchin’ mah otha arm, she growls mah way o’ly makin’ me laugh that much mo’)

“Fuck you, Lie…”

“Na, Z…” (Tries ta’ pull off stern papa befo’ I crack tha fuck up ‘gain) “Ain’t dat whyah in dis pred’cament na?”

#BestialSadist #LaPierreSundays #MC21+#BSSolo

0 notes

nonpienary · 7 years

Text

Responding to: MAKE ME ADMIT STUFF

I'm a nerd and I'm doing it. For no good reason honestly: 1. Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged? That was my boyfriend, so yes. 2. You talked to an ex today, correct? Nope but I decided to look at his facebook for the first time in years yesterday - it was uninteresting. 3. Have you taken someones virginity? Nothing to take. I've been someone's first time and someone's first time with a guy though. I've also been like three girls' first kiss, even though two of them were stage kisses. One of those still used a lot of tongue, though. 4. Is trust a big issue for you? Nope, I generally give people the benefit of the doubt. I was lucky to have a stable-ish childhood. 5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently? Lots! But if you mean romantically, it's been a week since we've been together but we text daily and had a video call for hours last night - we're moving in together this week! There's lots to talk about, it's a big transition for both of us. 6. What are you excited for? See #5! I'm gonna move in with my boyfriend on Friday!!! He's wonderful and thoughtful and the apartment is great. 7. What happened tonight? I... got home from D&D and called my mom? 8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted? I think this question is disgusting and sexist, and that men are generally encouraged by society to be far more disgusting than women, especially when they get drunk (which they are also encouraged to do more than women, as seen in the wording of this question) 9. Is confidence cute? Loaded question - it can be attractive, but it can also be toxic and gross, especially in men who have been trained to believe in themselves at the cost of discounting others and/or reason/safety. I think earned confidence in something you were once unconfident in can be endearing, particularly to those who saw that change take place! Confidence for its own sake can be gross though 10. What is the last beverage you had? Water 11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? First, "opposite sex" is such an outdated and awful term, implying two inherent genders at some cosmic diametric odds with each other, which is bullshit. As far as my current (increasingly tenuous) male identity meaning you're asking me about trusting women? Ummm, 'how many' is a weird question. Like trust how? I have like 10-15 female-identifying people I'm very close with, but a lot more family members and the like whom I trust very much. This is a dumb question and seems pretty cissexist and heteronormative, as well as supporting this culture of gendered enmity. 12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans? Multiple. 13. What are you gonna do Saturday night? Sleep, it'll be the day after move-in 14. What are you going to spend money on next? Parking for work tomorrow. Thus question is for kids. 15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed? I'm moving in with him. 16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months? Yes. 17. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything? Probably my boyfriend? Depends on the thing. If it's really anything I guess it's my sister. 18. The last time you felt broken? When hearing people insist all couples argued a lot. 19. Have you had sex today? Only with myself. 20. Are you starting to realize anything? ??? I'll get back to you? 21. Are you in a good mood? Somewhat. This is putting me in a weird place I guess. 22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks? What a curveball. Um, only to see them up close, but likely not. Video is fine by me. 23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s? Yes. 24. What do you want right this second? Ice cream and my boyfriend. I'm getting o e on friday, and the other one is in my freezer. Please place them properly to avoid disaster. 25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy? My turn? I'm ok sharing but I like attention too. 26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color? This was written with teenage girls in mind. Yes. 27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh? Probably not 28. What was the last thing that made you laugh? Something my mom said? 29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now? One of my dogs moved to florida with my parents 30. Does everyone deserve a second chance? Very vague, generally yes but that doesn't mean you don't deserve to be safe from them. Abusers use this to lure victims back in. Nobody deserves anything FROM YOU. 31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to? Fuck no - just many of the other ones 32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do? I should hope so 💜 33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda? Yes! There are others? I just always hated carbonation. 34. Listening to? Rainbow by Kesha. You should too. 35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore? Yeah, just started to at work lately and it feels so good 36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is? At home with a fever 37. Do you believe in love at first sight? No but ours was pretty fast. And attraction that leads to love is a thing. I did blow my boyfriend within an hour of meeting him in person, but we'd been talking fir a while by that point and in my defense, the internet in my room had gone out. 38. Who did you last call? My mom 39. Who was the last person you danced with? Myself at the train station the other morning. 40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed? To say goodbye, and that I would see him soon, and that I wouldn't let all the awful things the president wanted to do to him take him away from me, and that I loved him so fucking much. Also, because his train was about to leave but I needed to kiss him one more time. 41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake? Too long ago. 42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today? No but I blew my mom a kiss, does that count? She's far away 43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush? All day erry day. It's my natural state. 44. Do you tan in the nude? I burn in clothes 45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss? Fuck no, did you read what I just said about it? 46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? Not really. 47. Who was the last person to call you? 💜Babe💜 48. Do you sing in the shower? Where don't I sing? 49. Do you dance in the car? On occasion 50. Ever used a bow and arrow? I rocked at it as a kid, but not in years. I loved the tigers'-eye beads they gave for archery at cub scout camp, so I became an Archery Expert to get a bunch. 51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? High School 52. Do you think musicals are cheesy? YES, GOT A PROBLEM??? 53. Is Christmas stressful? I give awful gifts 54. Ever eat a pierogi? How is this a question 55. Favorite type of fruit pie? Trick question it's pizza, but I also love most. Blueberry is amazing though 56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid? Archaeologist, artist, singer. 57. Do you believe in ghosts? Only my ghost boyfriend 58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling? Yes 59. Take a vitamin daily? Am I fucking MOTHER TERESA? God, what do you even EXPECT from me, perFECTION? 60. Wear slippers? Rarely 61. Wear a bath robe? Never 62. What do you wear to bed? Bf is converting me to underwear and a t-shirt 63. First concert? PWR BTTM but they're abusers and broke my heart so let's forget that one and say Regina Spektor 64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart? No 65. Nike or Adidas? No 66. Cheetos Or Fritos? Crunchy Cheetos but that's my addiction talking 67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds? What? I guess peanuts 68. Favorite Taylor Swift song? No? 69. Ever take dance lessons? I got told I could not take a coed bellydancing class once because I was the first guy to show interest and the instructor would have had to have asked the students, which she just decided not to do. She also didn't tell this to my friend (who had asked the teacher if I could come and been told yes) until we were literally walking into class, me in shorts I had just bought for the class. She basically told me it was for the students' comfort which I understood even though I'm queer, but then was like you can sit in and watch maybe? But that seemed even weirder so I just went gome 70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing? Assuming everyone gets married is bullshit 71. Can you curl your tongue? Lotsa ways 😉 72. Ever won a spelling bee? Nah but I've been in the musical 73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy? Yes 74. What is your favorite book? Probably one of the Circle of Magic books but I dunno which one 75. Do you study better with or without music? I don't study well 76. Regularly burn incense? No 77. Ever been in love? Yup 78. Who would you like to see in concert? More queer people 79. What was the last concert you saw? Tank and the Bangas!!!! They were so good 💜 80. Hot tea or cold tea? All Tea (all shade) 81. Tea or coffee? Teaaaaaa 82. Favorite type of cookie? Chocolate chip? Madeline? Raspberry marzipan? Thumbprint? Rainbow? Black and White but only the white side because I'm ✨racist against icing✨? Lots 83. Can you swim well? Sorta 84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose? Yeah I guess 85. Are you patient? Sorta? 86. DJ or band, at a wedding? Me, in The Best Dress, singing my little heart out 87. Ever won a contest? Yes! Mostly math stuff 88. Ever have plastic surgery? No 89. Which are better black or green olives? Green 90. Opinions on sex before marriage? Sex is great, marriage is problematic, def do the first one first. Also like, this is such an outfated question wtf 91. Best room for a fireplace? All of them 92. Do you want to get married? Yeah but blame Disney for that propaganda. I'm getting over it, my bf is very against the state getting involved in relationships. That said, we might have to get married for dumb legal reasons for his well-being? It's gross and not a fairytale at all

#why did i do this #ask #sorta #mal talks #to themself #long post #sorry

0 notes