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guiltysecretpasttime · 3 years

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Linzin Week 2021 Day 4: Gaoling / Nobility

Note: Here is my contribution for Day 4: Gaoling / Nobility. I admit - this was a bit of a ramble, a ramble that I rather enjoyed as I tried to put into writing this plot bunny I had in mind. Hope you like it. (unedited as of posting time)

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Pairing: Lin/Tenzin

Rating: Teen

One shot, AU

You may also read this in AO3.

Lin scrabbled around the room, lifting objects and crouching under furniture. Apparently, searching for clothes appeared to be challenging if they were strewn haphazardly the night before.

Aha.

She crawled partially under the bed, taking care not to stay on the floor too long, to grab her shorts. Her top and underwear, meanwhile, she snatched from behind the lounge seat.

As she put on her underwear, she mused at how the past days went -her five days of independence in Ember Island.

It definitely was lovely, a nice escape from reality and the pressures of her life. She knew she had to make the most of it. It would not be long before the lackeys of her grandparents would find her.

Lin believed herself stealthy and crafty enough to escape Beifong manor undetected. She was proud to say that she did all that and managed to arrive at Ember Island without bribing anyone. She liked to think that she would have made a good criminal or detective if she were not born into the House of Beifong.

Poor Suyin. Her grandfather was sure to tighten security at home now. There was no way her younger sister would manage to have the same ‘liberties’ she had.

Lin snorted as she tied her hair up.

Not like there was a lot of freedom to begin with.

A groan came from the figure on the bed.

Lin hurried dressing up. It simply would not do to have to have that morning after conversation.

The man continued to slumber on, turning to his side, mouth open with a bit of drool at the corner of his lip.

She smiled at the view while she stuffed her other belongings into her satchel.

As much as she wanted for a repeat of the night before (and earlier that morning) and to run her fingers through his soft brown hair, the earthbender knew that her self-control would be tested. She was bound to end up not leaving at all. And that, she sighed at the memory of the pale wiry arms that were wrapped around her, would be catastrophic. There would have been no way for her to hide her identity if her family descends upon Ember Island.

After one final look, Lin Beifong slipped out of the hostel room of her technically three-night stand. She fled to the inn on the other side of the island to prepare for her trip back home.

It was unlike her to be reckless. But damn Agni, did she need this.

But, of course, her life being her life, her luck being her luck, little did she know that this act of rebelliousness would have its repercussions.

---

Tenzin bit his cheek to stop from furiously answering back. They were at the last leg of their diplomatic tour.

Tour.

He scoffed.

More like the Search.

As in the Search for a bride.

Correction – the Search for His Bride.

It was quite tedious, honestly. They have been at it for more than a year now. His father descended from the Air Nomads but this was amount of time on the road was ridiculous.

He did not mind travelling, honestly. He enjoyed it. The feel of the wind while using his glider or the sight of the clouds while on Oogi… In fact, the misguided yet hopeful part of him saw to it that he travelled at least monthly to Ember Island, in a bid to recreate the blissful memories of a past vacation (or rather, in a bid to try and meet the earthbender again, though he failed at spotting her every time).

On the other hand, travelling with his parents meant having a retinue composed of his father’s main advisory council and security. It was fine – for the most part. Accompanying his father during his diplomatic visits around the world was unique, educational and inspiring.

What he hated was that the advisors tended to barge in at all times of the day, leaving no respite for the family when they were on the road.

Right now, for example, Abbot Yuji was going on about the status of the Northern Air Temple.

His father is the Avatar and the one of two of the last airbenders so it was expected that this was well within the territory.

What was grating was how Abbot Yuji started to describe the temple and the lovely female air acolytes that populated it.

Having an acolyte from your Air Temple married off to the family of the Avatar? Outstanding. Having an acolyte from your Air Temple married to the only single airbender? Priceless.

He was getting frustrated at the blatant -.

“Stop frowning, Tenzin.” His mother whispered to him, leaning at his side. “You know Bumi underwent the same thing.”

Oho but no, Bumi did not.

The thought made Tenzin frown deeper.

Avatar Aang and Master Katara’s eldest son had gone ahead years ago and caused a scandal when he eloped in the Fire Nation capital. It was a love match.

Even Kya, the most free-spirited of the siblings, had discarded tradition, gotten engaged them wed to an air acolyte. It was also a love match.

Tenzin wanted the same, except, since apparently he was the only one left of his family bloodline to take over his father’s position in the Air Nation, it was close to impossible to form any lasting romantic entanglements.

There was a lot to take up, to get heavily involved in the Air Nation. To be fair, all of the children of the previously last airbender were equally exposed and poised to lead as part of their birthright. However, Bumi went on to be the consort of the Crown Princess of the Fire Nation. Then, just a few years ago, Kya agreed and, together with her wife, settled in the Southern Water Tribe to take up the mantle as the chosen heir of the late Chief, their Uncle Sokka.

That left him – Tenzin, the airbender.

The master airbender, his father would proudly introduce him – all shaved and tattooed. Despite the ceremony being a few months old, it all still felt fresh to him. It certainly felt odd to him to be shaven and so Tenzin had taken it upon himself to grow out a beard.

Anyone who would marry him would be part of the most powerful dynasties to date. His currently unmarried state was not due to the lack of prospects. And yet for some reason, his parents still saw it fit to keep going back to Gaoling.

Gaoling – which was the only city-state in the entire Earth Kingdom that had their nobles shun the Avatar and his family when they dropped by to visit last year.

Gaoling – where, coincidentally, was where they were a few miles in.

“Why do we keep going back here?” Tenzin turned to his mother once his father made his routine exit of the satomobile. Aang would usually leave the vehicle and go ahead of the convoy, using his glider to reach their destination earlier. “They don’t seem interested in meeting up with us anyway.” He was referring to the highborn family of the area.

Katara paused in the knitting she was working on. “Your father was almost betrothed to their daughter.”

This information took Tenzin aback. They all grew up hearing their parents’ epic love story. This was mainly why they had wanted the same for themselves. So, to hear that it was almost a different story was surprising.

Tenzin shook his head. “What happened?” He eyed the gates with the winged boar insignia the loomed nearer.

“Your father was going around at that time, seeking for support to campaign against the tyranny of the Fire Lord.” His mother tucked her yarn and work in progress in a weathered pouch. “It did not help his case that he had abandoned his role for years on, resulting in the Air Nomads being wiped out. There was a bit of bargaining and one of the conditions of Lao Beifong was to have the Beifong heiress wed Aang.”

Tenzin vaguely noted that the rest of their convoy turned left to the town proper while only their vehicle urged on forward.

The gong sounded from outside of the satomobile, announcing their arrival at the large ominous gate of Beifong estate.

“And then?” Tenzin prodded urgently as the gates opened and the satomobile crept slowly into the grounds of the Beifong family.

“Aang was weighing his options then when the younger Lady Beifong refused adamantly. We were turned away that same moment from the estate. In an unexpected turn of events, Toph Beifong saw it fit to defy her family and joined us. She became your father’s earthbending teacher.”

Tenzin’s eyebrows raised.

He had grown up to tales of his father’s bending masters. Only the blind earthbending master Toph, who became the world’s first metalbender, remained a bit of a mystery to him. For one thing, aside from the Monk Gyatso, he never met her. He only learned now that she has a surname.

There was a sense of anticipation now.

Maybe they will get to meet her in a few minutes?

Tenzin looked out the window. They were now parking in front of what looked to be a sprawling mansion. They have certainly made it further than they did in the last non-visit, where the guards did not even open the gates for them.

The metalbender was the stuff of legend. After having established a metalbending academy, Tenzin can find no trace of what happened to Toph Beifong.

So much was his anticipation that Tenzin did not notice the somber expression of his mother.

---

Lin sat in front of the dresser in her bedroom, silently watching as her grandmother’s maid finished tucking her thick black hair into a bun and placing the last strand of beads coiled around it. After ascertaining that she did not need any further help, the maid made herself scarce, stating she will be back once Lady Beifong called for Lady Lin’s attendance.

Lin blinked once at her reflection on the dresser mirror.

Twice.

She did not feel like herself.

She tilted her head.

She did not look like herself either.

If she were to be honest, the last time she truly felt like herself was the reprieve she had during her stolen time in Ember Island.

Breathing deeply, she reached for a tissue. Methodically, the young woman wiped off one side of her face, then the other.

She blinked again as the angry red marks on her cheek became visible.

---

A touch of his wife on his arm and Avatar Aang knew what she was asking.

It was unusual for none of the Beifongs to be standing in attendance to welcome their visitors.

Aang tucked his wife’s arm into his and patted it. He nodded to his son to follow.

Various household staff bowed to them as Aang led them deeper into the manor. Tenzin looked around curiously, keeping himself within hearing distance of his parents.

“Lord Beifong is in bad shape; he has been since the fire that broke out in the estate last year.” Aang finally shared.

Katara gasped in dismay, gripping Aang’s arm tightly. “And Lady Beifong?”

“She’s doing the best she could. She is…coping.”

“And their grandchildren?”

Aang shrugged weakly, stating he had not seen the grandchildren of the Beifongs yet.

“Is this why they are now considering the proposal…?” Katara trailed off, tossing a quick glance at their son who was seemed to be preoccupied by the framed portraits they were passing.

The Avatar nodded. “I had hoped it would be a joyous occasion, but this is what we’re dealt with.”

---

Tenzin clutched the warm teacup, looking into the dark tea in contemplation with what he had learned so far.

He sat at his parents’ side at the formal tearoom of the Beifongs, a silent participant and observer. Across them, Lady Poppy Beifong sat demurely, seemingly fragile and with the graceful bearing of someone born into the nobility. The airbender found it hard to believe that this woman gave birth to his father’s tough earthbending master.

Pleasantries were exchanged at the beginning and a stream of maids served them tea and an assortment of light snacks. His father shared about the different festivals across the nations that they had attended recently while his mother told stories about the flora they encountered during their trips. Even he was called upon to talk about the developments across the reconstruction of the Air Temples. Lady Beifong calmly spoke about the renovations in their estate, to revive the areas that the fire had touched.

After some obscure statements that were traded among the other people in the room, Tenzin was struck by the realization.

Toph Beifong was dead.

For how long – Tenzin tried to recall of portraits in the hallway – it must have been a long time ago as all of the portraits and photographs were quite dated.

Oddly enough, grandchildren (Toph’s children?) were mentioned and yet there were no photographs of them.

---

Lin tapped her fingers somewhat nervously on the armrests. She tried to get engrossed in the book she was reading, but her mind was not into it.

A few rooms down, her future was being decided, so much for being a young woman of independent means.

As expected, upon her return from Ember Island, Lin received the scolding of her life. Never mind that she was already in the twenties – running off on her own was unbecoming of a Beifong Lady.

Words were said. Lord Lao Beifong’s word was final and his granddaughter had no other recourse but to continue to submit to the duties of the Beifong heiress. The families that depended on their lands for a living were part of her responsibility. Both the Beifongs and their staff flourished under Lin’s attention. Lao was pleased with the profitability of their produce and in turn, with Lin. At least, until it became a Problem.

Once it became apparent, Lord and Lady Beifong cut down the number of their staff and security, locking once again the Beifong gates, unwelcome to any visitors. It was during this period when the Avatar and family had passed by for a diplomatic visit the year prior.

It was also in this situation, a few months later, did fire strike in the household. With the limited staff, it took a long time to get the fire under control. By then, her grandfather, who had been at the indoor arboretum at the time, had inhaled much of the smoke.

Lin and her sister had sought to pry open the gates of the arboretum that had gotten tighter during the fire. In a miscalculated move, metal shrapnel that Suyin fashioned out of her practice cables flew from her grasp and hit Lin as they both struggled to release their grandfather. Despite the blood dripping to her chin and Suyin’s teary apologies, Lin did not pause and endured the pain while working on metalbending the gates open.

They did succeed though Lord Beifong was not the same presence as he used to be.

Once assured that her grandfather would live, Lin endured one of the longest nights of her life.

Since then, changes as to how the household was run were made. Since then, Lin took it upon herself to manage the estate as penance. After all, if it were not for her situation, her reckless behavior, there would have been adequate support in the estate to prevent the fire from spreading.

Bringing herself back to the present, Lin stopped her woolgathering as the knock on the door signaled that her presence was wanted by her grandmother and her visitors.

With one last look, Lady Lin stood to meet with her prospective in-laws.

---

Tenzin waited in tense silence with his parents.

He knew the drill – they had done this song and dance numerous times with other noble families around the different nations. Discussions about potential courtships between him and the daughter, eliciting information about familial expectations and loyalties… Nonetheless, not a single marital agreement came about.

One word from him and his parents would cease and back off from the negotiation or pursuing the potential bride.

Today, however, sitting in the opulent tearoom in the Earth Kingdom while waiting for Lady Beifong and her granddaughter, felt different. There was something in the air, a history that seemed to tie the two families. Or at least, the Avatar and his earthbending master (who, Tenzin learned had quietly passed during the birth of her second daughter).

Click-click-clack-click-click-clack.

Lady Beifong’s shoes echoed at the corridor, followed by a softer set of steps.

The door slid open.

---

Lin kept her head bowed as she greeted the family of the Avatar.

A Beifong lady keeps her eyes averted. So, she did.

A Beifong lady keeps silent until spoken to. So, she did.

She sat down beside her grandmother, hands crossed on her lap, vaguely paying attention to the discussion.

That was why she was surprised to feel a cool hand touching her scarred cheek.

---

“…Introduce you to my granddaughter.”

Everything paused for Tenzin when Lady Beifong stepped aside to present the younger Lady Beifong.

He caught sight of her face.

Her eyes. He will never forget those eyes.

He went through the motions next, his body on autopilot as his mind brought up memories he frequently revisited.

Those eyes which crinkled in laughter when he dropped her in the sea.

Those eyes whose pupils dilated in the dark as he gripped her thighs high.

Those eyes which rested on his without judgment while he whispered his fears of not being a good enough bender for his parents.

Lin now sat before him, where he now found it easy to observe her.

Her face – her porcelain skin was slashed --- who could have done this, what could have happened?

He was barely aware of what he was doing, he reached out gingerly to touch –.

SLAP!

Lin looked at him aghast.

His parents and her grandmother faced them in alarm.

Lin stood up. “Excuse me, everyone, grandmother, may I be excused?” Without waiting for a response, she bowed and rapidly made her way out of the room.

“I-I-I,” Tenzin stammered, dazed. “I apologize I don’t know what came over me.” He motioned to follow. “I need to find Lin.” He bowed and went out as well.

---

It took them a few more minutes to recover from what happened.

And it took them several more to realize that they never did mention yet Lin’s name to Tenzin.

---

“Wait, Lin – I’m sorry – wait!” Tenzin managed to grab her arm when she turned at the end of the corridor.

Lin shrugged him off. “How dare you!” She gritted out, each word hard with controlled anger. “Just because I look like this,” She waved a hand in the direction of her scarred cheek. “I don’t fit the mold of the perfect debutant your parents might wish for you – you don’t have the right to -!”

“Lin, I’m sorry – and it’s… it’s me!” He placed his hand on his chest. “Tenzin, from the beach.”

“No, you’re not.” Lin stared at him.

“I’m Tenzin – from Ember Island, don’t you remember me?” He plodded on, almost desperately. Didn’t their encounter mean anything to her like it did for him?

“No, you’re not him.” Lin shook her head frantically. “Were you hired by grandmother? Suyin? This isn’t a funny joke.” Her voice rose a pitch with each sentence.

What.

Then it clicked.

Damn – his hair.

Maybe Bumi was right – his personality came with his hair.

“No, Lin, it really is me – I – I’m a master bender now.” He raised his hands up, showing the tips of the tattooed arrows.

---

Lin took a step back, finally taking in the man who was her potential betrothed.

It couldn’t be…could it?

He did sound and look like the Tenzin she met last year…

Then it clicked that it was him.

How could she not have recognized him when she had retreated to thinking about their time in Ember Island as an escape…

“Excuse me, Lady Lin? It’s his feeding time.”

Lin froze, almost regretting her instruction to the governess that she could interrupt whatever Lin was doing at any time. She swallowed thickly, ignoring Tenzin’s dumbfounded expression and plastered a smile on her face.

She turned to the governess who had been looking for her and reached out her arms to take the precious bundle for her.

“Hello, dear, are you hungry now?” Lin Beifong nuzzled the baby in her arms.

---

Footsteps clattered nearer to where they stood.

Lady Beifong, Master Katara and Avatar Aang came to a halt as they rounded the corner.

Lin, Tenzin and even the baby turned to face the new arrivals.

Tenzin leaned forward, gravitating towards the child, who blinked back at him with bright grey eyes.

“Sweetie,” Katara started cautiously. “Not to be anything but – don’t forget about propriety, don’t act too...familiar with them.” Her eyes darted towards the Beifongs and their staff, likely worried that any action might be turned against him and he would not escape the situation unscathed.

“I think I’ve done more than enough to be familiar with Lin, mother.” The airbender tickled the nose of the child, to the outraged gasp of Lady Beifong and the widened eyes of his mother.

“Ah-CHWOOOOSH!”

Silence fell on the group.

The baby giggled as he rubbed his nose.

Lin and Tenzin shared a look of awe.

Of all their trips to Gaoling, Avatar Aang could claim that this was his favorite.

The day he met his airbending grandson.

---

Avatar Aang and Master Katara’s children all grew up hearing their parents’ epic love story. This was mainly why they had wanted the same for themselves.

The eldest, Bumi eloped with his childhood sweetheart, the Fire Nation’s Crown Princess Izumi. It was a love match.

Their only daughter Kya married her air acolyte wife in a simple Southern Water Tribe ceremony. It was also a love match.

Their youngest child, Tenzin wed the mother of his child, Lady Lin Beifong of Gaoling. It was, as everyone concluded, also a love match.

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Note: And that's the end~. Love it or hate it - let me know!

#linzin #linzin fanfic #linzin2021 #lin beifong #tenzin

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percabethfiles · 3 years

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Charlie

Uh... Hello? Anybody still here? I haven't been around in years and years. But I keep my fandoms stored in some corner of my brain waiting for something to tug them out. And of all things this time it was Taylor Swift re-releasing her old songs, because I used to imagine so many percabeth scenes listening to "Fearless". So have this little something that's been sitting unfinished in my archives for years now.

Remember that time Percy saw Sadie Kane and thought “Hey, this is what mine and Annabeth’s daughter would look like”? Yes.

(Also there are small nods to that fic I wrote about Logan, Hidden Heritage, but I've been meaning to re-write it someday because there were SO MANY PLOT HOLES omg)

When they find out it’s a girl it’s a bit too soon to know for sure, or so the doctor tells them. They’ll have to wait for the next appointment to know for certain. “So don’t go buying any tiny dresses yet,” he jokes and they laugh along, but they’ve been together for approximately eighteen years now, they can tell what the other’s thinking with a glance and the ecstatic grin that breaks through their lips lets him know they’re on the same page. Too late. They’re already thinking plush bow and arrows and a Merida costume for her first Halloween.

Percy tries to keep his cool. As the weeks progress, he tries not to get his hopes up, but in his heart he knows already. They hadn’t really had a preference before, they’d been too happy knowing their baby was fully human and had all its limbs (with the number of deities they’d pissed off, you never knew), but a little girl? It feels right after their two boys, it feels like their family will be complete.

(He thinks about a slight blonde girl with streaked hair and a British accent dropping from the sky on a magic camel, remembers thinking “if Annabeth and I had a daughter…” and his chest squeezes tight with happiness so raw he has a little trouble breathing)

When the doctor beams at them next appointment and says “Congratulations, Jackson family, it really is a girl,” he’s not surprised, but no less elated. He doesn’t hear the lame joke about Jackson Five, he’s too busy trying to be a manly man and not burst into tears because he’s going to have a daughter. When Annabeth’s in the other room paying for the appointment, and he’s waiting for the doctor to print the really impressive high tech 3D picture of the ultrasound, the man asks him “So did you go ahead and buy a tiny dress anyway?”

Percy blushes.

The man shakes his head in amusement. “Every time”.

His work colleagues, proud dads of little girls themselves, try to terrorize him with tales of tea parties and future boyfriends, and Percy thinks somewhere in the middle of all that teasing they mean well, but really, he’s mostly annoyed. It’s not like he’s new to parenthood, he’s got two sons already and they seem to be turning out okay, and before, when Logan and Nathan were just a nice dream for the future, there was Estelle, the little sister Percy had never expected, but loved to bits all the same.

And then Charlie is born.

She’s tiny, warm and pink, all curled up in her yellow cable-knit blanket, a tuft of blonde hair peeking out of a tiny, tiny beanie, features scrunched into the most adorable variation of a grumpy face. He’s not new to parenthood, he’s been here twice before, but the rush of affection and protectiveness and awe and raw love is just as genuine. He’s smiling like a dork, can’t seem to stop, walking from side to side, avidly searching her traits. She’s bigger than Nate was when he’d been born, but smaller than Logan. Her hair was light, like Nate’s, would it stay blonde or darken with time? Would her eyes be like his or Annabeth’s? And oh, she had her mother’s nose (they all did).

It never fails to amaze him how such a small, vulnerable being can shake up his whole world until it’s made a space for her. And he’s done this before, he’s no first time sailor this time, he’d thought he had it all under control. But she blinks and looks up at him with half-lidded eyes and a frowny face and—they’re green. Her eyes are the blue-green Logan’s are, Percy’s are.

(He’s got two sons who are his life, and he does love all his children equally, but holding his daughter for the first time, he thinks he understands his friends’ warnings. He doesn’t love her more, it’s just… different. It’s special.)

When he goes back to work, Nick takes one look at him and bursts into laughter. He claps him on the shoulder in commiseration.

“I told you.”

He’s completely wrapped around her finger already.

It’s not too different, he finds out. Especially having been pre-trained by Estelle. He’s got to brush up on his Disney princess knowledge, and hair braiding skills. He hasn’t gotten much better at color coordinating the polka dotted bows and tiny shoes, but Charlie is really forgiving. She is a very happy baby, much happier and easy going than any of the boys had been.

She’s also fucking crazy.

She is smaller and skinnier than her brothers, likes to wear frilly dresses and talk to plush animals and dance around the house in a pink tutu, but she’s wild. She never learned to crawl, just held on to the couch until she was wobbling on two feet, and it seemed like the very next day she was running across the house, the mall, the park, and if he turned his eyes away for one second, she was shooting off in the streets and nearly getting run over.

He’d found her dangling from the kitchen cabinets, trying to reach the cowering cat. She had a phase when she thought she could fly and she would climb furniture and stairs and the window sill and just… Launch herself into the air expecting her flying powers to manifest spontaneously. If they hadn’t been trying to raise them away from the whole mythological world, he would have sat her down and clarified that she had the wrong Olympian Grandparent in mind. She might have had more luck jumping into the ocean.

She had a way to jut out her lower lip, and turn those big green eyes on him that could render his every effort to be a responsible parental presence useless.

Besides, she was so funny. He could never muster enough anger to discipline her, because if he found her on the kitchen table covered in peanut butter, somehow sporting a very sticky Mohawk, and looking entirely unapologetic, well, he just couldn’t stop laughing.

One day he’s coming home from work and he hasn’t even pulled the key from the lock when Charlie calls out ‘you’re back daddy,’ in what sounds vaguely like a new jersey accent. He finds her sitting on the floor of the living room, drowning in one of Annabeth’s bathrobes, pink plastic barbie sunglasses on, holding a pooh bear sippy cup with one hand and a pinky stretched out.

“Charlie, what are you doing?”

“It’s wine Wednesday, daddy.”

“It’s what?”

“Wine Wednesday.”

He had half a mind to check if her sippy cup actually contained wine because they hid their alcohol way up in the cabinets she can’t reach but that girl could climb like a monkey. He knows he should follow that remark up with some kind of questioning of where she’d even heard of ‘wine Wednesdays’ and then explain that kids don’t drink wine or some other kind of responsible parent speech, but a sudden burst of incredulous laughter bubbles up in his throat and he takes refuge in the kitchen, lest he encourages her behavior.

He finds Annabeth there, hand over her mouth, clearly in stitches over their daughter’s performance. He wants to question if she gave her permission to wear her bathrobe but finding his wife nearly doubled over in silent laughter in the kitchen is too much and he finally lets out the guffaw he’d been trying to hold on to.

It’s not the first time Charlie leaves them breathless with laughter, and he’s almost scared of what she’s going to cook up in the future.

Charlie is a hellion.

There isn’t one person safe from her pranks, but she’s so adorable she hardly ever catches hell for it, and she’s learning to use it in her favor – thankfully, just in time for her parents to develop immunity to her puppy eyes. And she’s… difficult, yes, but not always, and not in a terrible way. For all her climbing the roof, organizing illegal cookie sales, getting in fights with her classmates, she’s not a bad kid. She’s got Percy’s penchant for befriending the kids no one wants to go near, and defending her ragtag team of losers. She’s loyal to a fault, and it gets her in trouble often.

She and Nate have epic jealousy fights over everything, including – but not limited to – Logan’s attention, the crayons, the biggest piece of cake and all the videogame characters in the world are not enough, they will always want whatever the other picked. It gives them many, many headaches. Logan, on the other hand, positively spoils her, and whenever Charlie gets in trouble they can be sure to find her hiding behind her big brother while he gives them this solemn look and says “It’s ok, mom and dad, Charlie promises she won’t do it again. We’ve talked.”

When the whole “Logan being attacked by a dracanae in school and thus finding out his Olympian heritage” debacle came to pass, and they started frequenting camp again, there was nowhere in the entire Camp Charlie would rather be than the stables. She’d spend hours there with the Aphrodite kids, brushing the pegasi and talking to them endlessly about all her classmates and her friends, and her dolls, and her new dress, and the new book grandma gave her. It was all really cute until Percy realized the pegasi were talking back, and she fully understood their replies.

And it’s funny, really, because Logan had taken after Percy, to a point where bathing him had been hard as a child because he tended to stay dry in the tub, and Nathan was Annabeth to a T, but Charlie was a perfect mix of them both.

He guesses it makes sense it would be so explosive.

When Charlie is twelve, she gets kicked out of school.

Percy is not overly worried about it himself – the number of schools he’d been kicked out of reached double digits, and this was only her first – but he is worried about how she will feel. Getting the boot from a place that’s housed you for years, where your friends are, where everyone already knows you and having to start over is never pleasant, no matter how used to it you were.

He’d expected the school to have gotten tired of all her pranks and misbehaving, which was fair, he guessed. But when Annabeth comes home from the meeting with the school director, she is seething, and not at their daughter. Charlie is angry too. In fact, it’s the first time he’s ever seen his daughter well and truly pissed off. The two of them are a sight for nightmares, both blondes standing side by side ranting with righteous fury, they look ready to start a revolution. What he gets from her angry snarls and Charlie’s rushed rambling is that Charlie had talked back to a teacher that was picking on the autistic kid and demeaning the thirteen year old who was repeating sixth grade.

She’d called him a brain-washing small minded overgrown bully who, he was quoting, didn’t get enough love from his parents.

And Percy is so proud his eyes even get a little misty.

Because he’s getting old and sentimental and raising kids is very hard. No one knows what they’re doing, not one person, not even the fancy psychologists with those books on raising perfect, well rounded, high-achieving members of society that Annabeth insisted on reading when she was pregnant with Logan. You do your best and you hope for the best, and you don’t know what you get until it’s basically too late to do anything about it. And even if he did have the best mom in the history of the entire world to draw example from, he was also half of an absent Olympian father whose heritage condemned him to dance in and out of battlefields half his life.

He’s always been terrified of being a crap father.

He looks at Charlie cussing out with every mild version of actual cuss words, stalking around the kitchen like a little lioness in a cage, furious at the unfairness of the whole situation, caring less about being expelled and more about who was going to defend her friends from that awful teacher when she’s gone.

His daughter is only twelve, but she’s already so brave, such a force of nature. She won’t stand for injustice, and she won’t take insult lying down. And she’s so kind. She’s growing up, and the person she is slowly turning out to be… is good.

And something in his heart shifts and settles down, smooths over old fears and anxious thoughts.

Percy doesn’t mean to brag, but he thinks he’s not doing half bad as a parent.

#fanfic #pjo #percabeth #percabeth kids #charlie jackson #back at it again with the old unfinished fics #percabeth fanfic

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youralternantpersonality · 4 years

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Hello My Dear Friend

Warning: Talking about Texas (I'm from here, chill bro lol), panic attacks, Phonophobia: the fear of loud sounds.

A/n: Hello! How have yall been? I hope you are okay and are taking self of yourself. I'll be 100% with yall, I guess I just had to get out what was wrong with me because out of nowhere (with the help of medication) I had a need to start writing.

Also, I DID NOT KNOW MY LINKS WERE NOT WORKING! I’m so sorry. I realized the best way to get to my masters list is to go to my description bar. I don't know why it isn't. if you know how to fix it, please let me know!

Anyways, I never put summaries, but here's a little snip—Y/n is best friends (100% platonic) with Jared and will be with Embry. The end. Enjoy!

***

Y/n POV

Finally! I'm finally coming back to the place I grew up at and loved. The place where nature is at every corner. I never thought I would miss the muggy and rainy state. I miss my friends on the Res and the few friends I had in Forks. I especially miss my little brother-from-another-mother, Jared.

Jared and I grew up together on the Reservation. We befriended each other instantly in second grade after making a bet that one of us could eat our rainbow popsicle faster than the other. The winner gets the strawberry scented eraser and a mechanical pencil that the other grabbed from a 3rd grader. Needless to say, I won. Granted, I had a brain freeze, but it was 100% worth it. But now I was on my way back to La Push to finish my Junior year with my friends after leaving in Freshman year.

Pulling up to the house I grew up with, I was welcomed by my grandparents and my aunt Lydia. My grandmother and aunt were already outside washing what looks like something green; I'm assuming she's making collard greens tonight. My grandfather just came from around the side of the house with some more logs to make a fire. As soon as the car is parked, they look up with smiles on their faces, and I jump out to embrace my family.

"Nana, Papa, Aunty!" I say as I run up to them as they get ready for me to embrace them. After Nana had a minor heart attack, Aunt Lydia came to La Push from California to assist her since she was a nurse for the elderly. She eventually moved in with them after she divorced her bastard of a husband. Their marriage is an example of what happens when you don't communicate well with your partner beforehand. Aunt Lydia never wanted kids—she liked them, but she also liked giving them back to their parents. Her ex-husband, Justin, wanted kids. He's always wanted kids, and knowing that she never wanted them, he still tried to sabotage any way for them to get one. Hiding her birth control, poking a hole in the condom, arguing that she'd change her mind eventually. Not understanding that she did not want one. At some point, he claimed he was okay with it, but as soon as they got married, I guess he figured she'd change her mind.

Three years later, she filed for divorce. Not long afterward, she moved back up here; then, when Nana had a heart attack, she moved in with them. It's been a year since all of that happened. She is now dating a man in Forks who already has kids and doesn't want anymore. The kids are in fifth, seventh, and ninth grade, so she's content and happy. They all love her, and she loves them equally, if not more.

"Hey, baby! How's my Ladybug." Nana asked. Ever since I was little, she gave me that name. I was adopted by the Nomalose at two, and the second my Nana came up to me in her kitchen, somehow a Ladybug flew in and landed on my shoulder. Thus, granted me the name Ladybug.

"I'm good, Nana. How are you feeling?" I asked, hugging her as she continued to sit in her chair then moving to my aunt.

"Oh, baby, I'm fine. Always am, and always will be." She says with a smile. So optimistic as always. After greeting everyone as we moved inside, we all sat around to catch up on what has happened since we were gone. Dad had a job transfer in Texas, so we had to pack up and head out. At first, leaving La Push and moving to Dallas was (obviously) terrifying, but I was repulsed by the thought of it. But after a while, it wasn’t too bad. I mean, yes, it's hot as hell, some people are questionable, the pollen is horrific, and the redlining system is as evident as can be. However, I grew to love the heat and get a tan, made some friends, and the food…. oh, the food. What kind of threw me off is that they have to state the Texas flag pledge in class every day. What the absolute fuck.

After finishing up, we head back to the car and head to our home. Grabbing our stuff and unpacking it before the rest of our furniture arrives tomorrow. It's only mid-July (imagine moving in the middle of the summer from Texas to Washington. It was absolute hell), so I take this time to explore the area I once knew and get acquainted with. I plan on calling up some friends before I see my A1, the Jelly time to my Peanut butter, the Tom to my Jerry, the Magenta to my Blue, Jared Cameron. We kind of fell off within the last couple of months, but a little show-and-tell never hurt anyone.

I text some of my old friends I kept in contact with, and we decided to meet up at the beach. I put on my shorts, grab my beach gear, and head out.

"Be back before the streetlights-" mom started,

"-Come on. I know, I know. I'll text you when I'm on my way home." I finished. I kiss my parents and jump in the car to head to First beach. When I arrived, I see my sister-from-another-mister, LaCienega.

"Y/n/n!" She screams, running to me.

"Cien!" I scream back. We hug each other as tightly as possible before laughing like a bunch of crazy women.

"So, you're just going to forget all about us? Well, bitch, fuck you too." I look behind Cien and see her twin brother Javier and our other two friends, Leilani and Damion. I go up to them and hug the absolute shit out of them, and we all head towards the beach. We spent the day laughing, crying, playing soccer, and playing chicken before calling it. I planned on seeing Jared tomorrow but was warned by Leilani.

"Jared isn't Jared anymore, Y/n/n," she says, looking down at her hands with a deflated expression.

"What do you mean?" I asked, looking at everyone else too.

"Did Jared stop talking to you recently?" Javier asked. I nod my head slowly. They looked at one another, and he continued. "He did the same to us too. He randomly disappeared one day, and the next thing we know, he grew a whole foot and a half, gained muscle, got a tattoo, and just ignored us. He started to hand it out with Sam Uley. Now when we see him, he just ignores us and moves on like we are nothing to him." I shake my head. That can't be right; Jared wouldn't be like that—he can hardly ignore starting random shit with people, especially if there's money involved.

"I mean, yeah, he did fall off the face of the earth, but…no. I'm going over there tomorrow. I'll talk to him to see what's up. That just doesn't sound like the Jared I know." I say, packing up.

"Well, if you can get him to talk, ask him for that $20 he owes me. Bastard never paid me back after winning a bet that I could out eat an XL pizza against him." Damion laughs. I nod my head and head to my car. On the way home, I think about what they said. I just can't fathom that Jared would be like that to anyone. It just doesn't sound like him at all.

~~~

The next day, I text the crew that I was on my way to talk to Jared. I decided to surprise him, and because I knew he didn't live too far, I decided to get my steps in and just walk to his place. Once I was there, I knocked on the door, and his mom answered.

"Oh my…Y/n? Is that really you?!" she exclaims with a smile on her face. She instantly pulls me into a hug, and tears swell in her eyes.

"Hi, Mrs. Olivia," I say back as I hug her. She invites me in, and we talk until Jared's sister and dad walk through the door.

"Y/n!" Kaylee, Jared's sister, screams and runs to me. I hug the now 12-year-old girl.

"Hey hon, hi, Mr. Kevin," I say, giving a wave across the room.

"Hey Y/n, how have you been? When did you get in?" he asked.

"I’ve been good. Just settling in. We came in yesterday morning. I came by to see you guys, and I was wondering where Jared was.” His demeanor changed. He cleared his throat and said Jared is with some friends and now isn’t a good time seeing him. He basically rushed me out of the house after that. As I was walking home, I thought it was strange, but I didn’t want to question it…for now.

It was only one in the afternoon, so I decided to walk to the diner not far from his house. I go up to the counter to order something to-go and sit on the barstool. Taking out my phone, I text Cien and Leilani what happened. They found it strange, but they weren’t too shocked by it. When I looked around the small diner, my eye caught a pair of familiar eyes.

“Kim?” she looks at me, and her eyes widen instantly. She gets up from her table and walks over to me and hugs me.

“Holy shit! Y/n?! What are you doing here? When did you get in?” she asked. Kim and I weren’t necessarily “besties,” but we were friends. More like the type to hang out around school, but not so much outside of it.

“Hey! I moved back. Came in yesterday. How have you been?” I asked. Before she could say anything, my food comes out, and she offers a ride to drive me home.

“Oh, you don’t have to. I don’t mind walking.” She looks at me hesitantly,

“Come on, we can talk on the way. Plus, daylight or not, you never know what's lurking.” She says.

“What do you mean?” I ask. She grabs her stuff from the table she was sitting at alone, and we walk towards the door.

“Well, lately, there has been a lot of bear sightings in the area. People coming up missing or dead. And, I just don’t want you to be the next victim.” She says as we head towards my place.

“Damn, so, let me guess, no hiking?” she nods her head.

“Please, please, please! Do. Not. Go. Into. The. Woods. Especially by yourself. The last thing we need is someone going missing again.” She emphasizes. I look at her with shock and just nod my head. At the light, she turns to me. “I’m serious Y/n. I know you have a habit of being a daredevil and taking risks. Don’t do it.” I look back at her with a shocked expression and just nod my head.

“Yeah, okay. I promise.” I say being serious. She nods her head, and we continue onward in silence. When we get home, I tell her bye and head inside. I now want to know what the fuck is going on, and what did I miss?

~~~

The next morning, I try calling up Jared, but I got no response. As I headed to the kitchen, I could hear Mr. Kevin’s voice laughing and talking to my dad in the living room. Heading in that direction, I welcome him then head into the kitchen to make myself some food. Once I was done, I head back to my room and get ready to head to the beach. I overheard Mr. Kevin saying that Jared and “the guys” would be at first beach. So, why not take a trip there for the fuck of it?

I tell my parental guiders that I will with some friends and head to my car. I text Leilani and Cien to meet me up at the beach for a little girl's day out. As I’m setting up, I run into Jacob Black, Embry Call, and Quil Ateara.

“Holy shit! Y/n!?” I turn to see Jake, and I smile at them and wave. We were classmates up until I left. I look at them, and I still see Quil looks like a baby, and Embry has gotten a little cuter, yet awkward and shy, but cute as can be.

“Hey, guys! How are you?!” I say, hugging them. Maybe hugging Embry, a little longer than I probably should’ve. They were a grade younger than me, but I still would hang with them when they were around.

“Not too bad, can’t complain. How about you?” Quil exclaims. Embry just looking at me and giving me butterflies in my damn stomach.

“I’m good. You know, just moving back, living life, trying to not get killed in the process. The usual.” I say, smiling. We talk until the girls come up. I tell them to text me some time—mainly hinting at Embry—and we parted ways. A couple of hours later, the girls head home, and I stay for a little while longer while La Push is still welcoming the sun. Not long afterward, I’m cut from my daydream with loud hoots and hollers. I turn to see who it was, and I can only make out a few of them. One of the girls turns to me and waves at me. I look behind me to see no one, and I slightly wave back, having no idea who she is. She runs up to me, and I see it's Kim.

“Oh, shit. Kim, hey. Sorry, I can't see shit.” She smiles and laughs but brushes it off. She invites me over to play soccer with her friends, and I politely decline. I suck being around new people. She smiles and encourages me, but I hear the voice I’ve been looking for before I could say anything.

“Y/n?” I look up to see Jared. But not the Jared that I remember; this Jared is entirely different. Someone I have never met before in my life. This Jared looks like he belongs on WWE or some shit.

“Jared? Holy shit! You’re fucking huge!” I say, walking towards him. But before I could do anything, he cuts the reunion short.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Hold on. Pause. What the fuck?

“Um, I live here. What’s wrong? Is that a bad thing?” he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“No, I meant here. On the beach. I thought me not replying meant not to contact me or follow me.” I looked at him, shocked. Kim steps in the middle.

“Woah, babe, chill. You guys cool?” I nod my head.

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Was.” What the…

“Woah, what the hell J. Did I do something? What the fuck is your problem? Last time I checked, this was a free beach.” What the hell was his problem? Who is this? This, this is…They were right, Jared has changed.

“Y/n, you shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have come back!”

“Jared, what the hell!?” I walk up to him, confused. I look behind him and see 2 more guys and a female.

“Leave Y/n. Just to make everything clear to you and to all of your friends, leave me alone. Don’t talk to me, don’t text me, don’t contact me. Don’t come to my house to bother my family, and don’t bother my girlfriend. Come on, Kim.” I stood there in shock. Kim looked as puzzled as I did but looked back at me and walked off. I stood there until I felt something fall on my face—a tear. Before I could react cognitively, I go back to my stuff and head home. I honestly felt like my heart has been ripped to pieces.

As I pull up to the house, I run inside and go straight to my room. I sit on my bed and text everyone in the group text what happened and just shower and lay in my bed again. It wasn’t until later that evening that I came out of my room for dinner at my grandparents’ house that I communicated with everyone. Why would Jared act like that? Did he do that with everyone? Is this what everyone was talking about? Something is up. I’m not going to say it's ‘roid-rage, but… I can’t pass up the thought that it might be drugs.

The following week I keep myself busy doing little things and going out with my friends, hanging out with Jake, Quil, and Embry. Mainly attempting to not be bothered about my last interaction with Jared. Coming home from Port Angeles with everyone that evening, my parents are arguing again. I retreat my stuff upstairs and try to silence them out. Ever since I can remember, I’ve always had a horrible reaction when it comes to people screaming at me or arguing with or in front of me. I eventually narrowed it down to a time where I don’t remember before I was adopted. It didn’t help that my parents did it frequently as I grew up. It was worse when I was a kid. Before I would be able to leave and go to Jared’s house, he would calm me down. Now? I have no one. I can't necessarily go to my other friends because they don’t really get how bad it is. Jared is the only one who knows and who has seen the horror.

As much as I try to block it out, nothing is working. I grab my speaker and head to the bathroom to shower, trying to calm my nerves and tune them out. Hoping that they would stop by the time I get out. But I was wrong. It seemed like it has only gotten worse. And when I listened in, it was my fault.

“If you weren’t fucking yelling, she wouldn’t need to hide and turn up the music to block us out!” mom said.

“Why is it MY fault? Like EVERYTHING ELSE! Jesus! I told you to stop when the car pulled up! BUT NO! YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO HAVE THE LAST FUCKING WORD!” Dad said. And it was just like that back and forth. I slide down the back of my door and put in my headphones while trying to even my breath. Attempting to not have a panic attack. But it seemed as if the more I try, the louder they got. The louder they got, the more I cried. I couldn’t take it. I threw my headphones on the bed, grabbed my coat, put on my sneakers, and ran past my parents and out of the house. Even as I’m running away, I can hear them yelling about how I’m now leaving. It’s times like these that make me wonder why I can’t be normal.

Not realizing where I’m going, I just run. No stopping, no looking back, not thinking, just running. I don’t come back to the realization until I am in front of Jared’s driveway. I stop, thinking back on his hurtful words that I start panicking and running away from his home. Mindlessly running away, I trip and fall from a tree root sticking out of the ground. I look at my surroundings and notice that I somehow ended up in the forest. Confused and unsure, I look for a sign of familiarity, and I can’t find anything. Trying to not put myself in an even more state of panic, I take multiple deep breaths and calmly walk back into the opposite direction I tripped. But after a little while later, I notice I was lost even more. The sun is setting quickly, and I have no idea where I’m at.

Panic starts rising as I try to calmly and carefully walk out of the woods. I reach for my phone only to discover that I don’t have it. I either left it at home or dropped it when I fell. I stop by a nearby tree and just try to relax. But of course, life likes to go against me and scare the shit out of me. It wasn’t a second later that I heard the crunching of leaves and a branch snapping. I looked around me and didn’t see anyone. The rustling of the branches above me had me look up and saw nothing. But it was the figure in front of me that scared the living shit out of me.

In front of me stood an average height woman with chopped short black hair; she was skinny, pale skin, and beautiful. But what was creepy was the red eyes. I was so shocked by her appearance that I didn’t notice the man next to me. He towered over me. He looked six-feet, with silver blond hair, pale as the woman, and blood-red eyes.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here, Vanity. A little pet, I see.” The man says, stepping towards me.

“I see. Awe, she looks so adorable! I just want to eat her up! Can we keep her Leo!?” the female, Vanity, said. She gets a disapproving look from Leo, who turns to me, and the next thing I know, I’m up against the tree with this hand around my neck. This, by no means, is helping with my anxiety. I froze, unsure what to do.

“This is interesting, no fight back.” Leo says, “Well, where’s the fun in that?” he snarls. He throws me across the forest. I land on my shoulder and scream out in pain. “Run.” Is all he says before I get up and take off. I run as fast as I could while screaming for help. Hoping anyone is out there and available to rescue me from this hell.

“SOMEONE, PLEASE! HELP ME! HELP!” I yell, running as fast as my legs could carry me. If there's one thing I’m grateful for, it's being thankful for having the gift of balance. Without it, I would have tripped and fallen by now. I hear laughter above me, and as I look up, I see Vanity and Leo jumping from tree to tree, terrorizing me more. Nightfall has hit, and I can't see shit. I turn in another direction to get away from them, only to enter into an open field. I run across this little open area only to be cut off by Vanity on one side and Leo on the other.

“Now! We’re having fun. Right baby!?” Leo screams to her.

“Son of a bitch! What are you guys!? Please don’t hurt me!” I say, tears coming from my eyes.

“Well, since you asked so nicely. We’ll make it quick, hon.” Vanity says. She shoves me to the ground and moves my head to the side, but I hear a growl from across the field before she could do anything else. We all turn to look, and I see wolves. Giant wolves. What the living fuck is going on? A more enormous black wolf is leading two more of them, looking at us.

“Well, well, well. Look what we have here. I thought you guys died off.” Vanity says, turning to Leo, “The game just got interesting.”

“Game? What game? I don’t want to play.” I said in a quivering voice. One of the wolves looked at me; the one next to him stares back at him, then at me.

“Seems to me that one of them recognizes our little friend here, Leo.” The bitch pops my shoulder out of place, making me scream out in pain, begging them to let me go. The wolves growl and take a step closer.

“Gotta catch us to get her,” Leo says. Next thing I know, I’m tossed over his shoulder, and we’re taking off into the deep dark forest. Before I can react, I find myself moving at an inhuman speed. My mind catches up with my voice, and all I can do is scream.

“Let me go!” I yell to someone. I look up to see the wolves right on their tail. A second later, I'm being tossed in the air, and I was caught by Vanity.

“What the fuck! Please! Don’t kill me! Please!” they ignore my plea, and she starts jumping up from tree to tree along with Leo. She tosses me again, and I barely land in Leo’s arms. At this point, I'm crying. I have no idea what’s going on technically. Wolves are chasing us. I feel sick to my stomach. I just want to go home. I turn to look behind Leo and see a wolf right upon him. He senses it and tosses me to Vanity. She catches me, and I look ahead. We are coming up on a clearing, I recognize. It’s the cliff.

“NO! NO! NO! I CAN'T SWIM! I CAN'T SWIM! HELP! HELP!” Those were my last words before I’m thrown over the cliff and into the pacific. Everything slowed down at that point. I looked back and saw Vanity diving after me, and behind her, I saw one of the wolves looking at me, and before I hit the water, it howled, and I blacked out.

Part 1: Hello My Dear Friend

Part 2: Goodbye My Dear Friend

Part 3: Welcome My Dear Friend

Part 4: Why My Dear Friend

Part 5: End My Dear Friend

Request Open!

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imaginesforjohnnydepp · 4 years

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Architectural Digest (Power Couple extended imagine)

for @karlacce4 @takemepedropascal

Inside Johnny Depp and Y/N Y/L/N’s Stunning $1.9M New Orleans Home! - Article by Rita Joseph, November 2018

A casually dressed Y/N opens the door on a bright and sunny but chilly Friday afternoon. The Golden Globe nominated actress is just as stunning makeup free and in an old college sweatshirt and jeans and her hair pulled back from her face as she is in expensive designer gowns and jewelry; right behind her is her husband Johnny Depp and their dog Jack Sparrow. “Hey, come on in!” Immediately, I’m greeted with warmth and the scent of cinnamon. The entrance is narrow, and there is a wooden table next to the door with a small bowl which hold two sets of car keys, but there are two doorways across from each other: on the left is the sitting room, and on my right is the dining room with its painted blue walls contrasted with white curtains and a chandelier hanging above the table.

We start with the sitting room which holds a lime green couch adding a nice touch of color against the white walls. There is also a gold ceiling lamp and a glass coffee table. “This is our sitting room, but we use it for a little bit of everything, like a storage room or sometimes a guest would want to sleep in here when they visit because it’s so quiet as opposed to upstairs because we still have teenagers, and there’s a lot of banging around in the morning getting ready for school, or we’ll have friends over.” Those friends would include Brad and Angelina (before the divorce), Tim Burton and Eva Green, Helena Bonham Carter, and Depp’s Hollywood Vampires band mates Joe Perry and Alice Cooper. What great company to keep!

From the sitting room we head into the dining room. “We actually painted the dining room a week after we moved in. All of the walls in the house were white and we thought it was way too much, so we decided to paint it a different color,” Depp said. “The tables and chairs actually belonged to Y/N’s sister and we bought it off her in ‘07 when she moved to another city, and that couch in the other room we bought after Nathan and Noelle’s first birthday.” “It was their favorite thing to play on when they were babies. So hard to believe that was 2004,” Y/L/N reminisced. The blue walls are decorated with a few of Depp’s paintings with a molding of a deer’s head that Y/N got at a flea market.

As we exit out of the dining room, I get a good look at the other side of the wall facing the staircase as we go into the living room. The entire wall is covered in a black and white photo of a jazz band taken at a Mardi Gras parade a few years ago, and there is a nice sized wine cabinet which is the size of a recording booth with only one bottle of wine in it; Johnny has cut back on drinking, but still enjoys a glass of wine every now and then. “I’m not as young as I used to be, and I’m runnin’ around on stage all night so I want to be as healthy as possible when I’m performing and to see the rest of my babies grow up.” The rest of his babies would be Nathan and Noelle, fraternal twins born in 2003. Their oldest kids include 26-year-old Star Wars star John Christopher III, born in 1992, and 22-year-old The Greatest Showman actress Camille.

The living room is gorgeous but simple; an all white leather reclining sectional with built in cup holders surrounds a small wooden coffee table in front of the fireplace which has a flat screen television above it. There’s a chandelier in this room as well, similar to the one in the dining room, and the wooden table behind the sectional breaks up the whiteness of the room. “This is where everyone spends the majority of their time. Morning, noon, night, weekends, we are here, with the older kids when they come over for dinner on Sundays. They’ll come over in the afternoon and stay the whole day.” Even with the oldest kids moved out and with houses of their own, the Depps are still a close knit family with Camille and John Christopher, or Three as he’s called by friends and family, living minutes away. Depp family favorite weekend activity? “Cooking breakfast together and then going to the nearby park or to a flea market or farmers’ market. There’s always something to do do in the city so you’re never bored,” the Dark Shadows actor explained.

When I asked them why they decided to move away from Hollywood, it was an easy answer. Y/L/N said: “we wanted to give them a normal childhood, and you can’t really have that when there are people taking pictures of you in your school uniform heading into school.” The couple moved to the Big Easy before Johnny began filming the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie in 2002, and speaking of cooking, the kitchen is next, and it is every homeowner’s dream. The white marble kitchen island doubles as a sink with its clear backed chairs and a sleek gold light fixture hanging above. A few feet away is a rectangular table with four shelves.

“This is my favorite room. I’m always cooking, and this is pretty much multipurpose room. We do game nights, eat meals, the twins do homework here.” When I joked about the chandeliers, the two only laughed, with Y/N adding, “you’re gonna be seeing a lot of chandeliers in this house. I loved them as a child and always wanted one. Or thirteen. We actually got each of them at Home Depot or Wayfair, and they look good in every room.” At this point, Jack Sparrow begins barking and runs to the front door (the dog, not Depp who plays the beloved swashbuckler). Noelle and Nathan are home from school and they follow the dog into the kitchen.

They are taken aback as they take in the camera man, as they wash their hands in the sink before reaching for the snacks. “Oh, I thought this was happening tomorrow,” Noelle remarks as she reaches for a bag of trail mix from a cabinet and a bottle of water from the fridge. “You have drivers ed tomorrow,” Y/N instantly in mom mode. “And your uniforms are hanging up in the laundry room.” Johnny and Y/N are athlete parents with Nathan playing on his school football team while Noelle is a cheerleader. After getting an okay from the twins to tour their rooms, we head upstairs after the examining the wall of pictures in the upstairs hallway.

Some pictures that have never been made public: a tired looking Y/N in a hospital bed after giving birth to their children, followed by a procession of school portraits and certificates from school. John Christopher and Camille’s graduation and prom pictures. Family outings at the near by park which featured a heavily pregnant Y/N circa early 2000s. A picture of Depp’s late mother Betty Sue and Y/N’s Aunt Claudia smiling as they played cards. And then there were the family portraits.

One that started with John Christopher as a newborn in 1992, then adding Camille in 1996, followed by the twins in 2003. Black and white photos of grandparents and great-grandparents, photos of Depp and Y/L/N ancestors, and the framed Polaroids of Y/N and Depp in Vegas on their honeymoon, after they eloped in summer 1991 after less than a year of dating, and I had to ask the question that’s still on peoples’ minds years later: why elopement? “We were young and didn’t want to go through the process of planning a wedding. I proposed a day after meeting her aunt and uncle and two days later we were married.” You remember that day like it was yesterday; you and Johnny went on vacation to visit your aunt and uncle so they could meet him for the first time as your boyfriend. They loved him, of course and at that point, you’ve only been dating for four months and it was getting serious to the point where Johnny called you his future wife and mother of his children in interviews (which probably wouldn’t be too distant in the future since your period was late). He proposed the night before you left for L.A. after your aunt and uncle had gone to bed and you immediately said yes.

After settling back home, you two took a road trip to Las Vegas the very next day and twenty seven years later, you’re still very much in love. I asked them why move to New Orleans, to which Depp answered: “Y/N was filming a movie here after Three was born, and when I came to visit her with the baby, I think it was during Mardi Gras, we had an amazing time. The food was just incredible, and the people were amazing, and no one gave a fuck about who we were. Once Camille was born, we kept coming back as much as we could, and we decided we wanted to build a life here.” The first room we enter after reaching the landing is the master bedroom. The walls are painted a nice gray, and, you guessed it, a chandelier. “This is our room, where we rarely get any sleep because we have the kids always running in and out for whatever reason--”

“And we also climb into bed with them too,” Noelle interjects. “And other times we just do it to annoy them,” Nathan backs up his sister’s statement. The bathroom is gorgeous with a white tiled floor; the shower stall is in a corner next to Y/N’s vanity, and across from it is a jacuzzi tub set next to a window that had a few candles along the edge, and adjacent from the tub is a double sink. “This is our bathroom, and we do more unwinding here than the bedroom. Whenever one of us comes home from filming or press tours or whatever, we’re in the tub, probably falling asleep.” Next we move to Noelle’s room and it’s something out of a Pintrest board

Pretty pastel pinks and fluffy white rugs and throws with a nice swing chair in a corner, which she calls her reading nook. Black and white framed pictures of her mom from her modeling days as a teenager and pictures of friends and family fill in space on her walls. “Every piece of furniture came from either Wayfair or Overstock. They have such great deals on furniture and rugs, and I’m always scrolling through their websites.” Nathan’s room is a typical boy’s room. It’s a cool gray scale vibe with a portion of the wall behind his bed painted black and there are shelves on either side of the bed filled with books, picture frames and sports trophies. “Dad and I repainted this wall almost a month ago. The sun shines so bright in the mornings and it’s always a pain, and I love when a room is cold and dark.”

He admits to sleeping with the fan on at night, even in the winter. There’s a sleek desk in the corner that holds a laptop and a stack of books, and next to it, against the wall, is a decent sized book shelf. Nathan likes to read, a trait that he and the rest of his siblings picked up from their parents. He and Noelle are having a competition to see who could read the most books by the end of the year. The next room is a low ceilinged guest room which is where Depp’s mother Betty Sue lived her last days.

“This used to be Grandma Betty’s room. Jack comes in here all the time, and we’d find him just laying on the bed,” Nathan says, touching a portrait of his grandmother. The next room is pretty much a music studio, as there’s a drum kit, bass guitars, electric guitars, and a keyboard. The walls are covered with the kids’ school art projects over the years. The room is frequented by Depp’s band the Hollywood Vampires whenever they blow into town, where they write and record new music, and Noelle receives guitar lessons from her father and Cooper. The last room we reach is a game room/homemade home movie theater.

There’s a nice flat screen on the wall and plastic storage bins containing video games, game controllers, and DVDs; Noelle used the room to host a sleepover a few weeks ago, and Nathan and his friends used it to launch water balloons at the neighborhood boys during the summer, which he realizes he makes a mistake in admitting this in front of his parents. Finally we come to the last part of the tour, the backyard which holds a patio and a swimming pool. “I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but we were using the pool up until a week ago. During the spring and summer months, we’ll invite the neighbors over for barbecues or they’ll invite us.” It’s November, and Thanksgiving is a week away. The entire Depp family plans on spending the holiday at the Kentucky ranch Johnny bought for his mother with his siblings. Before we leave, Y/N offers me and the camera man Justin a snack of green tea and cinnamon rolls ushering us politely out of the door so they could have dinner and get ready for Nathan’s game.

The video is now up on architecturaldigest.com and on our YouTube channel.

The video is uploaded on YouTube to great reviews; the viewers love how down to earth and humble you are and that you didn’t spend a ton of money on furniture and other unnecessary miscellaneous items in the house while others wish they had a room like Noelle’s when they were teenagers. The comments range from: i’m a simple person. i see johnny depp’s name and i click on it-user26. i love how they live in a normal looking house in a normal neighborhood. i’m so glad they raised their kids outside of hollywood because john christopher and camille are the most humble nepo kids in the industry and always acknowledge their privilege. can’t say the same for others.- user89. When is Noelle gonna start her modeling career?- user85. i love how close they all are and that they live so close together to where they can get together on the weekends.- user63

dying at the looks johnny and y/n gave nathan when he said he and his friends threw water balloons out the window.- user14. when tf did the twins get so big??? why wasn’t i warned???- user 78. why do noelle and nathan get to look like they just stepped out of a j crew catalog after a day at school but i look like i got beat within an inch of my life by 4th period? - user52

#johnny depp imagines #johnny depp x reader #johnny depp imagine

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searchingwardrobes · 4 years

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The Early Leaf’s a Flower: 1/11

I can’t believe this day is finally here! I have worked so hard on this, and I am both nervous and excited to post it. This is a re-write of Someone to Watch Over Me. I changed the title because the focus was no longer on Emma’s “imaginary friend” watching over her, but equally on Emma and Killian and how, when, and why the wardrobe brings them together. There’s also a theme about growing up and loss of innocence, which is why I took the title from one of my favorite poems, “Nothing Gold Can Stay” by Robert Frost. For those of you who loved the original fic, I haven’t done away with little!Emma and little!Killy. As a matter of fact, there’s more of it with parts from Killian’s point of view, where the original was just from Emma’s.

The biggest change in this is that I have completely thrown out canon. Emma and Killian are the same age in this, and the plot focuses on Neverland. I had just finished re-reading Barrie’s Peter Pan with my daughter when I started this, so it became a mixture of Once’s Neverland and Barrie’s. I love how that part in particular came out, and I hope you all do as well!

Massive thanks to the mods of the @captainswanbigbang ( @optomisticgirl , @phiralovesloki, @shippingtheswann , and @spartanguard). @optomisticgirl in particular helped beta when my original had to bow out and also encouraged me when I doubted myself (enduring really long pms in the process!) @shippingtheswann, I just don’t have words to express your beta skills in this! Emma and Killian’s relationship as kids would not be what it is without you, for one, and you just overall made me so much better as a writer. @distant-rose, thank you for encouraging me to write Milah the way I envisioned her and helping me create an awesome pirate crew for Killian. And finally, every single one of you in the discord chat for your constant encouragement, advice, and sprinting.

And now I will shut up and get to the fic! Therefore, tags at the end :)

Summary: She saw eyes that were the blue of the forget me not peering at her through the cracked door of the wardrobe. He saw hair as gold as the buttercups. Why does the wardrobe keep bringing them back to one another, if fate keeps tearing them apart? Or maybe fate has her reasons . . .

Rating: M for eventual sexy times, violence, canonical major character death, and attempted rape

Trigger warnings: vague references to child abuse (physical and sexual), violence, and eventual positive Millian

Words: about 3k in this chapter

This fic is complete and will be updated every Monday.

Also on Ao3

Emma: Age 10

Emma’s palms are damp with sweat as they clutch the small duffel in her lap. Another social worker, another foster home. Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins had been nice enough, but their biological sons? Emma shudders as she thinks of their sneering taunts and cruel pranks. She loosens her grip on her duffel bag so she can rub her thumb over the birthmark on the inside of her left wrist. Sometimes the flower-shaped mark becomes red and raw from the nervous habit.

Sighing, she watches the scenery go by outside the car window. Emma tries to keep her mind blank, knowing that getting her hopes up will bring nothing but pain. Yet she can’t help the anticipation swirling in her stomach.

The social worker pulls into a modest gravel drive just off the busy highway. The house looks old, and so does the woman who stands on the porch that spreads across the entire front of it.

“That’s Martha,” the social worker tells Emma, “she’s your new foster mother.”

Emma steps out of the car hesitantly, her eyes trained on her feet. Martha tells her hello, but she only mumbles a response. Instead of looking at her new guardian, Emma takes in the front of the house. Dingy white paint covers cracked shingles, the banister lining the porch is broken in places, and the red brick steps are crumbling at the corners. Emma doesn’t really care about any of that, however. Not when brilliant blooms crowd the ground beside the steps and in front of the banister. Emma reaches her hand out tentatively to feel the soft, blue petals.

“Those are forget-me-nots,” Martha tells her, “they’re my favorite flower.”

“The blue is so bright,” Emma says shyly.

“Aren’t they?” Martha leans down closer to Emma, chuckling as her knees crack. “Despite these old bones of mine, I tend these flowers carefully. Want to know why?”

For the first time, Emma looks directly at Martha, and the woman’s kind hazel eyes put her at ease. She nods silently.

“My Alfred, God rest his soul, gave me a bouquet of these before he left for Korea many, many years ago. Forget me not, Martha.”

The woman chuckles, and Emma tries out a tiny smile. “And you didn’t?”

“No,” Martha says, as she rises, extending a hand to Emma, “and he came home to me. We raised two kids in this old house, and now that he’s gone and my children have moved away, I get a bit lonely. I’d like us to keep each other company, Emma, if you want.”

Blinking in surprise, Emma looks at Martha’s hand, then at her face. She’s never had a foster parent or social worker ask her what she wanted. The question gives her the courage to take Martha’s hand.

Emma examines the woman as she takes her inside and shows her around the house. Martha looks to be in her seventies with brittle gray hair and deep wrinkles. Yet her smile is kind, and her hands are soft as they gently give her slim shoulders a squeeze. The house is at least a hundred years old with cracked, peeling paint, and scuffed hardwood floors. A monstrous, black pot-bellied stove radiates heat from the corner of the main room. Like most old houses, one room leads into the next, and Martha gently steers her through the doorway next to the stove. She tells her this will be the room she shares with Lindsey, the sullen teenager with a permanent scowl on her face. Emma looks around, taking it all in through her wide jaded eyes. There’s a fireplace in this room, but it’s bricked up. A small space heater instead runs in the corner of the room. Martha tells her this used to be the dining room, and a set of French doors line one wall. A long, low piece of furniture sits in front of it to block the door, but through the beveled glass, Emma can see the foyer and the front door that she knows leads out to a massive front porch complete with a swing.

Martha shows Emma her bed, and she’s surprised to find that she gets the larger one. A massive double bed of thick, dark wood with tall posts. Lindsay’s twin bed, just a simple metal frame and mattress sits in front of the room’s one window.

“Lindsay couldn’t sleep in that huge bed, so I got her that cot,” Martha explains with a shrug. She sets Emma’s bag beside the bed and then pulls a small step stool from beneath it. “This thing is so high off the ground, you’ll have to use this to get in. It’s a very old bed.”

Emma eyes the stool and tries to hide how pleased she is with the bed. It’s ornate and obviously an antique. It’s like something out of a movie. She’ll feel like a princess sleeping in that bed. All her life, she’s wanted more than the cots or metal twin beds she usually gets in foster homes. She flings her duffel right on top, lest this Lindsay change her mind and steal the bed away.

But the best thing of all is the wide space between the bed and the hardwood floor. No monsters can lurk there. In this bed, in this room, with Martha who tends flowers despite her creaking bones, maybe she’ll finally feel safe.

*****************************************************

Martha wears a faded house dress covered in tiny blue flowers and blue terry-cloth house shoes on her feet. She dons an apron to make supper, and Emma thinks of old black and white TV shows. Maybe this place won’t be so bad. Maybe Martha will one day tell her, “I love you, please stay. And why don’t you call me grandma?”

Emma tries to push that fantasy aside. If it doesn’t come true, she’ll be disappointed. Again. Martha asks if she wants to help with supper, and she eagerly agrees. Martha lets her pour the macaroni noodles into the boiling water on the stove, warning her to go slowly so she doesn’t burn herself. She then lets Emma stir the noodles so they won’t stick together while she expertly chops an onion into tiny pieces.

“These are the chicken pot pies,” she explains next, handing Emma a fork. She shows Emma how to slowly poke the fork into the crust to make each family member’s initials. Emma grins as she presses the fork into hers, then turns the fork sideways to make three more straight lines. “E” for Emma.

Martha’s kitchen table is of chipped formica that was probably once a bright blue but is now faded. The metal chairs with matching blue leather seats are like something out of the 1950s. Emma sits at the table with Martha and the other foster children the woman has taken in. Besides Lindsay and Emma, there’s also a little boy named Tyler with wide eyes and a sad, fearful face. His parents and sister were killed in a car accident, and he’s only here temporarily while his aunt and grandparents argue over who gets to keep him. Emma has a hard time imagining family, much less one who will want you so badly they would fight about it.

Martha hands Tyler a little plastic box shaped like a loaf of bread. She tells him to take out a card and pass it around the table. On each is a Bible verse, and they can’t eat until they’ve each read one. Lindsay rolls her eyes but does as Martha asks anyway.

Emma’s verse reads, “When my father and my mother forsake me; then the Lord will take me up.”

Martha takes a surprising interest in hearing about each child’s day. Lindsay’s eye rolling, Tyler’s quiet sadness, and Emma’s nervousness doesn’t phase the woman at all. After the meal, everyone helps clear the table and do the dishes. It’s a small kitchen, and several times Martha bumps softly into Emma or brushes against her. Each time, the woman laughs and gives her a tentative side hug. When she does, the elderly woman’s scent washes over Emma. It’s a distinctive smell that Emma can’t quite place, but it’s comforting and makes Emma want to bury herself in a bear hug with the woman. However, she refrains. She can’t seem too eager; it might scare Martha and then she won’t want to keep her.

The bathroom in this house is in an odd place: off the kitchen. When Emma goes to brush her teeth, she sees two jars on the pedestal sink. Inside one is a pinkish cold cream, and in the other is powder with a fat, fluffy puff resting on top. Emma lifts both to her nose and sniffs deeply. Yes, the combination of the two. That’s Martha’s scent. Emma eyes the makeup puff as she screws the top back on the cream. She simply can’t resist it, she lifts the puff and starts patting the powder onto her face. She starts and almost drops the puff when Martha suddenly steps into the room. Emma wilts. This will be her shortest stay at a foster home ever. A new record. She waits silently, heart pounding, for the yelling, frustration, and inevitable punishment.

But a smile simply deepens the crows feet around Martha’s eyes as she chuckles softly. She wets a washcloth and swipes it across Emma’s face.

“This pretty face doesn’t need makeup,” she tells her with a sparkle in her eye. “Of course,” she continues, “pretty is as pretty does.”

Emma cocks her head to one side and wrinkles her forehead, “What does that mean?”

Martha pats Emma’s cheek gently, “It means our hearts are what make us truly beautiful. The way we treat people and the things we do are far more important than what we look like.”

Relief washes through Emma when it sinks in that the woman isn’t going to punish her or even yell. Lessons on true beauty aren’t exactly what Emma is used to in a foster home, and she’s not quite sure how to accept it. Martha helps her off the stool, then takes her hand. She leads her to her room, tucks her in, and says a short prayer. Emma bites her bottom lip, wanting so badly to request a hug, but afraid to do so.

“Could I give you a hug and kiss good night?” Martha asks, and Emma thinks that the old woman looks just as nervous as Emma asking.

Emma beams and pulls her arms out from under the covers. The woman gives her a good, firm hug. Over her shoulder, Emma notices for the first time a large, ornate piece of furniture in the corner. There are a large set of doors in the top half, and two drawers on the bottom.

“What is that?” Emma asks in a shaky voice, pointing, when Martha releases her from the hug.

“It’s a wardrobe,” the woman explains, as she tucks the blankets back around Emma. “Old houses didn’t have closets, so people put their clothes in those.”

Emma says nothing as Martha brushes a kiss to her forehead and tells her goodnight, but she eyes the wardrobe warily. It’s the perfect place for monsters. She squeezes her eyes shut as Martha brushes her hair back from her face. Emma tries to tell herself that the boys at the last place were probably making things up. There’s no such thing as monsters . . . right? Yet she can’t forget the panic that had clawed at her when she was locked in that dark room . . .

“Sleepy, huh?” Martha chuckles, tucking her hair behind her ear. Emma lets her believe she is, waiting to open her eyes after the woman is gone.

A few minutes later, Lindsay comes in, rubbing her wet hair with a towel. Instead of pajamas, she’s dressed in tight jeans and a skimpy tank top. Emma sits up in bed and watches curiously as the teenager slips into a pair of boots.

“What are you doing?” Emma asks as Lindsay slowly and quietly opens the window.

“None of your business, kid,” she snaps, tossing a backpack out the open window. “Just don’t snitch. Got that?”

Emma nods as she pulls the blanket to her chest. Why should she care what Lindsay does? The teenager disappears out the window, and Emma falls back against the mattress with a sigh. She can’t remember the last time she had a room all to herself, and it makes her a little nervous.

She eyes the wardrobe warily, sitting up in bed and scrambling back against the headboard. She clutches the handmade quilt Martha had tucked around her in sweaty fists. Did it just creak open a little? She squints in the dark. Through the open slit of the wardrobe, she swears she sees a pair of bright blue eyes, the color of the forget me nots in Martha’s yard, looking at her. She gasps and throws the covers over her head. She counts to twenty slowly, squeezing her eyes shut. The wardrobe door makes another long, rusty sound. After another count to twenty, she slowly eases her head out of the covers.

The wardrobe door is shut tight.

Killian: Age 10

The sea is calm as glass, the air still and stifling. The sailors are antsy and on-edge, praying to every deity for wind. Rowers are sent to the galley every day to make some headway, and it’s exhausting work. Killian isn’t big or strong enough at just ten years of age, but Liam, at twelve, is. The elder Jones collapses into his bunk each night with sore arms and blistered hands. Killian prays the wind comes soon so he can have his brother back.

Perhaps his absence is why Killian’s mind is so distracted lately with thoughts of ginger curls and hazel eyes. His mother’s touch was always so gentle, her voice soft and lilting, her smile and eyes bright. He remembers her being sick; her eyes losing some of their brightness, and her laughter coming less often. But she still smiled. She still held him whenever he crawled into her sick bed. She still kissed him with her soft lips.

Killian remembers she would sing, too, with that lilting voice that was so different from his father’s deep, critical one. Every night, he was lulled to sleep by her lullabies. He begins to sing one now as he knots rope.

She stepped away from me

And she moved through the Fair

And fondly I watched her

Move here and move there

And she went her way homeward

With one star awake

As the swans in the evening

Move over the lake

Killian jumps as an empty bottle of rum shatters against the railing to his right.

“Shut up, boy, and get back to work!”

But to Killian’s surprise, the other sailors yell at the first to leave him alone. The lullaby reminds them of home, they say, so let the boy sing. And sing he does, passing the long, weary, windless days. The sailors who normally terrorize him are lulled by the bright, clear voice that only a child can possess. It changes the morale of the crew to such an extent, that the captain even sends him below to encourage the rowers with his songs. That is the best development of all, for now he’s near his brother; the only family he has.

A few nights later, Killian Jones can’t seem to get comfortable in his hammock. The ship creaks and sways, men snore loudly all around him, and the air smells, clogging his nose and making him gag. Nevertheless, his days are so brutally exhausting that sleep comes swiftly. Even last week when he was forced to sleep on his stomach because of the bloody lashes criss-crossing his back, sleep had claimed him easily.

But not tonight.

He shifts again, his hammock swinging with the motion. In his new position, he sees something in the hold that is completely out of place: a large, wooden wardrobe. No one would keep such a nice piece of furniture in the damp, dark hold. Killian furrows his brow in confusion - the large, bulky thing isn’t even moving an inch as the ship sways, which should be impossible, and it surely wasn’t there when he first went to bed.

“Liam, Li-am!” he whispers, poking at the hammock above him. Liam just mumbles in his sleep, something partially intelligible along the lines of leave me alone, Killy. Exasperated, Killian huffs and swings his scrawny legs over the edge of his hammock. He moves silently and cautiously across the wet wooden boards, his hand trembling as he reaches up to grasp the knob on the door of the wardrobe. He opens it a crack and gasps when he hears voices, female voices, on the other side. He glances behind him, but when he sees that no one else is awake, he crawls up inside the wardrobe. It is deeper than he expected it to be, and instead of a back, there is another set of doors. Killian is comforted to still see the ship’s hold through the open door he just crawled through, so he turns back around and pushes slowly on the second set of doors, opening them only a little.

He sees a bedroom, lit with soft light from a bedside lamp. A little girl about his age, with blonde hair the color of buttercups is being tucked into bed by a soft, wrinkled old woman with a gentle smile. Killian watches, fascinated, as the woman asks for a hug. He’s been surrounded by nothing but rough, loud men for so long, that he yearns to receive a hug for himself from someone so soft and warm. The little girl smiles as the woman embraces her, her eyes shut tight as she relishes the hug. But then her eyes, the color of seafoam, open and he quickly shuts the wardrobe as quietly as he can. His heart pounds in his chest as he hears the little girl ask the woman – her grandmother? – about the large piece of furniture. The girl’s voice wobbles as if she’s frightened, and Killian hopes she didn’t see him.

He thinks that maybe he should go back to his hammock, but he can’t get those sea green eyes out of his mind, nor the way the girl’s hair had shimmered like gold from the lamplight. He’s never thought long on any lass, or found any of them pretty. Most women he sees on his occasional stops in port are loud, brazen, and considerably older. This one, however, is different. She’s his age, for one, and there’s a softness about her that he hasn’t known since his mother was living. So finally, he musters up the courage to open the door a crack once more. This time, those green eyes lock on his, and the girl gasps and dives under the covers. He frowns as he pulls the door shut once more. He hadn’t meant to frighten her.

The next morning, he thinks he’ll talk to Liam about the wardrobe and the little girl on the other side. But when his brother teasingly upends his hammock, depositing him unceremoniously upon the floor, Killian rolls over to find the wardrobe is gone.

tagging: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @teamhook @bethacaciakay @let-it-raines @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @courtorderedcake @xhookswenchx @vvbooklady1256 @profdanglaisstuff @carpedzem @ekr032-blog-blog @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @kday426 @ultraluckycatnd @lfh1226-linda @sherlockianwhovian @shireness-says @superchocovian @scientificapricot @tiganasummertree @delirious-latenight-laughs @ohmakemeahercules @branlovestowrite @snidgetsafan @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @jennjenn615 @nikkiemms

#cs ff #csrt #captain swan rewrite a thon #cs canon divergence #cs neverland au #childhood sweethearts #angst #soul mates #magic wardrobes #little!emma #little!killy

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the-hilda-librarians-wife · 4 years

Text

Family Fights - Chapter Eight

Summary: Even the strongest bond, the most loving family, can be broken by nightmares, and the librarian is soon to learn this. As she learns sinister things about a person who she had thought was lost forever, she realizes she will need the help of another witch to get her family back.

Notes: Credit for the marra’s name goes to @hilda-fanblog (I think). Also sorry for how long this took, I was freaking out because of school *screams*

(chpt1) (chpt2) (chpt3) (chpt4) (chpt5) (chpt6) (chpt7) (chpt8)

The day was sunny with a light breeze, the kind of weather that made people joyous, more likely to do things to please others. That served Frida perfectly: the happier people were, the more inclined they were to buy her cookies.

She stopped in front of a yellow door, taking the time to straighten her uniform before knocking. As soon as the door was open, she began her speech with a smile on her lips.

“Good morning! My name is Frida, and I’m here in the name of the Sparrow Scouts. Would you be interested in-”

As soon as she looked up to make eye contact with her potential buyer, the carefully rehearsed words got stuck on her throat. With a look of disdain on her face, the marra who had tormented David stood at the doorway. Frida recognized her, and she knew the marra had recognized her too.

“Get on with it.” She said, her voice the same emotionless sound that Frida remembered it to be. Struck as she was by the shock, she briefly considered asking one of the other Sparrow Scouts who were accompanying her that day to speak for her, but none of them felt as comfortable doing the talking. Besides, Frida didn’t want to let her think she’d scared her.

As soon as that sale was done, though (and who would have thought that nightmare spirits enjoyed scout cookies?), Frida did excuse herself, telling the other scouts that she wasn’t feeling all too well and that she’d better go home for the day. In reality, she ran as fast as her legs would take her to Hilda’s house.

Hilda hadn’t said much about what was going on between her and the librarian. She and David did know that she was being trained in witchcraft, but when they asked her what that had to do with the Marra, and why the librarian was interested in her becoming a witch, she’d always say that it wasn’t her secret to tell. The two friends respected that. They knew Hilda trusted them and wanted to tell them, but if she felt like she couldn’t, then they’d respect it.

But as little as she knew about the matter, she was sure she’d just found out relevant information: where the Marra lived.

_#_#_#_

As soon as she’d seen Frida out of the house, Hilda turned to her mum. Johanna had silently heard the conversation between the two girls, looking at the ground while Frida told them what she had seen. Before she even closed the door, Johanna knew what Hilda wanted, and Hilda knew just as well that her mother was aware of it.

“Mum.” She said, walking closer with Twig at her heels. “I need your help.”

Sighing, Johanna let herself fall to the couch, her torso leaning forward as she supported her forearms on her tights. Even though she knew she wouldn’t be able to deny Hilda her aid, she still felt like she should try to talk some sense into her.

“Hilda… it’s dangerous.” She argued. “Besides, I can’t just break in.”

“But I’m not asking you to!” Sitting down next to her mum, she touched her back in an attempt to ease Johanna into agreeing with her. “You could just knock and… ask if they have sugar!”

Johanna lifted an eyebrow, skeptical. “Sugar?”

“Yeah! Just go over there with an excuse to talk. You could go during school hours. Even the marra needs to go to school.” Hilda rubbed her chin. “Or at least I think they do.”

Sighing, Johanna leaned back against the back of the couch, evaluating her situation. She had no experience with magic except for that which she got from Hilda’s adventurers. If there was anything dangerous in the house, she would not be able to deal with it. And for the same reason, she might not even be able to discern what would be useful for them or not.

While she was thinking about the matter, with Hilda looking expectantly at her, she felt something tickle her ear. Turning her gaze to her right to see what it was, she realized that the two of them hadn’t been alone in the living room.

“I could go with you” Alfur said, his hand still resting on her earlobe, where he’d touched her to call for her attention. “With the marra away, it shouldn’t be too hard to look around for information”

Hilda took the cue to clasp her hands in front of her heart in a pleading gesture, leaning towards her mother. “Please, mum. You two could really find something useful there. Just think about how happy Maven will if you bring her something about the marra that she doesn’t know yet…”

Sighing audibly, Johanna let her shoulders drop. “Fine. I’ll go tomorrow, while you are at school.”

“Thank you so much!” Hilda threw herself on her mother’s lap and hugged her, feeling Johanna wrap her arms around her and return the embrace. “You’re the best.”

_#_#_#_

Johanna shifted her weight anxiously from foot to foot, trying to squash the second thoughts she was having. She needed to do this for Hilda. If they could find anything that would make the spell easier, or maybe safer, then she had to take it.

“Ready?” She asked Alfur, who was holding to the neck of her sweater. When he gave her a nod, she raised her hand and knocked three times on the yellow door. Just when she was beginning to think there was no one home, a dark haired woman answered.

“Good morning!” She said with a smile. It put Johanna more at ease - at least the woman didn’t look like she was going to attack her or morph into a nightmare spirit herself. “May I help you?”

“Yes, actually! I’m new to the neighborhood, and I was wondering if we could get to know each other a little better.” She went through her memorized speech, which she’d been repeating to herself all over the walk to the house. Technically, it wasn’t a lie, and she felt happy about how natural she had sounded.

“How lovely!” The woman exclaimed while she moved away from the door frame to allow Johanna in. “Of course, my dear, of course. i was just about to have some tea, so why don’t you seat down while I put the kettle on?”

As soon as she had turned her back to her, Johanna furtively looked around for a place to drop Alfur at. He pointed to a coat hanger, from where she imagined he could slide all the way down to the floor or hop onto some other furniture. They had already agreed that if Alfur finished his search while Johanna was still in the house, he would come right back to her: but if not, Johanna would be waiting for him outside, by the corner of the block.

With this matter settled, Johanna soon was sitting down with the woman in a small table out on the back garden, where she kept cages of domestic birds. She was amazed at first by the vibrant colours of the animals, certain that many of them weren’t from their country, but then amazement gave way to distraughtness when they began singing at the top of their lungs. It sounded more like a cry for help than a melody, and Johanna had to stop herself from opening the cages of her hostess’s pets.

While the tea was being made, the woman, who had introduced herself as Loren Holt, asked her basic questions about how long she’d been living in Trolberg and what had been the reason for her coming to the town. She’d had to think fast to come up with an answer other than “house smashed by giants”, but overall it had been pleasant enough conversation.

Finally, as they sat down with steaming cups of mint tea, Johanna felt like she could begin digging for clues. It was very easy to find out the Loren was married and with a kid, who were both away at the moment. She could only imagine that it had been the daughter who opened the door to Frida, so she used the excuse of being a mother as well to show an interest in her.

Jade was a lovely girl, Loren said. She had many friends and was always ready to help people. She did well in school and still found time for family. As her mother described her, Johanna began to wonder if that was really the person she was looking for. A girl like that couldn’t possibly be a nightmare spirit, could she?

“She sounds delightful. You must be really proud.”

“I am” Loren nodded with a smile on her face.

“If that’s okay, could I see a picture of her?”

“Of course!” She said, getting up and asking for Johanna to wait for a second. Walking inside the house, she soon returned with a portrait on her hands.

“Here it is.” Johanna took the frame from her hands, its intricate metal pattern feeling cold under her fingertips. “It’s a recent family portrait.”

The girl in the middle, standing between two adults, looked exactly like Hilda had described. Blond pigtails, pale skin, and a frown on her face. Jade didn’t look at all happy to be there, and she seemed obviously misplaced; both her parents had shining smiles on their faces. Loren’s husband was a tall man with brown skin and dark hair, and dimples that appeared with his smile.

Johanna frowned. Jade looked nothing like them. She could have inherited her skin colour from her mother, but her hair colour was still completely different from what one would expect from the child of that couple. Not only that, but also her facial characteristics weren’t present on her parents either. She supposed she could have inherited her father’s lips, but the resemblance ended there.

“Forgive me, I don’t mean to be rude, but is Jade adopted?” Johanna asked, trying her best to sound curious and not suspicious. “My Hilda is adopted too.”

“Adopted?” Loren chuckled. “Oh, no! She’s our very blood.”

Biting her bottom lip, Johanna ran her fingers gently across the thin glass that protected the picture. “Are her grandparents blond, then?”

Loren laughter again, amused at the thought. “They’re most certainly not.”

It didn’t make much sense. Jade could have dyed her hair, but if that was the case, then certainly her mother would have mentioned it upon noticing Johanna’s confusion, and it still didn’t explain why they didn’t look alike. Johanna’s swallows back a sigh. This was proving to be trickier than she’d thought it would be. Besides, she realized she was being very indelicate to Loren.

“I’m sorry for all those questions, Mrs. Holt.” She apologized, giving the woman the picture back. “I was just… under the impression that she didn’t look much like you.”

Before Johanna could add that now she could see the resemblance, Loren fixed her stare on her, hard and unyielding, unlike the softness her eyes had carried throughout their meeting until that point. To Johanna’s horror, a strand of steam began to rise from her head.

“Well, you can’t have taken a good look.” Her voice was an octave lower than usual, and she spoke in a monotone. “She looks exactly like us.”

Then, the smoke suddenly stopped rising and she blinked a few times, looking like her normal self when she opened her eyes again.

“Oh, look at that!” She squeaked. “I didn’t even bring any scones!”

Johanna watched Loren walk back into her house, pressing herself against the back of her chair and breathing heavily due to the fright. Whatever was happening in this house, it was worse than she’d imagined.

_#_#_#_

“Smoke you say? That’s a typical sign of enchantment, you know.”

“Enchantment?” Hilda squealed as she sat in the couch next to Alfur.

In the end, the elf had finished his search sooner than Johanna, who’d stayed and made small talk with mrs. Holt for a long while, even if she was not fully recovered from what had happened. When she noticed Alfur climbing the table, she politely excused herself, thanking Loren for the time and saying she had a meeting to get to.

Now that Hilda was back from school, she had asked Johanna to tell her everything that happened. She’d said about the portrait, the girl’s unhappiness, the nonexistent resemblance between them, and she’d finally gotten to Loren’s reaction when she pointed that out. Alfur had been trying to get a word since Johanna had began her story, and now that he had a chance to speak, he took it.

“It’s what I’ve been trying to say!” He exclaimed. “The girl’s room is packed with information on magic. Sheets and more sheets of paper with spells, and most of them on manipulation! I would bet my favorite pen, and do realize that I do not sniff at my favorite pen, that this marra put a spell on that couple to convince them that she is their daughter!”

Hilda gasped quietly while Johanna frowned, astonished at the possibility. It was such an evil thing to do that she couldn’t bring herself to believe that a teenager would do it. Still, it made sense. There had been no pictures of Jade in the house in which she didn’t have the same age as she did now. Besides, it would explain why Loren had such a positive view of her when everything indicated she wasn’t that outstanding at all.

“But where would her actual parents be, then?” Johanna asked, pacing around the kitchen while she thought. “Why wouldn’t she be with them? If she can make someone believe she’s their daughter, surely she could get away with the marra activity.”

“Maybe she didn’t want to do this to them. Enchantment can have harmful consequences to the bespelled.” Alfur suggested.

“Maybe she ran away!” Said Hilda. “Like Myra. Maven told me once that her sister left them because of ‘opposing ideas’, whatever that means. Maybe it was the same with Jade.”

Johanna stopped her pacing suddenly, her back perfectly straight as she realized how important this information could be.

“Maven.” She said, walking to the small wooden table near the sofa, where their telephone was. “She needs to know.”

_#_#_#_

Maven had been checking out books when her cellphone rang. It took her some time to pick up, as she couldn’t simply drop the task and leave the patron in front of her waiting for his books, but she sped her pace up when she saw who was calling.

As soon as the young boy was gone with his books, leaving her alone in the circulation desk, she took the phone to her ears with anticipation and a small smile pulling on her lips. She’d barely had time to say hello before Johanna spoke, in a secretive and worried voice.

“Maven, there’s something you need to know.”

#fic: family fights #my fic #the hilda librarian #hilda fanfic #the hilda librarian fanfic #hilda johanna fanfic #hilda's mum #the marra #the marra fanfic

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dancing-the-hellfire-rumba · 5 years

Text

Dear Hannah,

Pairing: technically Destiel, but that’s not what this is about Word Count: 4.9k (wow wtf) Warnings: mentions of self-harm, cancer, shitty father John (as per usual), angst and angst and father-daughter love and angst. Summary: When Dean, strapped to a bed, coughing up a storm, catches sight of his newly-adopted baby girl, he decides that, if he is to leave this world, he has to leave something behind for his favorite person. So he writes a booklet, trying to tell her all the things he would’ve if he was alive. Author’s note: This was originally done for @welldonebeca ‘s 2019 Song Challenge but I fucked up thinking the deadline was the 31st of October instead of the 15th. Whatever the case, my prompt was movement, by Hozier, which I interpreted as Dean being fascinated by his daughter enough that he’s inspired to write a letter book to her. Of course this wouldn’t be the entire thing, but I had to keep it under wraps.

Feedback is always welcome! No beta, all mistakes are my own.

~~~~

Hannah,

Christ, it’s the third time I’m starting this. The truth is, I’m coming up with blanks as to how to actually start. This has got to be the best I’ve got.

I’ll tell you the moral of this story, my story, from the get-go. Life’s a fucking bitch, okay? I want you to know that from now. I’d try to hold back on my swearing, but I want you to know me as the person I am, the person I’ve always been. I know what having an absent, terrible father’s like, as you’ll soon see, and I don’t want that for you. I wish I could tell you all this up close, give you advice, tell you all my crazy-ass stories as the dumbass of the teenager I was, and all the shenanigans your uncle (wow, Sam really is a friggin’ uncle!), by a campfire, while you drink your first beer.

Sadly, my odds aren’t looking so great, honey. So this is all I got. I know it’ll never be enough but something is better than nothing.

Enough with the chick flick introduction, though. Let’s start.

The pen’s heavy in his hand, and it’s equal parts the mental heaviness, the weight of the task, as it is his fatigue. Dean’s really just started this. He can’t believe it. The heaviness of uncertainty, of whether or not he’ll get enough time to finish it settles on his chest like an anvil. There’s a solid chance he doesn’t make it before his time comes.

Hannah’s sitting right there, carelessly looking at the plastic, grinning stars above her crib. She’s so innocent, skin creamy, chocolaty and bright, a young, fearsome woman that’s gonna turn out to be so incredible, he’s certain. A small baby who’s soon to walk.

Dean already knows, this kid is destined for great things.

She’s gonna grow up, past the tutus and the miniature racing-car collections, she’s gonna have a movie she’ll play on repeat for ever and ever, with a song that he’ll learn by heart after having heard it so many times. She’s gonna go to high school and she’ll be bullied but she’ll learn to kick some serious ass. She’ll develop interests, she’ll have mediocre grades but a fiery passion and a love for anything alive.

She’ll, then, go to college. She’ll fall in love, with people and life itself. She’ll do what she loves most and she’ll be so damn good at it, she’ll excel.

And Dean… Dean will be nowhere near her to see all of it.

The bitterness… it makes his eyebrows stitch together, his lip curl in clear frustration and sadness. After everything he’s been through, finally finding the person he loves most and creating a full-ass apple pie life, and it’s all gonna be gone as soon as it started. Because, as he told his favorite Hannah, life’s a fucking bitch, and there’s no denying it.

As he lays there in his bed, pale as a sheet, watching her giggle for a while, reaching for the stars, soon yawning, small eyelids shutting softly and rocking just slightly, he… he falls in love with her. This tiny, tiny happy-beyond-words creature that could ask anything of him, and he’d do it, god damn it. He really would.

A giant bubble grows in his chest, a bubble that makes him feel like he’ll protect her at absolute all costs. He’ll grab the moon and fucking move it if that’s what she needs. And all she has to do is yawn and fall asleep.

A tear appears in the corner of his eye, lingering and falling down his ashy cheek. He can’t believe he brought this bright ray of sunshine to this world, and he’s about to make her live with an absent father. That he won’t get any memories with her at all. It’s torture. All of it.

He doesn’t know what else to do, so he grabs his pen with more determination. If he’s to leave her with something, it’ll be a part of him and that is that.

~~~~~

I was born on January 24th, 1979, the first son of a, dare I say, colossally unlucky family. Your uncle, Sam, my brother, is four years younger and will ALWAYS be a wimp, don’t let the height fool you. He always had terrible, shaggy hair and was always the sharpest tool in the box. Hell, the boy went to freaking LAW SCHOOL of all places! That’s kinda crazy!

My parents, your grandparents, were Mary and John.

Mary was a sweet, incredible, fearsome blonde woman, kindest of them all. She’d cut the crusts off my toast, sing Hey, Jude to me before bed and tell me angels were watching over me. (While we’re on the topic of the Beatles, make a note to listen to them. “Hey, Jude” must be your first song, but beyond the classics [Let it Be, Hard Day’s Night, I Saw Her Standing There, I Wanna Hold your hand etc] I hope “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds” will hold a special spot in your heart, much like me.)

So, Mary. Sweet Mary. She was a real badass, you know. This one time, Sammy was hungry, so I decided to make, get this, French fries. I think I was seven. She caught me getting ready to pour oil in a very hot pan. When I say she swooped in, I mean it, quite literally. I think she saved me a hand that day.

Now, about John…You’ll have to forgive the mess that I’m about to make with this, but John was a fucking sorry excuse of a father, alright? He got piss-drunk every night after Mom died, and naturally, Sam and I were the punching bags, sometimes literally. The best nights were the ones he wasn’t home.

For years, the house was silent. Sam and I tried to keep everything clean, stock up on canned food, because at times we would only have ten bucks to hold us for over two weeks. I took him to school, fed him, made sure he studied –not that I really had to- and kept John of his hair. At sixteen I picked up a shift at Bobby Singer’s garage, a man that, at this point, deserves the Dad title significantly more than John.

Whenever Sammy was sick, it was my fault. Was anyone loud? Dean’s fault. House dirty? Dean’s fault. Did we wake him up? …Let’s just say we learned not to do that.

I tried to put myself before Sam, did anything I could to protect him. There were times when that wasn’t even enough.

I dropped out of high school at seventeen. The second I saved up enough money, I rented a hole of an apartment at the other side of town, in an attempt to help Sam have a normal life, and we hauled ass out of there.

Before I tell you about our shitty apartment, let me tell you about the highlights of my high school career. Starting off with me “unintentionally” kicking a ball at my least favorite teacher’s face (and hitting him) ((Don’t take your father’s example, kid, violence isn’t the answer.)) (Did feel pretty good at the time though), making out with Jenny in the Janitor’s closet and with Arthur at the locker rooms afterhours (I don’t know what age you’re reading this at, but I sure hope it’s over 16). Also, that one time I pulled a prank at my friend, Cole. I spray painted his entire locker. He didn’t like me very much, to be honest…

~~~~~

An important story I feel inclined to share with you, would be the fact that I was once a bully.

Kids are just mean, but also, I couldn’t understand that troubles at home, traumatic pasts and anger are not to be taken out on other people who are not at fault. Instead of finding a healthy way to deal with everything that was happening at home, I decided that every happy person that was weak enough to meddle with, didn’t deserve any happiness.

I picked on a couple of people, but I think the one I will always regret will be Kevin Tran.

Kevin was a freshman when I was in junior year. He was in the Math club, the Science club and the Robotics club. He had maybe two friends, he was skinny, short, shy as hell, he drowned himself in oversized clothes and always carried a neon green book bag around, that worked on me like red cloth to a bull.

Every time I spotted the bag in the hallway, the drill would start. Shoving the poor kid against the locker, calling him names and laughing at his face for no apparent reason. I’d steal his calculators when I found out he had chemistry tests, spray paint the door of his locker and cause rib bruises from my shoving him against walls and furniture.

I soon find out Kevin was severely depressed. In fact, I saw him in the back of the school, where I’d usually go out to smoke because I thought it was cool (it’s not, it makes you light headed, unfocused and struggle to breathe. Just an all-around terrible experience, but this is just a side-note.)

It was a Friday after school. I didn’t wanna go straight home and Sam still had one more period, so I decided to go smoke and listen to some music in the back of the school building. And that’s where I found him.

I don’t know into how much detail I should go here, but Kevin was harming himself. With a small pocket knife, he sat on an old basket and made incisions on his arms, tears running down his face like a faucet. My God, Hannah, I’ve never felt like a bigger piece of shit in my life, because I knew, and I knew very well, that at least part of those incisions were caused by me.

I called out to him, and the look on his face, as he scrambled away from me, made me feel so much worse. I was the scum of the earth at that moment. I was the biggest asshole on the planet.

My initial reaction, I’ll admit, was pretty harsh. I grabbed the pocket knife out of his hands and threw it as far as possible in the grass. I grabbed a small first aid kit I had in my bag (in case anything happens to Sam), made him sit down by force and bandaged him up. He’d been reduced to sniffles by the time I was done.

Somewhere in between, I remember, he asked me why I was doing this. I didn’t answer.

Eventually, when I was done, I sat on the ground in front of him, ripping blades of grass from the ground. I apologized. Something along the lines of “I didn’t know, not that that’s an excuse. What I’m going through is not an excuse, but I hope it makes you understand that it was nothing to do with you. I’ll stop. I’m sorry. Don’t do this to yourself, man.”

That evening, Kevin was one of the very first people who found out about John. His own dad had passed away, and things at home were rough with his mom. That, along with the whole depression thing… it wasn’t a good combo.

After a solid two hours of talking with him, making amends, apologizing profusely and getting my apology accepted (which I absolutely didn’t deserve by the way,) we made it back out front.

From then on, I stopped picking on anyone. Kevin and I actually became really good friends, though we drifted apart eventually. I think he works in Google now.

This is really important. I want you to pay attention and take heed of my words. There are a couple lessons in this story.

One, be kind. Always be kind. To everyone. It doesn’t matter if they’re going through a rough time or not, the same way it didn’t matter that Kevin’s father was dead. You don’t know the other person. There’s never a reason to not be kind, if the person has done nothing to you. A smile can make somebody’s day, a compliment can go a long way, and being open and honest and kind will make people who are looking for help find you, it will make other’s lives better, and if you’ve helped even a single person, your life has been successful.

Two, never, and I mean never take your emotional pain out on yourself, or others. There are healthy ways to deal with ugly emotions. There are people who can help. Find a new hobby, as silly as it sounds. Start doing something creative, something that draws your attention elsewhere, like art of any kind, or, in my case, fixing cars. Something to keep you busy. If you’re in trouble, emotional or otherwise, there are people who love and support you, who will do their mightiest to be by your side, and if those aren’t your friends, they’re definitely your family.

Bottling up emotions, or dealing with them in horrible, unhealthy ways has been my go-to. Don’t be like me. Express yourself in different ways, and don’t keep your feelings shoved under the carpet, because it will, absolutely, unceremoniously explode, and you’ll take people down with you. And that’s when you’ll feel like the worst person in the world. The guilt, the residue of said ugly feelings isn’t worth it. Trust me.

If you make mistakes, if you hurt people who don’t deserve it, learn from it, grow, be better. Do not sink into yourself , don’t hate yourself. Apologize, make amends and move on, try to never do the same thing. It’s okay. We’re all human. The only thing that matters is that you try to be better.

No matter what, remember that I will always love you.

~~~~

So. Our apartment back in Kansas was, as I told you, a real dump. It had a tiny-ass kitchen with a miniature stove, two mattresses that were creaky and lumpy and were left there by the previous owners, as well as the TINIEST bathroom you’ve ever seen. It didn’t have shower walls, it had a shower head and a drain on the floor and was not in any way separated from the toilet. The walls of the place were peeling, the floor was tiled and cracked in a bunch of places and the humidity must’ve been over 80%.

I fucking loved that place.

On our third day there, I borrowed some spray paints from Cole, carried them in a cardboard box up the claustrophobic, green stairs, and opened the door in absolute triumph. That day, Sam and I opened the two windows, scratched the paint off the walls with two spatulas and went WILD. It must’ve been the only day Sam didn’t study.

Actually, no, now that I think about it, there was another time, when little ol’ ten-year-old Sam fell off a ledge and freakin’ broke his arm. I dumped him on Cole’s bike and pedaled to the hospital like a maniac. That was the first day he didn’t study.

Anyways, that apartment wall made our crappy little living situation a home. Our own sanctuary. We finally got agency over our lives, from staying up late, to choosing which type of dish soap we’d use because it smelled better and didn’t remind us of the terror chores once were. Eventually, we got soft blankets, books, board games, decorations… Finally, after 18 years, we’d started our lives.

I think one of my favorite memories would be coming home from my first date with a guy. I was just 18 and Benny, the dude, kissed me before I left, his fists clutching at my flannel. I was driving home with a giant, dopey-ass smile, stretching from one ear straight to the other. That same night, with new-found confidence, I told Sammy to drop his book, bought ourselves some beers and snacks, and drove to my favorite clearing.

There, right under the stars, with Sammy trying out his first beer, I told him I’m bisexual, and the cute bastard hugged me and told me he loved me no matter what. That same night, he thanked me for everything I did for him while living with John. We talked until the sun was rising.

I’ll tell you this right now, kid, in case you haven’t gotten it yet. I love Sam. Love him to bits. I raised that kid all on my own and will do anything to protect him. I know he cares for me, I know it kills him to see me like this, in a bed, pale, miserable and coughing every three seconds. I just want you to know, honey, that whatever you need, anything at all that, for some reason, you don’t want to tell Dad, you go to Sam, okay? You can trust him to be supportive, loyal, to be there for you when no one else is and to love you like you’re his own daughter and best friend. I promise you, he will always, always be there when I’m not.

That night made us grow so much closer. The lesson here, I’d say, is be bold and confident in what you believe in and who you are. Be your own, unique self, be brave, and love whoever you choose to fully and with your whole heart, without shame, ever. If you are yourself, I promise, you’ll find the people that love you for you, not the person you’re pretending to be. You’ll inspire other to be themselves.

A good example of this would be my best friend, Charlie. When I came out, I was armed to the teeth to deal with whoever wanted to bully me for that part of me. To tell you the truth, my school coming out was a mishap. It takes nothing but a risky make-out session in the janitor’s closet and nosey students that rip doors open far too violently. Nevertheless, I was literally out of the closet, fists up. And that’s exactly when I met Charlie.

With her comic book stories and her books, her bubbly personality and bright smile, she wiggled her way into our lives and permanently stayed there. She was a freshman when I was a senior, but she seemed to find sanctuary by my side, as I did by hers. She was just one of those people who clicked, you know? Far too mature and interesting for her age, with an obsession with computers, even back when they were barely even a thing.

She now lives with her long-term girlfriend, Gilda, who owns the best bakery in the state. Ask for the apple pie, you will not be disappointed.

Charlie demanded of me to tell you, first off, to watch Marvel and screw DC right to hell (with which I have to agree, though Batman still remains one of the coolest Superheroes of my childhood (and Joker, the coolest villain)). She also told me that, if you read this, go ask her for her comics, She’d love to let you borrow them and she’s certain you’ll love them. Second off, she asked of me to tell you the Impala story…

It’s not as grand as she makes it out to be, honestly. However this is the part where you’ll learn all about the one and only Bobby Singer.

Bobby was my boss, an old friend of dad’s John’s and the first person who ever saw the bruises under my sleeves. He gave me a job, a family, and later on… a car.

Bobby owns a scrapyard. He taught me everything I know about cars, including driving, and for my seventeenth birthday, he brought a dusty, beat-up car in my workspace. The hood was bent, the seats were torn, and the engine needed immediate replacing. The customer never paid the price for the compartments the garage had paid, so under store policy, the car was ours.

Hannah, I can’t exactly describe to you how long it took me to repair that car. Buying the spare parts and assembling them would’ve probably taken less time. I built her from the ground up, it took me almost a month and a half of daily, eight-to-six work, but I made it. I fixed her up. She was in prime condition, and I had completely fallen in love with her.

I finished working on her early January, dreading the moment I would see her drive away. Bobby had seen all the effort, by then I’d worked at his place for over a year. So, on the day of my birthday, I opened my locker to put on my jumpsuit, when I saw a box placed on my neatly folded clothes. I’m sure you’ve guessed it by now. Yes. It was the keys to my dream car. A beautiful, sleek, black 1967 Chevrolet Impala, the one I had brought back to life. And it was all mine.

I don’t think I’ve hugged Bobby any tighter since then. Hell, I don’t think I’ve hugged him period.

That car… That car is probably the most stable thing in my life, apart from Sam, obviously. I’ve cried in that car, I’ve escaped from my terrible past, I’ve laughed, I’ve had my first time, I’ve been through breakups and I’ve spent my best days with it. I cherish it more than any other item I know. It’s not even an item, it’s my baby. I love it almost as much as I love you.

I met your dad, and kissed him for the first time in that car.

It’s actually a pretty fucking hilarious story. Cas was on a date with this guy who was completely disgusting and creepy as hell, so in true movie fashion he decided to, get this, jump out the bathroom window and escape.

Yeah.

So just as he was running out of the bar, the guy must’ve caught wind of him or something, because he stepped outside in order to find Cas. What did your dad decide to do, I hear you ask? He ducked behind a car in the parking lot, opened the first unlocked door he found, and jumped in.

Spoiler alert. It was my car.

I was sitting in the front seat, fighting with Sam through text when the door opened. It was highly comical, watching this guy duck behind the bench seat, mumbling “oh God, oh God, oh God, please don’t see me, oh God.” I cleared my throat.

“Oh, I see you, buddy.” That’s the first thing I told him. The look on his face and the genuine yelp, made me laugh a full belly laugh, and completely forget about my fight with Sam. He apologized profusely, explained panicked what had happened and begged me to stay in my car just for a couple minutes so the guy can lose him.

Long story short, we ended up going out ourselves. I don’t know how to explain it… we just clicked immediately. Like, there was a connection. Him and his big words, his baby blue eyes, his steady, deep and rough voice… I knew right away that all I wanted was to spend time with him, learn everything he was willing to share with me.

I’m so glad to have met your Dad. He was, is and always will be one of the best, kindest, most humble and genuine people on the planet. He sees the world from such a beautiful point of view that contradicts my eternal realism (he enjoys calling me pessimistic.) He’s a genuinely great person, and I can’t wait for you to figure so out yourself, if you haven’t already.

Of course, it wasn’t all fine and dandy. Meeting his parents was hellish. Let’s just say, Chuck and Naomi aren’t… the best people. They tried really, really hard to stop us from seeing each other, and eventually, they completely disowned Cas. He doesn’t like to talk about them much. His brother, Gabriel is an asshole, but a loveable one, while his other brother, Michael, you probably don’t know about. And you shouldn’t. Let’s just leave it at that. If Cas wants to share that story with you, he’ll do it at his own time.

I’m sure there’s a lesson to be learned here. Something about, when finding your person, to keep them, fight for them, don’t stop loving them because everyone else is telling you (unless of course that person is toxic). But I don’t think I can give you solid love advice through a dumb book. Every relationship is different, and your Dad’s better at this than me anyways.

I don’t know exactly how long this thing is, by this point, but I’ve almost finished the pages of this booklet. I was really, really worried I wouldn’t finish it in time, but here we are. However many thousand words later, and I’m clueless as to how to wrap this up.

My life isn’t over yet, however it looks like it soon will be. I will confess to you, I’m scared, but most of all I’m angry. I’m angry at the world, at life and fate, if that’s even a thing, at God even. I’ve fought my whole life for peace and quiet, and right when I have found it, it’s being ripped from under my feet. Cancer fucking sucks.

No matter, my chin is up, and so are my fists. Winchesters don’t give up easy. I will fight this until my last breath, even if the chance of watching you grow up and being able to tell you everything I’ve written face-to-face, is nothing but a sliver. After all, impossible odds were always my favorite.

Sweetheart… I don’t know what to say. This might be the only thing you have left of me for the rest of your life, and it tears me up inside. Of course, I will not be able to write thirty five years of experience in a small book such as this, but this is a part of me, memories you can keep all to yourself. Ask Dad or Sam about any of it, I’m sure they’ll fill some gaps, tell you things I haven’t written.

I don’t want you to cry much, even though I’m not sure you will at all, given the fact that you’ve never met me. Either way, whether you feel or think anything of me or not, I want you to know that I love you so much. I’ve only known you for a couple of months, and, already, you’re the brightest ray of sunshine in my life.

I promise I will be by your side no matter what happens, through every milestone and hardship, I will love you from wherever I am.

Honey, please stay true to yourself. Never give up, no matter what curveballs life throws at you. There’s always reason to keep going, even if you can’t see it. Always keep fighting, ‘till your last breath, ‘cause you’re a Winchester and you’ve absolutely got this.

If there is something I want you to remember from the scribbly mess I’ve made, it’s this:

I love you. I’m proud of you. I believe in you.

Go get ‘em, tiger.

Bonus:

Tears streaming down velvety soft cheeks, dainty fingers gripping the book tightly, like her life depends on it, Hannah stares at the ceiling and groans at the mess she is. It’s the second time she read that last bit, and just as she thought she’d gotten over it, here she is, crying just as hard as the first.

She gets off her bed, pulling on her sweater sleeves. Feet in slippers, she makes her way down the corridor, knocking on the door, and opening when she gets an answer. Her fingers grip the doorknob, the other clutching the book, and she stares at the bed, watching as green eyes look up from his laptop.

“Why did you give this to me, you ass, you’re not dead,” she sobs, and Dean pushes his laptop to the side, arms opening wide to invite her in them.

“Aw honey,” he coos, a gentle, loving smile on his face. Hannah climbs on the bed and slides to his side, curling up in his arms. “It’s okay.” Fingers stroking her hair gently, as sobs wrack through the poor girl’s body. Dean almost feels bad.

Just then, Cas appears in the doorway, having heard Hannah’s cries. He sees the booklet clutched in her arms, her face buried in Dean’s neck, hidden behind her spring-curly hair. He makes eye contact with his husband, a knowing half-smile on his lips, as he leans on the doorway.

“I love you,” Hannah says, nose stuffed and running. “Thank you for not giving up on a relationship with me, even when you didn’t think you’ll survive.” Tears wet Dean’s eyes, as he presses a kiss on the crown of her head.

“I love you too.”

#dean fluff #dean angst #destiel #daddy!dean #destiel dads #supernatural au #spn fanfiction #supernatural #spn angst #spn fluff #oc

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criminalhotch · 5 years

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Curveball~A Grayson Dolan AU

A/N: Wow I wasn’t sure if I would ever post this. It’s been a long time coming. I started writing this in January when I saw an anon talking about baseball! Gray on @dolandrabbles because Brie’s anons always have amazing concepts. I hope you guys like this! This is a baseball! Gray AU! I hope you guys like it! It follows Gray in his baseball world as well as his relationship with the reader! Enjoy!

Warnings: Fluffy! Gray

Word Count:6,923

Grayson and I have been together since junior year of high school when I moved to New Jersey. He was in my English class, my best class and his worst. I eventually offered to tutor him and he accepted which I eventually found out why. He thought I was the pretty new girl who wanted to give him my time of day even if it was just for tutoring. He needed a tutor though so he could stay on the team. An F in English meant baseball season on the bench so he was so glad I decided to be his saving grace. It was his junior year and that’s when college scouts really start to look. Granted Grayson played varsity ball as a freshman and always caught the eyes of scouts but now it’s do or die. He invited me to the first home game and of course, I went. I had to see why he needed to pass so badly. To say I was surprised by his skill was an understatement. He was a triple threat. He could run, he could hit, and he was beautiful in the field. Not to mention how good he looked in that jersey especially when it wasn’t buttoned all the way, he looked like a baseball player you see on a calendar. You also can’t forget how big his ass was (and still is) in his baseball pants. It made my heart skip a beat. After the game, he asked me to be his girlfriend and I obviously said yes. Thanks to me he passed and had a winning season as well as earning the team MVP award. Scouts from all over the state were looking at him. Rutgers, Princeton, Stockton, and many more whether they be private or public. He had out of state colleges looking at him too. He loved baseball, it was his passion and he loved me, I was his world.

Senior year came quickly which meant a lot to both of us. I had to go to school and Grayson needed to get a scholarship. I loved Grayson with every fiber of my being. I made a decision with myself if the college Grayson chose had my major I would follow him there as long as he wanted me to, of course. Spring semester hit fast which meant that baseball season was right around the corner. Grayson trained daily and he never gave up. Opening Day senior year they played our arch rivals and won with a score of 6-2. I, of course, had my customized shirt for all of his games. The name of our high school team on the front and on the back read “Dolan’s Girl” with a large 7 plastered underneath it. I was his lucky girl and 7 was his lucky number. His parents, his grandparents, Cameron, and Ethan were all there to support their star player. He had an excellent game. Two hits, three RBI’s, and made an incredible play at third that astounded everyone. Scouts attacked Grayson after the game wanting to know his post-high school plans. A week later Grayson signed with Rutgers’ University.

“Congrats, Gray! I’m so proud of you!” I congratulated. “I’m so excited. They were one of my top schools” he smiled as he hugged me tightly. Later that night after the signing party I started talking about our future. “Gray?” I asked. “Yes, babe?” he replied. “I love you and I know you love me but I also know you love baseball. My grades will get me into anywhere and I already applied at Rutgers. I also have already gotten accepted. I have not pledged to anywhere so I want to know what’s going to happen with us?” I asked tears pricking at the back of my eyes, fearing his answer. “Baby, I want you to go where you want to go. If you want to come to Rutgers with me I would love that more than anything but I want you to go where you are going to be happy. Don’t let MY scholarship hold you back” he said as he wrapped his arms around me. “Gray some school isn’t going to make me happy when you already make me the happiest girl in the world” I admitted. “Well then it looks like we’re going to Rutgers in the fall then huh?” he smiled and I nodded. Grayson’s senior baseball season had its moments, both happy and sad. He was so excited for what awaited him but leaving the team he’s known for the last four years broke his heart.

The next fall we both started our freshman year at Rutger’s University. We got lucky that our schedules matched up well. We didn’t have any classes together but a lot of our breaks were at the same time so we still managed to see each other that is until baseball season started. Spring semester I really only saw Grayson once or twice a week or at his home games. It really tested our relationship but I knew we only had to make it to summer and he was pretty much mine again.

Every year after came with more trials and tribulations. Sophomore year came with more credits, more classes, fewer breaks, and less Grayson but we managed once again. Both of us knew that we were meant to be and we just had to make it through college. Everyone loved Grayson at college, he was always invited to parties and of course, I always went with him. Junior year meant buckling down and making sure everything was in order for our last year so we could both graduate on time. We ended up in the same class junior year which was a godsend. I missed my boyfriend but I knew that school and baseball were important. It’s not that Grayson ignored me or made excuses, it’s that we both had so much to do it was hard to make time but we managed nonetheless.

Senior year, Grayson and I decided to rent a one bedroom apartment about 15 minutes from campus. There was a celebratory senior party that Grayson and I had to attend. We were both so close to our degrees we could feel it. It was late August. It was warm and the whole frat house was buzzing. We both knew it was going to be one of our only chances to get sloshed all year so we did just that.

Six weeks later came fall break and I was so excited to have a couple days with Grayson all to myself. Grayson and I had gotten all of our assignments done so we would be solely focused on each other and that’s exactly what happened until I started throwing up. I spent all day Sunday emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. “Baby, are you sick?” he asked. “Maybe, but I don’t feel sick,” I said as I reached for a new roll of toilet paper then I noticed my box of tampons. “Gray?” I yelled. “Yes, babe?” he replied. “What’s the date?” I asked. “The 17th, why?” he answered and my heart fell into the pit of my stomach.I was almost two weeks late and I was so worried about getting everything caught up before fall break so I could spend time with Grayson that I totally forgot about it. “Why did you need to know the date?” he asked. “Grayson, my period is almost two weeks late” I admitted and his face fell. “I mean it doesn’t necessarily mean pregnancy right? It could be stress” he suggested. “Well, there’s only one way to find out” I shrugged as I grabbed my things and headed to the nearest pharmacy. Once I found the pregnancy tests that I wanted I went back to our shared apartment filled with nerves. After waiting the three minutes for the results I picked up the pregnancy test that sat before me. Pregnant.

“Grayson” I cried out and he came running in. “Baby, Y/N. Breathe, it’s ok. We will get through this. It’s senior year. We’re almost done then when this little one gets here we will be graduated or almost done then we can be a little family” he said. “This isn’t how we planned this all out, Gray. How did this happen?” I whimpered. “Well, we may or may not have used a condom after that party. I don’t remember. I’m sorry, baby. It’s all my fault we’re in this mess” he whispered. “We’re? Grayson, this is on me. This baby is residing in me! You don’t have to be here” I sobbed. “Y/N, do you really think I am going to leave you when you’re pregnant with my baby?” he asked, hurt filling his voice. “You don’t have to stay, Grayson. This is my responsibility, go play baseball” I shrugged. “Y/N, stop. I am not going anywhere. I promise you, I will be with you every step of the way. Going to appointments, helping you pick out names and furniture. This baby isn’t just yours, it’s ours. Maybe we’re not quite ready for it but we were meant to have this little peanut and it’s happening. This isn’t how we planned it but that’s the fun of it all. It’s going to be ok” he encouraged. “I love you, Gray. I’m sorry I tried to make you leave” I said. “No matter how hard you tried, I was never leaving you” he promised.

We were both a little scared to tell our families but we were adults, we were almost done with school, and our families knew we’d be amazing parents. They were all pretty understanding for the most part which made it all a little easier. My first trimester was filled with a lot of surprises. Turns out our little peanut turned into two little peanuts. We were having twins which was terrifying, to say the least. Grayson was excited on the other hand as his little girls would know what it’s like being a twin just like he did with Ethan. My second trimester really started to test my limits. It was a new semester and my belly was growing like a weed not to mention it was Grayson’s senior year of baseball. Thankfully, I only had my internship to go to which was on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s meaning I could go to all of his home games. I always tried when we were younger but now it was easier than ever. Freshman year for Christmas Grayson got me a Rutger’s baseball shirt with “Dolan’s Girl” on the back of it. He had to change his number because seven was already taken. He decided to do 16 because that was the day he and Ethan were born. This year for Christmas he got me a new one that was a little bigger knowing I probably wouldn’t be able to fit in it this season especially with having twins. I smiled at the thought. “You didn’t even notice” he mumbled. “Notice what? That it is huge because I am going to be a whale?” I retorted. “No, calm down. Read the back again” he said. I flipped the shirt over and instead of it saying “Dolan’s Girl” on the back it read “Dolan’s Girls”. Tears began streaming down my face before I could say anything in response. “There’s not just one of you anymore, baby. There’s three” he smiled before kissing my forehead then wiping the tears off of my cheeks. “I love you, Gray” I whispered. “I love you too,” he said.

It’s the first home game of the season and Grayson was excited. There had been talk of major and minor league scouts coming to watch Grayson and couple other seniors. We had teams from all over the country from the Yankees, to the Cubs, to the Dodgers, teams from coast to coast who were interested in him. It was exciting but scary all at the same time. I was so incredibly proud but we had two little ones to think about even if they weren’t here yet. That night after the game I brought it up to Grayson. “Hey, babe?” I asked. “Yes, dear?” he replied. “Have you thought about the future?” I started off rather vague. “Well, I know we’re going to have two beautiful little girls because they take after their momma and we will have our degrees, why?” he asked. “Well, what about baseball?” I asked curiously. “What about it?” he asked. “It’s your senior year what if a minor or major league scout wants you?” I asked scared for the answer. “I haven’t thought about it” he shrugged. “Grayson, how have you not? I think about it all the time!” I yelled. “Because I am more worried about you and our girls before this hobby I have. Baseball is a hobby, you three are my life, Y/N” he explained. “You really need to think about it before you agree to something you don’t mean to” I admitted. “What do you think I should do?” he asks. “Well, I mean you have to look at the pros and cons, Gray. You’d make really good money but there would be a lot of traveling which you’re used to that but you have little girls to think about. I mean we can move to wherever during the season and then come back to Jersey in the offseason if that’s what you want. Baseball is your passion, Grayson and I don’t want you to lose that” I explained. “Baseball was my passion. Don’t get me wrong I still love it and if I didn’t have these little peanuts to think about we’d be going to wherever they want me but it’s not just us anymore” he said. “I know, Gray. It would be hard but they’d have such a good life. We’d never have to worry and I mean they’d be so cute in the team gear. It’s up to you, Gray and I want you to do what makes you happy. If you don’t want to or think it’s a bad idea then I will support you but don’t say no because you have a family. Lots of major and minor leaguers have families. We can make it work, baby”. A couple weeks later he was picked up by a minor league affiliate from Boston. Thankfully, not too far from New Jersey. Starting the following baseball season he would play for the Double-A Team for the Boston Red Sox. They are the Portland Sea Dogs and they play in Maine which is only about 5 hours away from New Jersey. He had to continue training throughout the winter which is expected but I was definitely excited about this new chapters of our lives.

College started coming to a close quickly as we graduate in a week. Grayson only has a few more games left and then it’s the postseason. Shortly after that, the twins will be here. “Grayson I am going to look like a damn whale crossing that stage” I groaned. “Baby, you’re pregnant with twins” he smiled. “Yeah, your big ass twins. These babies are going to kill me! What if I fall? What if my water breaks?” I exaggerate. “Quit being dramatic or I am going to start calling you Ethan” he retorts and I rolled my eyes in response. “Grayson, can you believe we did it? We’re graduating college and then we’re going to be parents” I said full of shock. “I know, it’s crazy. I’ve gotten so many opportunities and there were some bumps along the way including the one you’re sporting right now but I couldn’t be happier” he smiled kissing my lips.

A week later, it was graduation day. Both of our families sat in the audience waiting for our names to be called to celebrate one of the biggest days in both of our lives. Cheers erupting after every name but when both of our names were said our families blew all of the rest out of the water. After the ceremony, we all went out to eat to celebrate all of Grayson and I’s accomplishments. Not to mention, that Ethan graduates next weekend from Stockton. We also were going to tell our families the news about Grayson’s signing because no one except us and Ethan had any idea.

“Mom, dad” I sighed. “Uh, yeah,” Grayson said rubbing the back of his head. “You guys know that baseball is Grayson’s passion. He’s played since T-ball and has loved it ever since. He played with Ethan until Ethan outgrew it but he continued. As we’ve gotten older he’s fallen even more in love with it” I started. “Y/N’s right and along the way I found my number one fan, other than my parents and E, of course” he chuckled. “Anyway, I was offered to play in a minor league affiliate for the Boston Red Sox” he announced and everyone’s faces dropped. “You’re moving to Boston!” my dad shouted. “No, sir. Nothing is happening until next baseball season. Come April I will be playing out of Portland, Maine on the Double-A affiliate team, the Portland Sea Dogs. Now, this is an amazing opportunity” Grayson explained. “It is and we have these two little ones to think about. I know it’s going to be hard for us to be away from all of you but we’re going to be moving to Portland next spring so when Grayson is home he can be with the girls. We know this is a lot but you’ve raised us to be good people and we’re adults now. I know this is going to be hard but we can do this”.

Two weeks later we had two beautiful girls. Addison Rose and Amelia Bailey Dolan. Grayson sitting right next to me missing his final game of the regular season but he didn’t care his family was much more important. A couple of days later we got to go back to our apartment. We were already looking for a two bedroom apartment to move to seems how our lease was up in July. Grayson was an incredible dad. Even on nights before or after a game he would be up at 2 am helping me with the twins. Of course, I would always tell him to go back to bed but he insisted. “I helped you make them, I help with the dirty work,” he told me every time I tried to fight him about it. Two weeks later the game was a home game, giving Rutgers the home field advantage. I was surprising Grayson. I hadn’t been to a game since before the girls were born. It was 80 degrees and the twins were doing so well. I asked his family to join me so they could watch him play because if they moved on the game would be nowhere near New Jersey. It was probably going to be their last time watching Grayson play college ball.

The girls each had little Rutgers onesies that said “Daddy’s #1 fan” on them. I met Grayson’s family for lunch beforehand then we followed each other to the field. We sat in a shaded area of the stadium so the twins wouldn’t be in the harsh rays of the sun. Grayson played third base and that’s what side we were sitting on so his back was to facing us most of the game. Which meant I got a great view of his ass in the baseball pants. It was the bottom of the second inning and he was the first one up to bat. “Up first, Grayson Dolan. Number 16” the announcer said. “Go, Gray! That’s my baby daddy!” I yelled and he looks at the noise. He smiles as he sees his small family and then the rest of his family as well. Soon enough it’s 3-2, full count minus the outs. We’ve all watched Gray long enough to know where his sweets spots are. Watching the ball soar out of the pitcher’s hands, I knew it was a good one. I knew I was right when I heard the sweet crack of his bat. I watched the ball soar until it landed in the right-field seats. Everyone roaring as my boyfriend made his way around the bases, waving at me and then our girls as he rounded second. He returned to the dugout and was attacked by his team for getting a lead early on. It was nearing the end of the game. The last inning and they were tied. 3-3 and Grayson was due up third. The first person got on with a single then managed to steal second. The next batter grounded out. Then it was Grayson. He already had one home run for the day but a single may even win this game. On the first pitch, he swung his bat hoping for yards. I watched the ball soar straight into the bleachers, this time into leftfield. He had just hit the walk-off 2 run home run to send them to Nationals. His teammates flooded home plate as the other team exited the field saddened by their loss. Everyone cheered as he crossed the plate. He made it onto the college ESPN channel a few hours later. Everyone had gone their separate ways. I was at home with the girls watching the reruns when an interview came up and it was with Grayson. “So you had not just one but two home runs today, one of them being a two-run home run to seal the win moving your team to nationals, how did that feel?” the announcer asked. “It felt great, it’s my last few games at Rutgers and my girlfriend surprised me at the game with our twin girls who are only a few weeks old so I had to score a point for all three of my girls, I just hope I did them all justice and they're proud of me” he said as a tear rolled down my face, proud was an understatement. “We are so proud of you, Gray. Aren’t we Addy Rose? Your daddy makes mommy so proud. Then look at you Lia Bug, you are just so smiley hearing your daddy’s voice on the tv” I cooed to my small children. I was so captivated by the interview and the girls, I never heard Grayson come in. “You’re either really sleep deprived or you actually are proud of me,” he said causing me to jump. “A little bit of both actually but of course, I’m proud of you. Even if you would’ve had the worst game of your life I would’ve been proud of you” I smiled as I stood up walking over to Grayson and pecking his lips. “Thank you for coming. That meant the world to me to have them go to at least one of these games, It’s the best feeling ever” he smiled looking over to our girls who were fast asleep. “They were so good, I think they love watching daddy play” I admitted. “Well they better get used to it,” he said kissing my forehead. “No, kidding”.

April came around quicker than either of us imagined. We moved into a small house with three bedrooms. One for Gray and I, one for the girls, and one as a guest bedroom when one of our families comes to visit. The twins are 10 months old and are both complete daddy’s girls. Gray started his games and practices while I stayed home with the girls. April was still a little chilly to take the girls to games but once it warmed up we would definitely go support Grayson and his teammates. He seemed to enjoy his new baseball team, he had even made a few friends which I was thankful for. One was even married with a one and a half-year-old son so they knew what we were going through.

April and May flew by. June hit and the twins turned one. My family and Gray’s both came for the weekend so we could celebrate Addy and Lia turning one. It was mind-blowing that I had one-year old’s when it seems like just yesterday when we graduating and they were being born. Gray had a day game on Sunday after the twins birthday so we all went to see him in action. Grayson had been following this passion since he was 6 when he and Ethan started in T-ball. He never lost touch with who he was and why he fell in love with baseball. In high school when we met, he only began to love it more because he knew he needed to prove that I didn’t waste my time tutoring him so he could play. The truth is even if he sucked I would have loved him anyway. He has the biggest heart, a wonderful personality, a beautiful laugh, and is one of the most amazing people I have ever met. He has turned into an even better baseball player, he is a wonderful boyfriend and an absolutely amazing father. I could not have picked a better person to follow around the country pursuing his dream.

And speaking of pursuing his dream, at the end of his first season they are already moving him up to Triple A. Unfortunately that means we have to move again. Thankfully we have a month to month lease as a lot of the realty companies understand the baseball world and work with our schedules. So during the offseason, we will be moving to Pawtucket, Rhode Island so Grayson can play for the Boston Triple-A affiliate, the Pawtucket Red Sox. I wasn’t looking forward to moving but we would be a couple hours closer to New Jersey which made everyone a little bit happier. Grayson continued to train during the offseason and he always helped with the girls as they were pushing a year and a half old. They could crawl, walk, and were talking pretty well by now. I was so incredibly proud of my little girls and even though they were identical like Ethan and Grayson we had our ways of telling them apart. Lia even though she was younger was much more caring and maternal like Grayson always was (and still kind of is) with Ethan. Addy was much more mischievous like her uncle E. Addy was the bigger twin though and she often got hurt as she was also a little more clumsy hence why Lia is so maternal. They both have beautiful personalities. Addy is loud and mischievous like a perfect mix of Ethan and Grayson whereas Lia was a little bossy but not until she was comfortable. She was a lover and leader which was a hard mix to handle sometimes. They both were spitting images of the twins but as females. They had dark and wavy/curly hair, honey colored eyes that gleamed in the sun, and Gray’s cute button nose. It looks as if Ethan and Grayson made them and I had absolutely nothing to do with it but that’s alright. They’re daddy-and their Uncle E- grew up to be very handsome men so they’ll both turn out to be beautiful girls (even though they are the most beautiful children I have ever seen but that may be a little biased). The girls love going to Grayson’s games. Lisa made them both red and navy blue tutus to wear to his baseball games along with little t-shirts that have the club insignia on the front with Dolan and number 16 on the back. I had a matching shirt to theirs and I wore blue jeans instead of a tutu whenever we went to the games to support Gray. Every time Grayson would stand in the on-deck circle the girls would yell and cheer excitedly to see what Gray would do at the plate. Even if he struck out they would yell they loved him and he did a good job. They were the best supporters Grayson could ever ask for. We’re quickly closing in on Grayson’s second year in Pawtucket. He had been performing exceptionally well. It’s his third year in the minors and we’re 25 now. The girls are almost two which is beyond crazy. They still seem to amaze me every day, all three of them. Some days are harder than others. The twins realize more when Grayson is gone as they’ve grown. Every time it turns into a meltdown. They cry usually until they both fall asleep in my arms. It’s so hard as they are still too young to understand that Grayson is leaving for a few days maybe a week then he will be back. We usually have movie marathons and popcorn on the nights he leaves and again on the nights, he comes back. Every time he walks in from the journey home he is met with two little girls dashing to the door screaming “daddy” and hugging his legs. He drops his bags, scoops them up, and then gives them all the love they have missed during his absence. “I missed you, daddy,” Lia says. “I missed you too pumpkin,” he says. “Wait no I missed you more,” Addy says. “No, I missed daddy more” Lia argues. “Girls, I know you missed me. It’s ok, I’m right here. Daddy’s tired let’s change into our jammies, snuggle on the couch, and have our movie night” he suggests as the girl's screech in excitement scrambling out of Gray’s arms. “I missed you bub,” I said. “I missed you too, mama” he smiles as he hugs me tight. “That was a rough stretch. We only won two games the whole road trip and there were 9 games” he sighed. “Did you do well?” I asked. “Yeah, I had a hit every game, a couple home runs, scored some runs, and had some good defensive plays” he explained. “Then you did your part, Grayson. You can’t control when everyone else is in a slump when you’ve done your part” I reassured. “I love you so much” he sighed as he slid his head in the crook of my neck. “I love you too, Gray. Let’s go change and watch the movies you promised the girls. We’ve missed you” I said as he removed himself from me. “Gimme a kiss first” he smirked. “Don’t have to tell me twice!”

Grayson’s third year in the minor leagues has come to end. Overall he has done really well hitting a few slumps here or there but he always pulled himself out and put himself back near the top. We were in New Jersey for a few months for holidays and the ooffseasonwhen Grayson got a call from his agent which usually meant there were trade rumors flying around which always made me a little anxious. Five minutes later Gray walked back into the room. “You want the good news or the bad news?” he asked. “Bad” I deadpanned. “The Red Sox have traded me to the Louisville Bats” he admitted and I smirk grew on my face. The bats were the Triple A affiliate for my favorite team, The Cincinnati Reds. “The good news?” I asked. “That’s the Reds affiliate which I’m sure you already know as they are your favorite team but they already said I have an invitation to Spring Training in March!” he said excitedly meaning he could make it up to the majors this year. “That’s amazing Gray!” I shouted. “You excited my first major team could be your favorite team?” he asked. “I’m ecstatic, Gray!” I yelled enthusiastically. “This is the farthest we’re going to have to move” he sighed. “Yea,h but our families are used to it. We can come home for the All Star Game break and they can come to visit whenever but I guess we’re already here we might as well tell your family the news!” I said and he agreed.

We spent the next couple months finding a place near Louisville and in February we moved in to begin the next exciting chapter of our lives. A few weeks after we moved in Grayson left for Spring Training for a month which was really hard for all of us. We were in a brand new place where I knew no one. The twins were never used to Grayson being gone for that long so it was very hard. We had nightly FaceTimes so the girls could see and talk to Grayson. This was the part Grayson hated. The few days away we got accustomed to but the whole month was a learning experience. Soon enough he came back and played a whole year with the Louisville Bats. We always hoped he would move up within the season but it just wasn’t in the stars, at least not yet. Another season went by and in the middle of it the twins turned 3. It’s the following spring and we are faced with another month without Grayson. I’m just hoping the girls have adapted enough that it gets better. We were about half way through Spring Training when Grayson called me. “Babe I have good news!” he almost yelled. “What’s that bub?” I asked. “I’m going to Cincinnati. The original third baseman got injured today in a Spring Training game so they want to bring me up. I’m starting third base this season!” he shouted. “Grayson, that’s amazing baby! I’m so proud of you Gray. You do deserve this” I congratulated. “No, baby. We deserve this” he smiled. “I love you Gray,” I told him. “I love you too, Y/N and our beautiful baby girls,” he said back.

Opening Day in Cincinnati was always extraordinary. It was like a second Christmas. Grayson was so excited to be able to experience and I was so excited to take the girls. They were excited to see their daddy on a big float with confetti and who knows what else. Later that day the game came and it went. Grayson played well. He had a single, scored a run, and had a walk so he was one for three so far in the major leagues. I was so proud of him. The first game I ever watched back in high school I knew he could go far and even if he didn’t I was so proud of him for his work ethic and determination. The first half of the baseball season flew by. Grayson had a .290 batting average which was pretty good especially as a rookie. He had two errors on the season which one of them in my opinion wasn’t an error but whatever. He got along with his teammates. They always loved and commented on his laugh. Even if they were getting blown out if Gray laughed they all felt a little better. His laugh was one of my favorite things about him and one of the first things I ever noticed about him. It’s the game before the All Star break. It’s mid-July, the twins just turned 4 last month, and I’m ready to have Grayson home for a few days in a row. Both of our families decided to fly to Cincy to watch Gray play. Grayson was usually the 5th batter and played at 3rd base so we sat on the third base side. The girls had a red tutu they wore with t-shirts that had the Reds logo on the front along with Dolan and trusty number 16 on the back. I had on a plain Reds shirt and some jean shorts. It was almost 90 degrees which was pretty cool for mid-July and the Reds were playing their rival the St. Louis Cardinals. The first inning went by quickly, three up, three down on both sides. The next inning the Cardinals scored one run of a homerun. The third inning and the fourth were both uneventful. A few hits or walks here or there but no runs. In the 5th Grayson was the 2nd person due up. The team mate in front of him ended up getting walked. I watch my boyfriend of 10 years step up to the plate and as I thought about it 10 years was a long time. It blew my mind how we weren’t married yet but we had our beautiful girls together so I didn’t mind. We live a very busy life.

Grayson had two strikes and three balls, full count when I heard a crack. The ball went flying to deep right field. It flew over the heads of the Cardinals outfielder and into the seats. He ran through the bases behind his teammate. He waved towards us as he round third blowing a kiss to the girls as ran towards home. He got the go ahead run so now it was 2-1 in the bottom of the 5th. The 6th and the top of the 7th flew by. The 7th inning stretch came and some local singer sang “Take Me Out to the Ball Game”. We all began to sit down when they finished but I saw a player run up to the mic afterwards. I quickly realized it was number 16 and that it was Grayson. “Hey, everyone this a little bit of an extended 7th inning stretch but I need to do something I have been waiting a long time to do. Y/N, baby, will you come down here and bring the girls?” he requested. I blushed as I got up and grabbed Addy and Lia’s hands to lead them to home plate where Grayson stood. We finally made it to Grayson. “Hi,” he smiled. “Gray, what is this?” I asked. “You’ll see” he grinned as he looked at me softly. He gave each of the girls a hug before he looked back to me. “Y/N we’ve been together for a long time. Part of high school, all through college, we were blessed with the most beautiful twin girls, and I think it’s time I grow a pair” he started and I knew where this was going. “Not to be cheesy but I really scored with you baby girl. All you’ve done is support from day one before we were even together and you were just my hot tutor.I have loved you for a good chunk of my life and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you like I have every day for the past 10 years. I’ve dreamed of how I was going to do this and I think playing in your favorite major league team’s stadium right before the All Star Break is a perfect time so why don’t we make this little team of ours official?” he said as he sunk down to one knee. I had the girls on either side of me as they looked all around the stadium. “Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” he asked as tears streamed down my face. “Yes, Gray. I’d love to be your wife” I nodded as he slid the beautiful ring across my finger. The whole stadium erupted as he stood up and I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I love you so much, Gray. This was so much to take in” I said. “I love you too and you deserve it” he admitted. “Addy, Lia,” I said. “Yes, mommy?” they asked. “Mommy and Daddy are getting married are you excited?” I asked. “Yes!” the shouted. “Why are they so calm?” I asked. “I told them we would get ice cream after the game if they didn’t tell you. They knew before I left this morning. That’s also why both of our families were here. I have been planning this for a couple months now. The extra practices and shit were for me to go pick out a ring” he smirked. “You little shit” I giggled. “Only for you” he smiled as we headed into the clubhouse. “Stay in here and watch the game. Now that everyone knows who you are I don’t want you getting mugged for your ring. I’m going to go play baseball now” he explained. “You do what you do best” I smiled. “Love you,” he said as he headed towards the field. “Love you more Bailey” I smiled as I looked down at my beautiful engagement ring.

Grayson and I had battled a lot of obstacles. Where to go for college, college in general, graduation, having twin girls just weeks after graduating college, his minor league career sending us all over the east coast, and now here to Cincinnati. Life sure has thrown us quite a few curveballs along the way but today was the best one I have ever gotten. Walking into the stadium today laughing with Ethan, talking to my parents, and catching up with Lisa I had no clue I would leave with a beautiful diamond on my left hand. I was so incredibly lucky to be marrying someone as amazing as Grayson. I also never thought I would get proposed to at a baseball game especially in my favorite teams’ stadium. Today was a dream come true and I couldn’t wait to plan our wedding this off season. I can’t wait to go home tonight after a Reds’ win but more importantly a Cardinal loss with my fiance and our girls. We’d always been a family but this was so surreal. I was officially going to be a Dolan, I’ve only waited 10 years for this.

#grayson dolan #ethan dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan blurbs #ethan dolan smut #ethan dolan imagine #dolan twins #the dolan twins #dolan twins smut #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins blurbs #the dolan twins blurbs #the dolan twins smut #the dolan twins imagine #grayson and ethan #ethan and grayson

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lavieendonna · 6 years

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Snapshot || ArtMajor!Ashton AU (Chapter 1)

Summary: A ‘Brushwork’ spinoff where Tillie - VCA’s resident library assistant - has to supervise Ashton - VCA’s holiday troublemaker - and she discovers that a collection of photographs is the biggest inconvenience she could have ever agreed to. Date: 7 Feb 2019 Requested: lol no Pairing: Ashton x OFC (original female character) Words: 4.9K Warnings: none! A/N: So this (and two other spin-off stories) have been in the works for... so long. It’s got a long way to go, and it’s still in an experimental phase. I wasn’t going to post this until Brushwork was completely wrapped up but I thought this might motivate me to finally tie the knot in the end of that. So let me know what you think, if you liked it, if you didn’t, if you want more... I could use all the love I can get! Big Love xo

Chapter 1: Disappointed Soccer Mum

‘So, are you coming out with us tonight?’ Wren asked, and I could tell that she was teasing me because she was already laughing at the thought of me going with her wherever, just waiting for me to say ‘no’. I rolled my eyes at the older girl, a small crooked smile finding my lips.

‘I’ll give you one guess.’ I laughed at her.

‘Thought so.’ She chuckled back, and I felt like a normal person would have been offended that Wren wasn’t in the least bit surprised that they weren’t going anywhere with her. But this happened every other night and had for nearly four years now, and we were both just used to this whole routine. Wren planned something fun, she offered for me to tag along, I politely declined and made my own entertainment for the night.

‘Well,’ Wren checked the silver watch dangling on her slender wrist before looking back down on me. I was sat at my usual spot in the very back corner booth of the restaurant, my things sprawled across the table. ‘Do you want anything before I clock off?’ I shook my head but smiled gently.

‘I’m okay.’ I told her quietly. ‘I’ll grab some leftovers before I go upstairs.’

‘You make sure you do.’ Wren gave me a stern look with a matching pointed finger and I just nodded quickly, almost afraid to disobey (even though I knew I would). She had this habit of getting a little mothering toward me about this stuff. Actually, when I thought about it, everybody in the restaurant had the same habit when it came to me.

It made sense, I guess. Harvey owned the restaurant so he was, naturally, the head of this little family situation thing he and his staff had going – I was basically part of the furniture, the way I treated the restaurant like a living room, so I guess I was kind of included in all of that. Not to mention he and Queenie had just become first-time grandparents, so to Queenie I was like her third chance at parenting.

Wren was a little different; like me, she was single and lived alone – but she was a few years older than me so she was entering that stage in her life where she just wanted to take care of somebody. I was still studying and had a bad habit of neglecting my basic human needs, so naturally I was the prime candidate for her to unleash her inner caretaker.

Wren was also essentially the closest thing I had to a “best friend”, and though she’d never explicitly said the words I knew that she was aware of how I’d ended up living in the flat upstairs. Harvey knew because he was my landlord, and Queenie knew because she was married to Harvey. But I really had this gut-deep feeling that the older couple had told Wren too. I didn’t mind too much; she never mentioned it. She and the bosses just hovered and mothered and asked me why I hadn’t eaten yet.

‘Did I just hear you turn down food?’

Queenie had come marching out of the kitchen, hairnet almost falling off of her head of greying black hair, and what looked like a tomato sauce covered wooden spoon sitting in the front pocket of her stained white apron. Her hands were on her hips, brow furrowed together with pursed lips, and I got the feeling this was what a disappointed soccer mum looked like when she stormed into the living room to find the kids playing ball in the house after she specifically told them not to.

‘Uh, yes?’ I nodded, not meaning for that to come out like a question. ‘I’m not hungry.’ That was clearly the wrong answer, I realised, as Queenie’s disapproving stare turned into one of bewilderment.

‘I haven’t seen you eat all day, Missy.’ The older woman scolded me. ‘It’s eight o’clock! You need to eat, you can’t keep starving yourself!’ I rolled my eyes, all in good faith. This was also a common occurrence.

‘I ate upstairs, I promise.’ I told her with a small, reassuring smile. ‘And anyway, I was just about to go home, right after I finish this email.’ Queenie shook her head at me, hands folding across her chest, hoop earrings hitting her neck with every shake. I could’ve bet everything I owned and then some that she was scolding me in her head. In Spanish. Loudly.

‘At least take some soup home with you.’ She said very pointedly, and before I got a chance to decline she’d taken off into the kitchen again to get the damn soup that, honestly, I probably was going to forget about and let it go off in the back of my fridge.

I chuckled quietly as I turned back to my laptop screen that was glowing bright in the dim mood lighting of the back of the restaurant. The feeling of Queenie making a fuss over me, while it made me kind of uncomfortable (even after all these years), ultimately still felt kind of nice.

The email in question, however, that sat unfinished on my screen, was starting to give me a migraine. I’d been trying to write it for a few days now, but every time I tried it sounded so… whiny. It sounded like a “why me?!” kind of email which, to be fair, was exactly what it was but I knew that there had to be a more professional way to word it.

Hi Leanne, I tried again.

I understand the situation; however, I feel that Carolyn or Stefan would be more suited for the task because…

And this was the part where I got stuck every time. I couldn’t say that Carolyn and Stefan had more experience than I did, because that wasn’t true. And I couldn’t say that I didn’t have time because Leanne was my boss and she’d been conspiring with the school’s Head Office and, you know, it was kind of their job to search me in the database and just knowthat when I wasn’t working in the library or in class that I had literally nothing else to do.

No, the truth was that I just really didn’t want to conduct community service in my library, supervising some delinquent dude who couldn’t sit still over the break. I enjoyed my solitude here, and I liked the quiet and I liked being on my own. I actually got things done when I was working alone, and if I had to babysit all semester then I could kiss all of that goodbye.

Hi Leanne, I tried one more time.

That’s fine. Please have him come to the service desk at the library at 12pm with his paperwork.

Thanks,

Tillie Daniels

Well. So much for fighting the power. I hit send and prayed to God that I wouldn’t regret it. I mean, I already kind of did, so I guess I was hoping I wouldn’t regret it even more.

After packing up my things and begrudgingly accepting the damn soup that Queenie shoved under my nose in the plastic takeaway container, I waved goodbye and called out my farewells to the rest of the staff on my way through the kitchen before I pushed through the back door that lead into the back courtyard, headed for the metal stairwell just to the left and flush with the building.

When I first moved to Melbourne after getting accepted into VCA, I nearly dropped dead thinking I was going to have to live in the actual restaurant on a stretcher in a pantry somewhere – either that or worse; that Harvey and Queenie were going to kill me in the courtyard and feed my flesh to their customers. But, no, neither of those things happened. Instead I was shown what looked like a fire escape out the back. It still seemed sketchy to me, but against all better judgement I followed the Cook and his Wife up the rickety stairs and, lo and behold, I was pleasantly surprised.

The flat wasn’t overly big, but without the unnecessary clutter of furniture and the like it looked quite spacious for what it was. The two windows in the living area were big and wide and let in so much light I didn’t really know what to do with it all. They took up most of the far wall, and in front of them were a couple of cushion-clad bench seats – very FRIENDSstyle – and the thought of curling up on one of those with a good book and some coffee got me more excited than I’d been in years. The kitchen was on small side, but it had the most gorgeous white faux-marble benchtops I’d ever seen, and the bathroom benches seemed to match too which brought great peace to my inner OCD.

The bedroom was a modest size, although I did have to buy a hundred-dollar IKEA closet for the corner of the room. It did have a tiny ensuite attached to it, though, and the little window inside had a gorgeous view that was, probably, my favourite in the whole house.

It was like there were just layers and layers of mini horizons outside of the small rectangle. There were the tops of the trees that lined the street behind the restaurant, and then behind that I could see the tops of all the buildings and town houses of all the streets that lay behind that. Off in the distance was the silhouette of the Melbourne skyline, and beyond all of that was the rest of the sky that seemed to just stretch on forever.

I locked the deadbolt of the front door as soon as I walked inside, switching on the main lights as I somewhat floated through the flat putting my things away. The soup went straight into the fridge to be forgotten, laptop on the counter in front of the only barstool I owned and my bag hung on the back of my bedroom door. I finished tidying what little mess there was in the flat, and when I felt content, I flicked the kettle on and found a Bluetooth speaker to let some gentle music float around me to fill the space.

The flat didn’t feel empty or anything, it was just a habit of mine that I had formed over the years. My whole life had been surrounded by noise – every home I’d had was noisy whether it was from music or TVs or loud conversations. These days I had the library, which had the gentle buzz of students and teachers, and the restaurant that had the rustle and bustle of staff and customers.

The flat just had me. And having control over the noise that surrounded me made the flat feel like it really belonged to me this time.

By the time the kettle finished boiling I had swapped out my jeans for a pair of warmer sweatpants and some UGGs, making a coffee carefully – despite it being nearly half eight in the evening – and finding my old, weathered copy of Mansfield Park. To say it was my favourite was a slight understatement; the spine was currently being held together with so many layers of invisible tape that it really wasn’t invisible anymore.

As I sat down on the banquette seating in front of the window my phone started to ring. I quickly put my book and drink on the coffee table beside me, pulling my phone out of my pocket to find Queenie’s number and picture lighting up the screen.

‘Queenie?’ I answered without a proper greeting, part of me worried that something was wrong with Harvey. Queenie didn’t usually ring this late, especially since she was just downstairs and I’d just seen her barely half an hour ago. Harvey was a pretty old guy (I suspected, anyway) and he’d not been well the last couple of weeks. I felt like it was pretty fair for me to think that maybe something had happened. ‘You okay?’

‘Hi, yes, everything’s fine.’ Queenie reassured me right away, though I wasn’t a hundred percent convinced. ‘Sorry, Mija, you’re probably already settled for the night.’

‘It’s fine, Queenie, I was just having coffee.’ A small lie, technically, but she didn't need to know that.

‘At this hour?’ The older woman laughed on the other side of the line. ‘Dios Mío, girl, you’ll be up all night.’ I chuckled but rolled my eyes as if Queenie could still see me – though with her Super Spanish Mother Powers I wouldn’t put it past her if she could.

‘Ah, you know me.’ I said simply. ‘You all good? Did you need me to come back?’

‘Nah, nah, stay there.’ She said gently. ‘I just wanted to ask a favour from you for tomorrow morning.’

‘Sure, Queens, what do you need?’ I picked up my coffee and had a quick sip, knowing that sometimes Queenie got carried away on the phone. Knowing my luck my coffee would be cold by the time I finished talking to her.

‘I have to take Harvey for another appointment tomorrow so we won’t be able to come in for the Leone’s delivery in the morning.’ Queenie said and my heart sank as soon as I registered the words because I knew exactly where this was going. ‘I just need you to let the girls in the back when you hear the buzzer, she’ll know what to do.’

‘Girls?’ I made a face. ‘I thought Tony and his son did the deliveries?’

‘Jules said something came up so they’re sending Rocky and Claudia instead.’

‘Huh.’ I gave a quiet sigh. ‘Alright then. What time are they coming?’

‘Probably around seven.’ I could almost hear the grimace in Queenie’s voice as she spoke and I groaned inwardly. ‘I know it’s early – I can ask someone else if it’s too much trouble, Tills.’

‘Nah, don’t stress. I can do it.’ I told Queenie as I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the migraine begin to make a comeback. ‘I have to be up early anyway.’ Another lie, but I felt like I owed Queenie this much. And regardless of that, even though I didn’t technically work for the restaurant, I was probably one of the better people she could have asked anyway.

‘Ah, gracias, Mija, really.’ Queenie gushed. ‘I owe you, okay? I’ll have Harvey cook you up something nice.’

I tried to decline the offer but, naturally, Queenie was having none of it and pretty much planned the meal there and then. Eventually she let me go and, as expected, my coffee was cold. I sighed again, taking the mug back to the kitchen to tip the rest of the contents down the drain. I wouldn’t be needing it anyway, I had to be up early apparently.

The thought of an early start as well as that stupid supervising shift in the library, the prospect of tomorrow really didn’t seem so great. Switching off the music and shutting the blinds gruffly, I hauled myself to bed and fell face-first into the pillows, almost wishing that I would suffocate before morning came.

Seven o’clock rolled around quicker than I wanted it to, but my saving grace was that both Claudia and Rocky, the Leone’s delivery boys for the day, looked exactly how I felt. Claudia had this long dark hair that was thrown up into a messy top-knot, Rocky’s shaggy (almost) pixie cut hidden under a maroon beanie. Both of them were in oversized hoodies and tights, which made me feel a hell of a lot better about my UGGs and sweater paws while I helped them unload the van into the restaurant kitchen.

‘You guys don’t really do this often, do you?’ I asked with a small laugh as I helped Rocky with a particularly heavy box of what I guessed were vegetables while Claudia took a phone call from their father, I deduced based on the fact that she was repeating ‘yes I know,Dad’ many, many times.

Rocky scoffed at my question, trying to disguise it behind another yawn.

‘I could ask the same thing,’ She said with a curt – but friendly – gesture at my feet once the box was set down on one of the steel counters. ‘Are those uniform around here or what?’

I glanced down to the UGGs on my feet and laughed.

‘Ah, no.’ I admitted. ‘No, I don’t actually work here.’ Rocky’s eyebrows shot up in a silent question. ‘I live in the flat upstairs – Queenie asked me to supervise the delivery.’

Rocky seemed to smirk at the new information, dark eyes crinkling in the corners just a little.

‘What, they don’t trust us?’ She asked me with a tilted head. I rolled my eyes at the girl, Claudia coming back around the corner (though she was still on the phone, and unimpressed by the looks of it).

‘More like they don’t trust the bozo’s in here.’ I grinned and Rocky gave a loud laugh with a slightly impressed nod before we dragged our feet back outside to the van to help Claudia with the rest of the boxes. 3

We all yawned our way through the next hour and we all sat and had coffee while the morning staff prepared for the day and before I knew it, it was almost nine and it was time for them – and me – to go back to work.

I could think of a hundred different things that I could have been doing that would have been more productive than just sitting around at the service desk in the library waiting for this Ashton guy to grace me with his presence.

At twelve thirty, when he was officially half an hour late, I’d already sent out overdue emails to half of the students in the entire university and had started stamping the new books that had been delivered earlier in the morning. That was supposed to be his job, and here I was doing it for him. In those thirty minutes, I’d looked at my watch more times than I had all year. I was aggressively unimpressed.

‘I’m looking for, uh… Tillie? Tillie Daniels.’

‘Who’s asking?’

‘Uh, I’m Ashton.’ He said. ‘I was supposed to be here at –’

‘Twelve.’ I finished for him. When I looked up at him, face rock hard and glaring daggers, he was looking down at me over the desk, shifting his weight from foot to foot sheepishly with a small smile twitching on thin lips. ‘You know you’re late, right?’

‘Yeah… I’m sorry about that that.’ He said, smile wavering (though he didn’t look away from my killer scowl, which surprised me since I was usually pretty good at making people uncomfortable with that Angry Librarian Face). ‘I woke up late and had to do a make-up test for one of my classes. Then my roommate was having a bit of a crisis, then I couldn’t find the library –’

‘Did you bring your paperwork?’ I cut him off. I wasn’t interested in his life story, I just wanted to get this over and done with. The sooner he started stamping books, the sooner I could get back to inputting the new books into the system and, more importantly, the sooner my shift would be over and I could ditch this guy.

‘Oh.’ Ashton said dumbly. ‘Yeah.’ He fumbled around in a seemingly empty satchel that hung over his shoulder for a minute or two before he produced two slips of crumpled paper and an envelope. He handed them to me and it took me a couple of moments to actually take them from him, just because I hadn’t quite finished staring.

He was wearing a loose, white muscle shirt and black board shorts, vans on his feet – with no socks, since no guy seemed to feel the need to wear socks anymore – and his blondish hair was slightly wet as it curled around his ears. I cocked an eyebrow, my fingers brushing his as I took his paperwork.

‘Couldn’t find the library?’ I questioned and the guy kind of shrugged. He didn’t seem uncomfortable, but he didn’t elaborate on it either which made me think that he hadn’t thought up a detailed enough story to continue the lie. I just blinked away the thought, trying to flatten the papers on the counter while Ashton stood there, hands in his pockets as he waited for me to read them.

One was pink and was double sided. It was a time sheet, one with a grid that I realised, without even looking at it properly, that I was going to have to sign and stamp every day for the next few months. The other was a letter from the Dean, explaining that Ashton’s presence here was mandatory. There was no way he was getting out of this, and consequently that meant I wasn’t getting out of this either.

‘What’s with this?’ I asked as I turned over the last item in my hands, trying (kind of) to smoothen out the creases while I looked for a label or stamp. But there was nothing on it, it was just an off-white, sealed, blank envelope. It barely even felt like there was anything in it. I stared at Ashton incredulously and, once again, he just shrugged without even looking bothered by it. He pulled out his phone instead and started to scroll or text or whatever, and I suppressed the urge to scream.

Usually I was pretty patient with people and strangers, but for some reason there was something about this Ashton guy that just really irked me. He was standing there, lying about why he was late and wasting my time, and then he had the nerve to mess around on his phone like he wasn’t wasting my time as well as his own.

I took a breath and counted to five in my head, trying not to snap too soon. This was already going to be a long semester – I didn’t want to make it even longer by completely throttling the guy on the first day.

‘Alright, whatever.’ I huffed, stamping the pink slip and handing it back to him gruffly. Ashton shoved his phone back in his pocket and took back the time sheet hurriedly, a flash of annoyance passing through his eyes that made me roll my own.

I took a second to glance around the area where we were to see if there was a free three feet of space for Ashton to work and shuddered inwardly when I realised that the only table that wasn’t currently being used was almost right next to me. I fluttered around for a bit, letting Ashton tap his feet and look around with a glazed over and bored expression while I stood and pushed the trolley of new books a few feet down the long librarian’s desk. I found the other School Stamp and set it down in front of a desk chair, rolling an empty trolley between his chair and mine to create two separate work stations.

‘You can come ‘round over there,’ I finally spoke again, gesturing to the small entrance gap at the opposite end of the desk. ‘You’ll be stamping the new books we got in yesterday.’

‘O-kay.’ He pursed his lips but made his way around anyway, dumping his bag next to the chair before he sat down. ‘That’s it?’

‘That’s it.’ I said shortly, picking up a textbook from the pile and sitting it in front of the blond. ‘Just open the book –’ I opened it. ‘– stamp the inside –’ I stamped. ‘– flip to the back –’ I flipped. ‘– stamp again.’ I stamped again. ‘If it has a jacket, stamp the inside of the jacket too. Stamped books go on the empty trolley; you’re here ‘til two.’

I dropped the newly stamped book onto the empty trolley before I sat myself back down in my own chair, intending to ignore Ashton for the rest of his stay here. But as I stole one last annoyed glance at Ashton, he was grimacing again.

‘Two?’ He asked, though I wasn’t sure it was really aimed at me entirely. Regardless, the whine annoyed me – probably more than it should have, but I really didn’t have time for this today. I was not in the mood.

‘I should make you stay ‘til halftwo, you know.’ I shot, unable to help the acid in my voice. ‘You were late by like thirty minutes.’

‘Yeah, you mentioned that.’ Ashton sighed, taking the first book from his full trolley very begrudgingly. ‘I just thought I’d be doing something a little more… interesting.’

There was no way this was real, like, he was not saying that right now. I’d never met somebody so obnoxious in my life.

‘Maybe you should have thought of that before you pulled whatever stunt landed you in here in the first place.’ I snapped back, and I watched as Ashton recoiled though he was smart enough not to comment.

‘Can I at least listen to some music while I do it?’ He asked with a slightly arched brow, gesturing to the headphones he’d just pulled from his pocket. I gave a small shrug but nodded.

‘Yeah, do whatever.’ I huffed and that was end of it.

With a tense silence falling between us – finally– I was able to turn back to my computer and finish sending out the emails I needed to. Despite how annoyed Ashton had made me, it was surprisingly easy to tune him out. He found a kind of rhythm for his stamping that sort of set the pace for the afternoon. It was a little slow, but it was better than him giving lip and annoying me with actual words. I would take it, I decided, and used the constant thudding to gently guide me into my own rhythm until the sound was nothing but dull background noise.

I’d progressed from emails to homework over the course of time, but when a literary analysis failed to peak my interest I moved on to a piece of writing I was in the middle of brainstorming for the school magazine. I didn’t contribute to the VCA Focus often, but the Autumn Edition was going to be published soon and the Editor in Chief, Rae, actually came to me and asked if I would write something to be featured.

It was an honour, really, I’d never actually been askedto write before. Usually I submitted things on a whim. They were weirdly popular, my pieces. I saw my poems and flash fiction pieces being talked about on the school forums and in classes more often than I thought they would. It was flattering – and exhilarating at the same time since nobody (except for Rae) knew that those pieces belonged to me.

I was never sure why, but it never really appealed to me to have my name out there. Part of it was that whenever I was writing I seemed to just dissociate from my regular self and become somebody else, and I felt like if I ever put my name onto my pieces I would lose that part of me forever. TD wasn’t Tillie Daniels. She was somebody else who didn’t know anything but writing for writing’s sake.

It wasn’t the cleverest of pseudonyms, but it was enough. There were an infinite number of students in this school with the same initials, so I still felt safe. I felt insured.

This particular piece was starting to do my head in a little bit, though; it felt like I’d been ‘brainstorming’ for days. Rae had said the theme for the Autumn Focus was something along the lines of “longing” and “desire” – but I wasn’t really sure if I was supposed to take that literally or not. Then there was the added problem that I didn’t usuallycorrespond to any particular theme when I wrote. I just wrote whatever came to me in the moment, or whatever felt right, and the Focus usually accepted anything I submitted because there wasn’t usually a set theme in mind. Rae was introducing a new system this year, for some reason, and whether she knew it or not she was messing with my own system (or, you know, lack thereof).

I was immersing myself into research and definitions, as time went by, and before I knew it, Ashton was tapping me on the shoulder and bringing my attention back to earth.

‘It’s two.’ He said simply and flatly. I just stared blankly, stealing a glance back at the monitor and then back to Ashton who was staring at me almost impatiently from where he stood on the other side of the half-full trolley of books.

‘Okay?’ I twitched my eyes ever-so-slightly, thinking Ashton would have just gotten up and left on his own. But he didn’t, he just kept staring.

‘Can I go?’ He tried again as he made a quick gesture in the direction of the library exit. I gave a nonchalant shrug and nodded.

‘Yes?’ I half-mumbled and Ashton rolled his eyes and left. I huffed, watching him sling his bag back over his shoulder and turn on his heel to wander with that obnoxious walk he had going on. I was still scowling when he turned to call over his shoulder.

‘See you tomorrow, I guess.’ He said, and he already sounded defeated.

‘Whatever.’ I muttered again, but he was already out of earshot, almost moseying out of the doors.

[ Snapshot Masterlist | Next chapter ]

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lilykong · 5 years

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NY, NY

It’s been a few days shy of 2 weeks that we’ve been living in New York. The past two weeks have felt like I’ve been living in a hazy dream. I feel functionally disassociated with my own body but cognizant of our tremendous blessings and privilege to be in this life stage, here, in NY, with all the opportunities we have been given.

The weather has been like nothing I have ever experienced. Apparently it’s a 7-year record high. Growing up in LA and living most of my 20s in the bay, I truly do not know anything about weather.

We’ve bought a significant number of furniture items but are still waiting for our actual things to be shipped from the bay. I miss my ahjummah belongings like the kitchen aid mixer, dutch oven, and baking pans, but it’s been nice living simplified with only our bare necessities.

The area of Brooklyn that we live in is gentrifying right before our eyes (so we are constantly told). We are likely the very yuppies that are doing it. To forever having mixed feelings about it.

Last night, Phil and I went to this movie theater called the Alamo Draft House, which is just around the corner from our place. It was one of the most fantastic movie-watching experiences I have ever had. The theater serves a full menu of food, snack, and drinks that gets served directly to one’s seat. We snacked on chocolate chip cookies, peppermint tea (for me), and a cocktail (for Phil), and watched The Farewell, which was a phenomenal movie I will never forget.

While I tried to reach for memories with my own grandmothers, the movie made me think about Phil’s paternal grandma first for some reason. I’ve only know Phil’s grandmother for 2-3 years, but the warmth, love, and outpour of thoughtful prayers that we have received from her feel infinite.

The movie also shed light on how disconnected we (my sister and I) had lived from our grandparents (on both sides) growing up, which is a sad reality. Not only for us, but for them, too. My sister has always felt a deep connection with our paternal grandmother, who passed away early from kidney failure. I can see why - they have similar essence and soul (not to mention, my sister gets her beautiful facial features from grandma).

My paternal grandma was pretty amazing. She got separated from her family while she was attending school away from them, when the Korean war broke out. I think she may have gotten on a boat that took her even more south, because she was told to do it for her (temporary) safety. Tragically, the country then became divided, and she was never able to travel to see her family in the north ever again. My dad told me that she wrote a note and left it in her desk telling her parents that she would be back shortly.

In the 80s, I think, there was this huge thing on Korean television, where the north and the south would let family members look for one another over TV broadcasting. So people would hold cardboard signs with their family members’ names on it, any identifying information about their physical appearance, last memories with them, etc. My grandma held a sign looking for her family, too, but she never found them. This is probably one of the most heart-breaking images I hold in my brain.

Sometimes I think about how I probably have blood relatives in North Korea, and I wonder how they’re doing. It’s insane how disconnected even one generation removed can be from its root. Like, I can’t believe how different my life has been from my grandparents’ lives, or even my parents’. Perhaps, the tendency to forget grows in proportion to the amount of privilege we gain.

Lots of thoughts today, but I’ll end here, on a brighter note that The Farewell was an amazing movie.

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vegalume · 6 years

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Title: The North Road

Author: Vega-Lume

Beta: Chicory

Series: Gundam Wing

Pairing 1+2

Cliché, thy name is Vel. Warning, tharr be sap and a smidgen of angst here.

Gundam Wing Holiday Gift Exchange 2018

Gift for @dthjoey

(I am so sorry it was so late)

Summery

After becoming stranded, Duo finds himself in to company of stranger who soon becomes more.

Please forgive any mistakes in grammar or punctuation. I did a considerable rewrite after it came back from the beta, but not wanting to make the recipient wait any longer I decided to post it as is.

The North Road

By Vel

Duo sighed and tapped the screen on his phone to bring up the GPS app again, only to have the screen dim again a second later. The little battery icon in the corner was blinking between yellow and red, showing that the device was nearly drained, and he in his infinite wisdom had packed the charger in one of his many boxes rather than putting it where he could find it right away.

His company was opening a new office and wanting a change Duo had accepted the offer to transfer. So here he was with all of his worldly possessions stuffed in his little car trying to find the tiny hotel he had planned to stop at for the night, but the GPS wasn’t working properly and thanks to the heavy snow he didn’t have a clue as to where he was now.

“This isn’t going to work,” he grumbled as the phone finally died and he still couldn’t pinpoint where in his journey he actually was. According to his time schedule he should have already reached the town where the hotel was, but he only saw trees and snow. He hadn’t even seen another car for well over an hour.

He had to have made a wrong turn somewhere.

Pulling onto the shoulder he threw on his emergency lights, popped the trunk, then climbed out into the snow. Making his way to the back of his car he rummaged around in the boxes, trying to remember which one he had put the charger in. He usually charged his phone in the kitchen, so theoretically the charger should be in one of the kitchen boxes.

“Yes!” He shouted when he found the charger in his favorite coffee mug. Not bothering to reseal the box he simply shoved everything in well enough to get the trunk closed again before climbing back into the car.

He plugged one end into the USB port and the other to the phone and waited a moment. Nothing happened. It was then he realized he couldn’t hear the heat blowing through the vents anymore.

“No…” he whined in the realization that not only was the car battery dead, but that he currently didn’t have a jump starter. He had loaned it to a colleague two weeks ago and they hadn’t given it back before he lift. In the rush to get tings packed for the transfer he had forgotten all about it.

“Shit, shit, shit!” he slammed a hand on the steering wheel.

He had about three hours until sun down and hadn’t seen a car since lunch. He could sit and wait for a car to come by, but with the battery dead there was no heat. The rapidly falling snow would also make it harder for any passing car to see him, especially with his car also being white, and he wasn’t sure how long the car would stay warm inside.

Though he hadn’t seen any other cars, he had seen fences along with cattle and other livestock.

If there were animals, there had to be people around to take care of them.

He sat in the car a while longer then made up his mind. He scribbled a note to let anyone that might find the car know that he had left because of the dead battery, and in which direction he had gone then tacked it to the steering wheel. He then bundled up again and made sure he had his phone, wallet and keys before venturing back out.

He knew it was safer to stay with the car but no one would be missing him. He didn’t have any family or anyone he would really call a friend, and he wasn’t due to start at the new office for nearly a month. They wanted to give him plenty of time to settle in before starting.

He couldn’t risk waiting that long for someone to come looking for him.

Sure that he had everything that he needed and could carry without dragging himself down, he climbed out and made sure the door was locked before heading back the way he had come.

He stayed on the road because there were no curves or dips. Even in the snow he would see a car long before there was any chance they driver could hit him.

After what felt like hours of trudging through the snow he didn’t see any cars, but the trees were thinning out and the fences were coming into view.

He walked along the one to his left until he found a locked gate, and though covered with snow he could see tire impressions in the ground.

Ignoring the ‘No Trespassing’ sign, he ducked through the wood and started following the impressions away from the road.

It seemed endless.

As the sun started to set Duo had begun to regret his decision to leave the road. Ahead there was nothing but white as far as he could see. No buildings and none of the cattle he had seen when he had driven by earlier.

Looking back he had gone far enough that he couldn’t see the fence either, but he could see darkness where the trees were and started debating on whether he wanted to try and find shelter in the trees. Though there was a greater risk of becoming lost that way. Or he could keep following the tire tracks before the snow filled them in and he couldn’t see them anymore.

With a deep sigh he fixed his eyes on the tracks and kept moving.

The sun was nearly gone when he finally saw something.

As he got closer he realized it was an outbuilding of some sort. It was too small to be a barn but didn’t look like a storage shed or anything like that.

He jogged up to it and found the wooden door was locked with a large padlock and there were no windows. He yanked the door in frustration then dropped down to sit in the meager shelter of the overhang.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, nor was he aware of the hoof beats approaching but he certainly didn’t miss it when the man in the hooded parka suddenly appeared carrying a rather large double barrel shotgun, leading a very large, dark colored horse.

He stood there, shotgun tucked along his side with the muzzle pointed down and seemed to study Duo for a few minutes before calling out to be heard over the wind, “Can’t you read?”

Duo was confused for a moment then remembered the ‘No Trespassing’ sign.

“Sorry,” Duo called back. “Um, my name’s Duo Maxwell, I got stranded on the road when my car battery died. I was looking for help.”

Though his face couldn’t be seen in the shadow of the hood, he could see the man’s head turn to look back the way Duo had come.

He grunted then said with a nod to the left, “Come on, you can warm up at the house and I’ll call someone about your car.”

“Thanks,” Duo said sincerely as he struggled to his feet. He was exhausted and hungry but thankful that his man had somehow managed to show up when he had.

Duo watched as the man slid the shotgun in a holster on the horse’s saddle, then gathered the reigns in one hand before starting off without waiting to see if Duo was following.

In the darkness he hadn’t seen it but off to his left near the trees was a cabin and just before that a large barn where they stopped first so the horse could be tended to. His host was silent as he settled the animal, making sure it was warm and comfortable before continuing on to the house.

His host opened an unlocked door and stepped inside then gestured for Duo to follow.

In the small mud room the man removed his coat and stomped his boots before opening a curtain that kept drafts from the door from reaching the warm kitchen just beyond.

His host didn’t look anything like Duo had expected. Without the parka he stood a good six inches shorter than Duo, and had a lean, wiry build that made him seem almost small in comparison to how Duo had imagined a rancher would look.

With large blue eyes and a smooth lightly tanned face, he looked quite young, though Duo expected he was older than he appeared.

His dark hair looked messy and damp and the t-shirt and sweat pants gave Duo the impression that he had jumped from the shower to see what a trespasser was doing around his shed.

Duo removed his jacket as well, hanging it on a spare peg then ventured into the bright, warm kitchen, making sure the curtain was fully closed behind him.

The savory aroma of stew and coffee made his empty stomach clench with want but he ignored it for the time being, preferring to look around.

The cabin was small from what he could see it had a cozy, homey feel. A large archway in the wall opposite of the mud room opened into the living room where an impressive store fireplace stood.

All off the walls were done in a warm, honey colored wood and the furniture looked old, like it might have belonged to his parents or even his grandparents, but was perfectly in place in the cozy house.

Venturing further he peeked around the arch before following in the direction the other man had gone. His host had moved across the room stopping at a small table that sat beside the front door, and then began leafing through the book resting on top.

Looking around, Duo spotted two doors on the other side of the room. Both were open to receive the warmth of the fire. The one closest to the kitchen was a bathroom which meant the other room was most likely the bedroom.

The man was standing just past the front door dialing a land line phone. He held the handset to his ear, listened and then said, “Yes, this is Heero Yuy out at Wing Zero Ranch. I have a man out here whose car broke down east on the North Road. He said his battery died.” He paused, listening again then turned to Duo and asked, “What kind of car?”

“A white Ford Focus,”

“A white Ford Focus,” he repeated into the phone. “No, he doesn’t seem to be,” he continued before pausing to listen again. “I’ll let him know, thanks.”

Duo sent him an inquiring look.

“Weather permitting someone should be along to check out your car tonight. If they can find it they’ll call back here.” He seemed uncomfortable having company and made an awkward gesture towards the couch, “You can sit and warm up.” He fidgeted for a second, and then disappeared back into the kitchen.

Duo couldn’t help but smile. Although he had put on a tough front out at the shed with that rather intimidating gun, his apparent shyness was actually charming and even a little cute.

But Duo got the impression that his host would not appreciate being thought of as cute.

He sank down into the comfortable sofa and held his chilled hands out to warm them while he waited for Heero to return or for the phone to ring, whichever happened first.

As comfortable as he had become he almost missed the quiet tread of bare feet as Heero slipped behind him to duck into the bedroom. He emerged several minutes later redressed in a dark flannel shirt and blue jeans. He had even put on a pair of sneakers.

“I apologize,” Heero said as he returned “I’m not used to confronting trespassers while dressed in my pajamas.”

Duo chuckled and rose to meet him, “We weren’t properly introduced. I’m Duo Maxwell, trespasser.”

The corner of Heero’s mouth twitched upwards as he shook his hand, “Heero Yuy, pajama clad rancher.” Duo’s smile widened. Heero nodded towards the kitchen, “come have some stew.”

“Thanks,” Duo replied gratefully. “I’m starved.”

“I already ate,” Heero said as he lifted the lid from a crockpot. “So you’re welcome to as much as you want.”

Taking an offered bowl, Duo filled it then carried over to the small table.

After topping off his coffee Heero joined him.

“So how exactly did you end up on the North Road?” Heero asked.

“I’m guessing it’s a back road?” Duo asked in reply, after Heero nodded he continued. “I was supposed to be on the highway but my GPS wasn’t giving me the proper directions. I’m guessing I made a wrong turn somewhere.”

“It’s not that hard around here, the wireless coverage is almost nonexistent. That’s probably way your GPS wasn’t working, and there are about thirty roads like that one. You were actually pretty lucky to end up on mine and even more lucky that you went south. Although it’s not really much more than an access road for my property, it divides the land for my cattle and helps prevent over grazing in some parts. It also makes it easier to get the winter feed truck to them when they’re on the north side. There’s nothing else north before hitting another access road, other than about 400 acres of empty grazing land and my herd of cattle.”

Duo’s face lit up, “if the tow truck can’t get to my car can you jump it with your truck?”

Heero shook his head, “My ranch hand took it into town this morning and he isn’t expected back until sometime tomorrow.”

Duo deflated a bit and focused on his stew. “This is delicious,” he said after a few bites but Heero just shrugged it off.

“It’s just something I threw together this morning.”

“Well, I think it’s fantastic.”

The faint blush on Heero’s face was nearly missed when he ducked his head and took a sip from his mug.

The phone rang then and Heero shot out of the room to answer it. He returned a few minutes later looking thoughtful.

“The truck can’t get to your car tonight, a truck plowing the main stretch blocked access and with the snow still falling, there’s no way for the tow to get down there.”

“Damn,” Duo muttered.

“You’re welcome to use my phone. Is there someone expecting you tonight?” Heero asked.

“No, there isn’t anyone waiting for me. It’s just I’m transferring for work and pretty much everything I own is sitting out on your access road.”

Heero seemed to mulling over something then said, “You’re welcome to my couch for the night and if you’d like I can saddle up Old Mac and ride out to your car and get you some of your clothing or something.”

Duo smiled at the offer, “That’s very kind of you but you don’t have to go through all that bother. I’ll be fine for one night as long as you don’t mind me sleeping in my shorts.”

The blush was back and it took all the strength Duo not to laugh at how sweet he found it.

Heero vanished into his bedroom into his bedroom again and returned quickly with an armload of bedding that he dumped on the sofa.

“The days start early around here, especially in winter. I’ll need to get to bed soon, but if you want to take a shower the bathroom is just through there,” he gestured to the door. “And you’re welcome to watch TV if you’d like.

“I’m exhausted,” Duo confessed. “Go on to bed, I’ll probably be asleep the second I lay down.”

“Goodnight then.”

“Night Heero.”

The room was still dark but comfortably warm when Duo woke to the sound of Heero puttering around the kitchen. A few minutes later the smell of fresh brewed coffee filled the room and Duo sat up. Peering over the back of the couch he spotted Heero sipping from the same mug he had used the night before as he stood by the sink looking out of the window.

Without a single glance towards Duo, Heero set the mug in the sink and left the room though the curtained off doorway.

The clock said 5:30 am.

It was over an hour later when he returned. By then Duo had showered and tidied up the sofa.

“Good morning Heero,” Duo greeted from the couch and received a true smile in return.

“Good morning, Duo. Would you like some breakfast?”

“Can I help?” Duo asked and Heero looked surprised.

“If that’s what you really want.”

Duo hopped up from the couch and went over to his new friend. “Glad to help, just show me where everything is.”

Together they settled at the table getting to know each other a little better, over toast and bowls of warm oatmeal.

Duo was just telling Heero about his new job when the phone on the living room rang and Heero hurried to answer it. A second later he turned the TV on.

“That was my sister Hilde, she works for the Forestry Services. She told me to check the news.” He explained as changed the channel, finding the 8 am news.

Joining Heero by the TV, Duo watched the bright red warning feed scroll across the bottom of the screen.

“...WINTER STORM WARNING IN EFFECT FROM 1 PM THIS AFTERNOON TO 6 AM SUNDAY...”

“Sunday is four days away,” Duo said shooting Heero a worried look.

“This Hazardous Weather Outlook is for portions of Central Orefield and Deer County. Snow will move into the area this afternoon, and continue overnight. Expected accumulations of 4 to 6 inches are likely by sunrise.”

The woman on the screen looked down at the paper she had then looked back up at the camera.

“The snow is predicted continue through Saturday evening, before ending after midnight. Additional accumulations of 3 to 5 inches are likely. In all expect close to ten inches of snow before this storm passes.”

“I need to make a call,” Heero said quietly before turning away.

Duo nodded absently, his eyes still fixed on the screen as the warning started from the beginning again.

“Quatre?” Heero said softly into the phone, “Yes I’d like to speak to Trowa.” He paused as he listened for a moment. “Yes I saw the weather… No I want you to stay in town, I can manage here. Yes I’m sure, you don’t need to be out on the road when the storm hits… Okay, I’ll see you in a few days.” He hung up and turned to where Duo was now seated on the couch. “I called Trowa, my ranch hand, and told him to stay in town. I know this isn’t what you want to hear but it looks like you’ll be stuck here for a few more days.”

Duo nodded, figuring as much.

“I need to bring the cattle down from the north so they’ll be easier to tend to when the storm hits.” Heero explained as he started for the kitchen again. “Since Trowa has the truck, I’m going to need to go out there with Old Mac and bring them across the north road. If you want to come with we can check on your car while were up there and you can get a few things.”

“Okay,” Duo agreed. “But let me help you out with the animals, at least until your hand can get back here.”

“Dress warm,” Heero said as he started for the back of the house. “I’ll go get the horse ready then come back for you. You can use whatever extra outerwear you can find in the mud room.”

Duo waited just outside the door bundled in a borrowed hat, heavy work gloves that were a little small, and his own coat. The sun was just up, washing the property in a soft blue. The snow was just fluttering in light flurries now but the thick clouds held the promise if the storm yet to come.

He could see Heero appear in the door of the barn leading Old Mac. The huge Draft horse was hitched to a flatbed sled with low, straight sides. It was clear that it was used to transport goods or feed rather than people.

Heero waved him over when he saw Duo standing out back, seeing the signal he jogged over to the man and his horse.

“I ride on Mac when he’s hitched up,” Heero said when Duo got to him. “You can ride up behind me or in the flatbed. It’s your choice.”

After eyeing the height of the horse, Duo took a step closer to the sled. “I’ll go with the sled, thanks.”

Heero seemed to understand and moved around to open the tail gate. Though the side was probably low enough to climb over, the wood was a little slick from the snow so it was safer to go through the back.

Once Duo was in and seated settled towards the front, Heero closed the gate and mounted the horse with a practiced ease.

The horse started to walk and the sled moved smoothly behind him. They didn’t travel far, stopping at the same shed Duo had tried to shelter in the night before.

Climbing down from the horse, Heero moved to the back and asked Duo to stay near the front as he lowered the tail gate again, then went over to the shed and unlocked the large door.

Inside the shed was filled with hay and sacks of feed.

“I’m just going to throw a couple of bales in the sled to encourage the herd to follow us back here since they’re more used to following the truck. Once they’re over I’ll give them a proper feed.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Duo started to move but Heero waved him off.

“It’s okay,” He said hefting the bale like it was a sack of potatoes and carrying over to the sled. He set it at the end and pushed it in. As he started over to get another, Duo scooted towards it and pulled it in farther so there was more room for the next one.

Heero added five more before doing up the tail gate, then went back to lock up. Duo settled back where he had been before and soon they were on their way again.

As they moved away from the house the ride in the sled became less pleasant and by the time they reached the gate Duo was more than happy to get out again.

Heero dismounted to unlock the gate, “Which way to your car?” He asked and Duo pointed to the right.

Heero guided the horse through the gate and closed it behind him before climbing back up and taking them down the road. They actually went right past Duo’s car without even seeing it at first. Some thirty feet or so away, Duo saw the black of a tire and called up to Heero.

The narrow road made turning the horse and sled around tricky but to Duo it was clear Heero had substantial experience and the turn was made without mishap.

A moment later they were pulling to a stop next to Duo’s car.

“You might want to tie something to the mirror to make it more visible,” Heero suggested after Duo had opened the trunk. “The tow truck will be out here right after the storm and plowed up snow might make it even harder to spot.”

“Good idea,” Duo agreed. Pulling a vibrant red t-shirt from his suitcase he closed it in the top of the driver’s door so it lay flat over the outside of the window. Hopefully it was large enough and high enough off the ground that it would remain visible through the storm.

“If you have any valuables that you’re worried about, there’s more than enough room to bring them.” Heero said after Duo threw his suitcase and a smaller duffle into the sled.

Duo thought about it for a second, then went back to the car and pulled a small cardboard box containing some pictures and mementos from the back seat and added it to the sled as well.

“There,” he said after locking the door. “There’s nothing left in there that I can’t live without.”

After Duo climbed back in Heero looked down the road trying to judge how far the car was from the side road so he could give the tow company a better idea where it actually was should they call back, then did up the tail gate again.

Soon he was up on Old Mac and they were moving once more.

They stopped yet again at the gate and Heero climbed down, then started digging through the large saddle bag.

Duo stood in the sled and called out to him, “Let me help.”

“Okay,” Heero agreed and showed him what to do.

They first unlocked the gates on each side of the road then Heero led Old Mac into the north side and well away from the entrance. When he returned he swung the gate out into the roadway and looped a rope to the end, which was then tied to the fence across the way. The action was repeated with the other gate, making a chute for the cattle to pass from one side to the other without straying down the road.

“Just stay here by the gate,” Heero instructed as he mounted the horse again. “They’re all going to come up at once when they realize I’m here with food. I’ll ride across with Mac and they’ll follow through the chute. I’ll give you a signal with they’re all through and you can close the gate.”

“Got it,” Duo confirmed and moved to the end of the gate where he could slip the loop off to close it when ready.

The snow was thickening as Heero rode off through the other gate and disappeared down an incline. Though the wind was picking up, Duo heard the animals long before he saw them some twenty minutes later.

Old Mac appeared again with Heero safely on his back, and what looked to be well over a hundred shaggy red bovines following along behind trying to make a snack of the hay in the sled.

They obediently walked through the chute into the south acreage, all herded together.

Watching Heero carefully he saw the man raise his arm as a signal and Duo quickly pulled the loop free and closed and locked the gate. Moving across the road he untied the other gate and locked the chain before gathering up the ropes and joining Heero who had rode back to pick him up.

“About half way to the house we’ll stop and you can dump the bales. The twining is safe for the cattle so you don’t have to worry about it.”

Leaving the tailgate open Duo wedged himself near the front and held on as Heero rode off towards the house, the cattle keeping up and trying to snag bites as they went.

After a while, Old Mac slowed and Heero signaled for him to dump the feed. Bracing, Duo pushed out with his feet and shoved the hay out onto the snow covered ground. Several of the bales broke open on impact and the animals ambled over and started eating.

Scooting down he pulled the tailgate closed as Old Mac continued back towards the house and his stall in the nice warm barn.

“We need to stop and grab another feed before for the cattle before heading back,” Heero informed him as the slowed by the shed. “Don’t bother yourself,” Heero said as Duo hopped out to help.

Duo just smiled and hefted up bale and carried it over as well. The weight of it was shocking, especially after how easy Heero made it look. They had to have weighed a hundred pounds or so each.

He counted around thirty bales in the sled as they moved them from the feed shed to the sled, Heero easily moving most of them as Duo just wasn’t used to carrying so much weight.

The sled was full again and they walked together as Heero led the horse away from the shed back through the gate a few yards back. They dumped the hay and a protein supplement there before going back.

It didn’t take long for the cattle to show up, and once most of them had appeared the pair started back to the barn where Heero carefully backed the horse up so the sled was parked beside a flatbed cart with large rubber tires that was clearly meant for the same purpose as the sled. Once it was right where Heero wanted it he unhooked the horse before removing the rest of the saddlery and rugging him up.

It was almost 11:30 when they reentered the house carrying Duo’s bags and the box from the back seat. As they set the items on the table they were greeted by a warmth that almost felt too hot after having been out in the cold for the last three and a half hours.

Going back to the mud room they hung up their outerwear, then Heero went to check his answering machine before switching the TV to the weather channel.

The storm warning hadn’t changed for the worse or better.

“The phone lines are down,” Heero informed him when he joined him in the living room. “I’m going to leave my cell plugged in, even though there’s no reception out here most of the time.”

He went into his bedroom then to charge the phone.

Duo glanced over to the console where the TV sat and saw his phone sitting where he had left it when he had plugged it in before going to bed.

“Want some lunch?” Heero asked when he came back and Duo nodded.

So Heero made them a quick lunch soup and sandwiches and they sat together on the sofa to watch a forensics program.

Just as the hour long show was ending an emergency signal sounded in the TV and the red message began scrolling across the screen again.

As if on cue the wind picked up causing the shutters to rattle and the snow thickened, falling heavier that it had most of the morning.

“Are you going to need to go out to feed the cattle again today?” Duo asked.

“No, but I will need to tend to Mac and the chickens hiding in the barn. The cattle won’t need anything more until tomorrow, but I will need to go out in the morning to make sure their water isn’t frozen over.”

“How do you manage to do all this on your own?”

“My sister and I grew up doing this; it’s like second nature to me. However, I don’t do it on my own all the time; Trowa is usually here to help me.”

They talked for a while longer and as the day progressed they became even more comfortable in each other’s company.

That evening Duo offered to make dinner and the surprise of Heero’s face made him wonder how often someone did nice things for him.

After supper Heero ventured out into the storm to tend to the animals in the barn and when he returned they settled on the sofa to watch a movie.

By the time it was over they were shoulder to shoulder and Duo wanted nothing more than to drop his head on the other man’s shoulder and never move again. But it was late and Heero was an ‘early to bed’ kind of man and gently excused himself for the night.

The next morning Heero had already been out to the barn and back and had started a meal in the slow cooker before Duo had even woken up.

After breakfast they bundled up again, hitched up Old Mac and started off to the pond where the cattle got their water when in the south acreage. Though it was still snowing heavily the large horse had no problems carrying them across the land and much to Heero’s relief the water was still fluid and didn’t have any ice that need to be broken up.

They took some time riding along the fence, checking for damage as best as they could as they sought out where the herd had settled themselves. Heero visually inspected the animals to make sure they were all okay before they started back to the house. Even without the sled full of feed the herd started following them back to the gate.

Like yesterday they loaded up at the feed shed and fed the cattle near the gate before heading inside and having their own lunch.

They spent another evening together on the sofa, only this time they started out with their sides pressed together.

By the third morning Duo was adapting to Heero’s routine and woke while the other man was still in the shower, so he slipped off the sofa and started the coffee. He was rewarded with the sight of Heero clad in just a towel, moving to his bedroom after the shower.

Before breakfast he joined Heero in the barn as he cleaned up and fed the horse and chickens.

Then they spent the day doing pretty much what they had done the day before, only it was more difficult now as the snow had been falling nonstop over three days, and was well over a foot deep out on the flat now.

It took them over an hour longer to get out to the pond and another hour using the tools to open it up so the cattle could reach the water. Duo couldn’t imagine Heero doing this all on his own and was beginning to think it was fate that had caused his car to die when and where it had.

Reaching the house after 4 in the afternoon, they were both grateful to have a hot meal already waiting for them.

The 5 o’clock news informed them that weather was expected to get worse as the evening progressed with an estimated accumulation of an additional 6 inches.

“I’m going to bring Mac in early and settle him for the night,” Heero announced, setting his mug on the coffee table. When Duo moved to follow Heero placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Stay and keep warm, I shouldn’t be long.”

“Want me to pick out a movie and make some more coffee?”

“Sounds good,” Heero replied with a smile then left to bring the shaggy horse in from his small sheltered yard.

Duo finished watching the news broadcast before heading to the kitchen to make another pot of coffee.

Sitting back on the sofa with a warm cup in his hand, he surfed channels for a while before setting the cup down to go to the shelf filled with books and movies, searching the titles for something they could watch when Heero got back.

It was only after he selected a title that he realized that Heero had been gone longer than he had been the night before. He only had the patience to wait another 10 minutes before heading out the back in just his coat with the laces of his boots still untied.

The barn door was open and a sliver of golden light could be seen from inside.

“Heero?” He called out after seeing Mac comfortably settled in is stall and several brown and white chickens pecking at corn spilling from a bag with a split along the side that lay near the stall door.

“Here,” Heero replied and Duo turned to see him seated on an upturned bucket with a pinched expression on his face.

“What happened?”

“I slipped coming down the ladder to the loft and landed on me feet wrong. I’ve either sprained or broken my ankle.”

“Shit,” Duo whispered in sympathy. “Do you think you could get back to the house if I helped?”

“Yes,” Heero replied so Duo helped him to his feet.

They moved slowly out the door and Heero waited, leaning against the wall while Duo turned off the lights and bolted the door. They took their time closing the distance between the two buildings and by the time they made it to the house they could barely see in the sudden white of the worsening storm.

“Sit here,” Duo instructed when they neared the dining table and Heero sat. Crouching before him, Duo removed the boot from the injured ankle as gently as he could. It was already swelling and close to twice the size it normally was.

“Do you have any bandages, something I can wrap it with?”

“There should be an Ace bandage in the first aid kit under the sink in the bathroom.” Heero replied.

It only took Duo a few moments to fetch the bandage and wrap the support bandage around the swollen appendage. He propped the foot on the other dining chair, and then a bag of peas from the freezer was wrapped in a dish towel and placed on top.

“Rest here for a bit then I’ll help you to the couch and you can prop it there on the coffee table while we watch the movie,” Duo said after taking Heero’s boots to the mud room, “Unless you would rather just go to bed.”

“No,” Heero replied quickly. “I want to sit with you and watch the movie.”

Warmly snuggled together on the sofa they watched two movies before reluctantly parting for the night. Duo helped Heero to the bedroom, getting his first real view of the comfortable room, dressed in cool, light shades of blue and grey.

“Do you need any more help,” Duo asked after Heero took a seat on the large bed.

“No, and thank you.” Heero replied. “I’ll be fine for the night.”

“Okay, goodnight then,” Duo’s voice sounded a little disappointed as he left the room, closing the door as he went.

The house was dark and eerily quiet when he woke the next day. For the first time Duo found that Heero was still asleep and a moment later he realized why. The power had gone out sometime during the night.

It was barley 6 according to the wall clock in the kitchen; the weather warning said the storm was expected to start breaking down at 6. As Duo used a match to light the burner on the gas stove he felt a pang of sadness at the idea he would be leaving soon.

He started heating the water for coffee then stood near the sink to watch the dawn wash over land through the window there, just as he has seen Heero do that first morning.

The herd was closer to the south end this morning. Though the snow was still falling he could see the dark shape of the shaggy cattle standing close together to keep warm.

Heero’s door opened just as Duo was pouring the coffee. The smile of greeting he received as Heero hobbled into the kitchen gave Duo another of those sad pangs.

“Are you okay?” Heero asked, apparently seeing something on his face that revealed how he felt.

“Yeah,” Duo replied. “I’m just wondering if the storm will actually end today like the news said.”

“Oh,” Heero said softly and took a sip of the coffee he had poured for himself. They stood together quietly, each lost in their own thoughts as they watched the day grow brighter. The snow was lighter than it had been and continued lighten as the sun rose.

“I need to go out and take care of Mac.”

“I’ll do it,” Duo said, placing his mug in the sink. “You need to keep off that foot as much as you can until a doctor has seen to it. If it’s broken, you don’t want to make it worse.”

Heero had shown him how to care for the horse the second morning, while explaining many of the other aspects of running a ranch, very much in the same way a teacher taught an eager pupil.

He agreed and so Duo bundled up and trudged through the deep snow to the barn where the big horse waited patiently for his breakfast.

It didn’t take him long to lead Old Mac around to the sheltered winter yard where he could eat the meal Heero had prepared for him the night before, then he cleaned out the stall before heading back to the house.

Heero had made oatmeal with the remaining hot water, and set out several oil lamps for light. He had also turned on a battery powered radio, listening for any news that another storm might be brewing. So far all signs showed that they could expect several nice days before another storm front would hit sometime on Friday evening.

“Mac looks happy that the snow is letting up,” Duo commented after joining Heero at the table.

“He’ll be able to go out in his paddock tomorrow if the weather continues improve,” He replied absently.

Duo took a bite of his breakfast, and then was just about to ask if something was bothering him when they heard the sound of a large truck pulling into Heero’s front drive.

Someone was knocking on the door before Heero even managed to hobble out of the kitchen.

“Heero?” A woman’s voice called from outside.

“That’s my sister, Hilde,” He explained as he started to unlock the door. “She probably got someone to drive her up here in one of the Forestry Service’s plows.”

Sure enough, Duo spotted the huge green Forestry Service plow sat rumbling at the end of the drive just before the petit woman pushed her way inside and shut the door. There was a bit of a family resemblance. They both with blue eyes and messy dark hair.

“I saw Trowa in town thins morning and he told me you had spent the storm out here alone. I’ve been calling all morning!”

“I’m fine, and I wasn’t alone. Duo has been with me though the entire storm.”

“Duo?” She asked as she spotted the stranger standing in her brother’s living room.

“Duo Maxwell,” he offering her his hand and the woman eyed him in confusion right before her eyes lit up and she snapped her fingers before pointing at him. “You own the Ford Focus Treize’s crew hauled in to town this morning, the one with the shirt in the door?”

“Yeah, that’s my car.”

“Funny, Treize didn’t say anything about you staying here with Heero.”

“I didn’t talk to him when I called it in,” Heero interjected. “I talked to Dorothy and she doesn’t work on Sunday.”

Hilde nodded in understanding, “Well Mister Maxwell, if you want a lift into town you’re more than welcome to come with me.”

“Heero hurt his ankle in the barn last night; he really should have it seen to.”

Hilde gave her brother the stink eye, “Get your boots and get in the truck.” He opened his mouth but she pointed to the kitchen and he limped away without a word. “He never would have told me,” she confided in Duo. “He hates hospitals.”

“Let me grab my bags,” Duo said turning away get them from where they sat in the corner of the living room.

“Let me help,” she said when she saw that he had three and offered to carry the box for him. He accepted, and since he was already wearing his boots they went right out to put them in the truck.

“Wufei, Heero’s coming into town with us. Can you stay here and keep an eye on things until Trowa get’s here?

“Of course,” the dark haired man in the driver’s seat replied before grabbing his coat and climbing out.

By the time the three of them returned to the house, Heero was ready to go.

“Wufei is going to stay here until Trowa gets back.” Hilde informed his as she helped him out to the truck. “I’ll pick him up when I bring you back later.”

“Thanks Hil.”

Heero sat quietly between Duo and his sister in the cab as the pair talked over him. It took almost an hour to reach town and Hilde drove the truck to the garage where Duo’s car was. She helped him with his things again.

“Thanks for taking care of Heero last night.”

“It was the least I could do after all he did for me.” Duo replied.

She smiled and clapped his shoulder before climbing back into the truck and driving away.

He didn’t get the chance to say a proper goodbye to Heero.

“You own the Ford Focus?” A tall man with auburn hair asked.

“Yeah, thanks you bringing it in for me.”

“No problem. Everything else looks fine so far. If you could give me your keys we can give it a good look over and see if anything needs to be repaired. There are no other cars needing work this morning so it shouldn’t take too long if you want to wait here. If not there’s a restaurant just down the block. You can go get a meal and then come back later.”

“I think I’ll stay,” Duo replied and the man, who introduced himself as Treize led him to a waiting area with a TV and a few vending machines.

Treize returned a while later, informing him that they only needed to replace the battery because the old one was completely dead.

The bill was settled and less than an hour after arriving in town Duo was on the road again. He had gotten directions and was finally on the proper highway.

Around 1pm he spotted the small hotel he had planned on staying at when he had gotten lost, but drove right past it. He just wanted to get home. The roads were already pretty clear and if he just kept going he should reach his destination in about six hours.

But as he neared the city the cars became more numerous, everything got louder and his progress slowed to a crawl. It was well after 10 when he finally made it to his new apartment.

It was located in a monstrous, steel gray and glass apartment building that looked more like an office than a home, and everything in the one bedroom was sharp lines and stainless steel.

He hated it.

“I’ll get a few more checks in the bank and move the moment I can,” He told himself after he had a good look around. Too tired to do much more than turn on the heat, he climbed into the bed that was designed more for style than comfort, and fell into an uncomfortable sleep.

He woke at half past 5 wondering why he was so cold, and remembered where he was.

The pang hit him again.

“Damn it,” he cursed throwing the blanket off and going over to the only bag he had brought up from the car. He took out his phone and unlocked it with the intent of calling Heero, only to realize he didn’t have his number.

Damn it!” he cursed again.

Forgoing the shower he ran a brush though his hair and threw on some clothes before grabbing his keys and phone. He rode the elevator back down to the parking area and got in his car.

Luck was with him and he missed most of the morning commute traffic making a distance that had taken 11 hours the day before take only 8 hours today. He made it back to the town of Deer Creek just after 2 in the afternoon.

He made one wrong turn trying to find the road that led to the front of Heero’s property, but recognized a landmark when he turned around.

It was almost 4 when he pulled in beside a heavy-duty rust colored pickup truck that sat in the driveway.

Taking a deep breath he walked up the freshly shoveled and salted path and knocked on the door.

It opened a moment later and Heero was there, surprise clearly written on his face.

“I never got to say goodbye and I realized that I never want to,” Duo blurted and Heero smiled softly.

“Then don’t.”

Gently he took Duo’s hand and led him inside, then closed the door.

Owari

- The horse got its name because I wrote most of this while sitting in my kitchen as my daughter did her online schooling. I was looking around the room trying to think of a name for the horse and spotted an ancient box of macaroni and cheese (Old Mac), the rest is history.

- According to Google cattle eat about 25 lbs of hay a day. The bales usually average between 55 and 75 lbs each. I rounded the weight up to 100 lbs each for the story to make it easier to figure out how many bales they had to put out for Heero’s herd of 100 animals. It was just quicker for two people to move thirty bales in bad weather than it would have been to move 50 or 60 bales.

I’l post this up on AO3 in a day or so after a beta has had the chance to look it over again

@thisweekingundamwing @thisweekingundamevents

#Gundam Wing #fanfiction #gundam wing fanfiction #duo x heero #1+2 #1x2

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jeremystrele · 3 years

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A Designer’s Japanese-Inspired Melbourne Family Home

Homes

by Lucy Feagins, Editor

‘It is so lovely to close the sliding doors and close yourself into this dark room lined with books and the leather-lined box window seat,’ says Kim. Dining table by Dario Zoureff passed down from Lou’s grandparents. Chairs sourced on Gumtree. Armchair from Space Furniture. Tall kentia palms from Lygon Street Nursery. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Kim painstakingly removed the plaster and all of the clumps of glue to expose the original brick fireplace. Couch by Jardan. Log stool by Greg Hatton. Woven lampshade found in hard rubbish. Joinery designed by Kim and built by Woodcraft Mobiliar. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Originally trained in fashion design, many of the values and principles of my interior design practice, stem from my sustainable fashion practice. My personal style philosophy is about supporting independent, local designers and buying second hand, something I also do with all of my interiors,’ says Kim. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

The best seat in the house! Joinery designed by Kim and built by Woodcraft Mobiliar. Log stool by Greg Hatton. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

This artwork was a gift from friend Jodie Zutt. ‘In our twenties she lived in Brunswick and I lived in North Fitzroy and we had a daily practice of posting creative snail mail to each other, full of drawings, photos, ideas, sewing. I still have a suitcase full of the years of letters I received from her – each an artwork in its’ own right,’ says Kim. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Low storage is part of three piece stacked vintage kimono storage unit from Kazari + Ziguzagu. Tall shelf from The Junk Company. Fencing mask from Tarlo & Graham. Storage box on shelf from The Hub General Store. Woven bag from Camberwell Market used as planter. Vases from @tombo.co. Trent Jansen for Broached Commissions Pankalangu bowl on dining table. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

Dining table passed down from Lou’s grandparents, custom made by Dario Zoureff. Italian 1950’s Stillnovo vintage pendant light sourced through @pamonodotcom. Stellar Works bar stools. Dining chairs sourced on Gumtree. Secondhand vintage frosted deco glass door found. Staircase painting by Laura Lancaster. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli

Irving Penn photo taken in collaboration with Issey Miyake. ‘Monoliths’ sculptural vases by Broached Commissions are Kim’s favourite piece in the house. The vintage fan in the lounge room has travelled with Kim to every house she’s ever lived in, even overseas. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli

The courtyard is planted with shady bamboo. Freestanding Smeg oven. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli

Timber salvaged from St Kilda pier softens the luxe black granite splashback. The bamboo courtyard and crystal-filled benchtop stone are distinctly Kim, keeping me grounded to my tropical, esoteric roots. Freestanding Smeg oven. Copper pans from Phillip & Lea. Stellar Works bar stools. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli

Old couch stuffed and re-upholstered after the renovation. Vintage art deco rug from 1stDibs. Broached Recall Monolith side table from Broached Commissions. Wall light by Apparatus studio Criteria Collection. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli

Part of Kim’s ever-growing collection of English and French stoneware and mustard jars. ‘The skull was from the Coburg Trash and Treasure Market. We became so known to the regular traders as interested in ‘weird things’ that on seeing us they would have already put aside skulls, bones, tribal arrows and other such collectables for us,’ says Kim. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli

The study nook under the stairs. ‘Circuit 1’ vertical light by Apparatus Studio available at Criteria Collection. Desk wall light found at Campberwell Markets. Tribal mask and wooden clamp from Rodwell and Astor. Vintage timber draws collected by Bhon Projects. Poliform extendable dining table. Vintage Japanese thread and spool Kazari + Ziguzagu. Blue tape dispenser The Hub General Store. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli

‘Our 8-year-old is very curious about science and the natural world. He has spent the last few years thinking he wants to be a Frog Scientist and is an avid collector of bones, skeletons, stones and shells,’ says Kim. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli

Another corner of Max’s room. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli

Vintage scallop edged mirror sourced on Gumtree. Taps by CB Ideal. Stone benchtop from a local family business just down the road: Daniels Marble House. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli

The green bathroom has onsen vibes! Small Japanese soaking tub from The Japanese Bath Company. Hanging planters from Mr Kitly sprayed with copper coloured paint. Metallic ceramic planter from Rodwell and Astor. Copper tiffins and planter from op shop and market rummages. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli

Vintage 1960’s Japanese mosaic tiles that Kim found hidden out the back of a tile shop in Preston and bought before they closed their business. Brass tray by Fog Linen from The Hub General Store. Taps by CB Ideal. Timber stool @tombo.co. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli

Painting by Emily Kame Kngwarreye passed down by Lou’s grandparents. Bed linen from Cultiver. Bed spread from Hale Mercantile. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli

‘The stonetop credenza was commissioned by Lou’s grandparents in the late 1960’s by Hungarian Jewish immigrant Dario Zoureff, who is considered one of Melbourne’s important modernist furniture designers. Lou’s brother has the armchairs and coffee table that were part of their furniture commission,’ says Kim. Indigenous sculptures were gifts to the boys from a dear friend who was living and working in Yuendumu, NT. Vintage Japanese abacas from @tombo.co. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli

The original Victorian arch in the hallway frames the ever-growing salon hang. The amazing credenza commissioned by Lou’s grandparents in the 60’s along with their dining table – both designed and made by Dario Zoureff. Vintage pendant light from Geoffrey Hatty. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli.

The cedar-clad box addition to the back of our house has extra thick roof and eaves to offer protection from the sun. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli

Collingwood colours in the 14-year-old’s bedroom! The Turbo Brown magpie artwork was his birthday gift to him a few years ago -the ‘arts version’ of supporting the game he loves. Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files. Styling – Annie Portelli

It’s hard to imagine now, but back in 2013 when this Brunswick East property was for sale, nobody wanted it. Rumour has it the property once had established olive trees along the front, which were removed in the hopes the site would be seen as a worthwhile subdivision for a townhouse development.

‘This was before Brunswick East real estate prices went crazy, and they didn’t succeed in selling the property for what they wanted. Lou stumbled across it when it was off market,’ says designer Kim Kneipp, who purchased the house with her partner Lou Weis, creative director of Broached Commissions.

A quick cosmetic renovation sustained them while Kim was pregnant, before a ‘proper’ renovation commencing in 2014. ‘We were in such a panic to nest that we essentially resigned ourselves to the quickest fabrication process imaginable, that being prefab. We added a new kitchen, dining, lounge room and upstairs parent retreat with an en suite’ says Kim.

With Kim’s styling flair, the home has grown over time to reflect the creative family who live here, including sons Felix, 14, and Max, 8.

Kim’s design explores the ‘wabi’ design philosophy, embracing elegant simplicity, and ‘a love for shadow play’, as described by Jun’ichiro Tanizaki in his book In Praise of Shadows. Rather than opening up the house to the bright northern light, large eaves and internal courtyards and zones have been created throughout, providing spaces with a softer, more diffused light, that gently track the sun’s movements throughout the day.

‘The house is mostly white with shadowy, dark zones, which creates a calm backdrop to frame our timber textures and bright green tropical garden,’ Kim says.

Also integrated into the home are details not obvious to the visitor that hold sentimental value. For example, Lou’s love of St Kilda, where he previously lived, is referenced in the salvaged kitchen timbers.

‘I have a good friend who collects recycled timbers, and I knew he had the old St Kilda Pier in his collection, so when we renovated, I bought pieces from him that were then used to make our kitchen shelves and the front face of our kitchen island,’ says Kim. ‘It was the closest I could get to bringing St Kilda to East Brunswick.’

Once appearing as a ‘respectable Victorian dame invaded by a futuristic robot’ (in Kim’s words!), the use of dark exterior paint, combined with the gradual growth of a jungle-like garden all around have softened the edges of this home, and given it a relaxed, lived-in feel. The family have also created a lush nature corridor for birds and insects here, including a frog pond for nature loving Max!

‘All of the vines and plants have softened the exterior relationship of the house and our front deck recreates my country Queensland childhood, encouraging so much conversation and interaction with neighbours and passersby,’ says Kim.

In keeping with Kim’s design philosophy, this home is humble by design, and luxurious by finish. Interiors are built to be perfectly imperfect, using materials that will age and patina over time, and textures intended to soften with wear.

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sprblie · 4 years

Text

Now i wonder if all those shadows i remember being scared of when i was a kids was like what i’m experiencing now. I slept with my parents a lot as a kids, because i was so scared of sleeping alone and of the dark. Can’t remember a majority of my childhood, but i remember laying in bed on my side and staring at the dresser and seeing a shadow hunched in front of the middle drawers. It might of been my imagination or it was some clothing or something, but it looked like a small person crouched over hugging their knees and jerking their head, and shadows (probably from head lights through the window) ghosting across the walls and ceiling. the crouching guy is most vivid tho bc i was staring right at it.

had a lucid dream where the floor was lava, lol. It was before i knew the term tho, and it was more like the bedroom changed into ratty wooden floorboards with the bed in the middle and red light and smoke started bubbling up between the boards.

also dreamed that i was at my grandparents house and my grandma was sleeping next to me and we were near the back of the house in a room that is actually a bathroom, but here it’s a small kind of decrepit bedroom fits a queen bed barely, right in the center, and a small square window right above it. The door is right across and on either side, facing me is two small picture frames with tattered brown paper. I remember the house was flying, like a few feet above the ground going fast in the cool night across a grassy field covered in wildflowers and this made me immensely sad for some reason. so i look at the picture frame on my side and just stare at it, i’m on the right side of the bed. I used to just stare at the ceiling or into the dark a lot bc i’d see lights and imagine they were bracelets or somthing that i got to pick out my favorite patterns, so i’m searching for something in this empty picture frame and suddenly the paper starts moving. It’s like a choppy old animation on coffee stained butcher paper and i’m getting sucked right into this rectangle of glass into a great marble paper hall of some roman or greek temply with the togas and the columns and it’s all lively with classical greek/roman people but the columns and floors are all cracked and dusty and some are broken and lying against the wall like it’s far into the future and these people are just ghosts. I follow this one guy briefly as he sneaks past the dining hall and towards the outside, and all the while he keeps looking at me, like i’m there too, and gesturing for me to follow him, to be quiet, to be careful not to be caught and all the while there’s just a bunch of people in the shadowy dining hall sitting at long wooden benches laughing and talking but it’s muffled and it’s rlly to dark to see any details, i just know they’re there.

i have a lot of recurring dreams in this giant museum mall and this modern library with levitating steps and a grassy clearing covered with clear plastic adn shelves upon shelvs of giant colorful plastic furniture and a bunch of rice paper dividers creating a maze with art work and things people are selling and it’s crowded and a deep dusk with smokey cool warmth and fairy lights strung up above the panels and a game where we have to keep ahead of the colors that eat up everything and someone gets stuck inthe computer room and i can’t save them and i’m heartbroken but the rest of us make it out to this giant yellow jungle gym maze and we traverse through it with men in suits chasing us till we get to this big beam leading up and we go up it and disappear over the other side and a warehouse where we live at the end of the world and there’s a system of chains and levys that go up forever that we have to climb to find food and materials but we have to be careful of the stuff hiding in the darkness bc it’s always nightme and the warehouse is so big so when we’re on the ground we shrink and hide in burrows under the dirt and we always get found at some point and chased but it’s not by monsters but by other people and the only escape i can find is this giant mirror that i jump trhough and it leads to this alien desert world or we’re driging along the highway and there submerged buldings all around us and on top of the watery roofs and graffiti are these magnificent red and golden phoenix installments made out of wood or this solitary silver tower with a spiral in the middle leading down and me and this guy are cornered by the bad guys so we have to jump into th espiral and end up in these tunnels, or the attic with the boxes and the flowers and the square in the wall that you can climb through adn it leads to the underground rollercoaster that scares the shit out of everybody, or flying and floating through alleys trying to find home, driving slowly through a crowded parking lot in a car that won’t stop, floating from roof to roof to get to my school building with it’s triangle layout and i skip out to go explor the other floors and find the large concrete room and the glowing blue static fairy people spiraling towards the center in a nostalgic haze. Lots of dreams, and a lot fo the areas are connected so the tunnels in the silver tower lead to the same place as the attic and the attic can also lead to the library which connects to the mall whch always leads to the grassy green plastic furnitre place and the art show with the fiary lights. sometimes i wish i could dream for a whole month.

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westywrites · 7 years

Text

Soulmate

Part 3

Part 1 - Part 2

@lady-redshield-writes @fieryartemispublications Third and final part! Hope you enjoy.

The damp floor made it feel like the cold was penetrating my skin right through to my bones. I grimaced as I sat up, my head hurt, and even the dimly lit room felt too bright. The room around me was filthy, I was locked in a small cage in one corner of it, the rest was filled with trash and broken furniture. It was freezing, and the air smelled like mould and musty fabric. My shirt was gone, and my pants were torn to bits. I cursed under my breath.

Across the room from me, I could see a man sitting on a chair. He couldn’t have been much older than me, and it looked like he was crying. His dark hair was dishevelled and none of his clothes fit quite right. I could see the side of his face and, where his hands weren’t covering it, it looked like he was afraid. Honestly, he looked kind of like a child, despite obviously being an adult.

“Hey,” I called, “are you okay?” I figured he was also trapped here. He jumped and turned to me. His pale eyes were wide and seemed conflicted.

“You’re awake?” he asked softly.

“Apparently,” I responded as gently as I could. “It’s alright, there’s no need to be afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you, I’m afraid of what you mean.”

“I’m not sure I understand what that means, but I promise I won’t cause you harm.”

He stood and slowly crossed the room to me. “What’s your name?”

“Everyone calls me Smith,” I said, forcing a smile. “You?”

“You don’t need to know,” he said. “Where are you from?”

“I grew up on the east side, in Harmony area, but I’ve lived downtown at the edge of downtown since I’ve been on my own.”

“In the Neighbourhood?”

“Not quite in it, but near it.” I sat back and crossed my legs, the cage wasn’t tall enough to stand in. “Are you from the area?”

“I was born near here,” he admitted like it was some kind of filthy secret.

“That’s not a bad thing, there are plenty of good people in the Neighbourhood.” He probably grew up hearing shit about where he’s from.

“I haven’t found any yet.” He wandered away from the cage and started rifling through the trash in the room. I couldn’t place my finger on why, but I couldn’t help liking this guy. There was something almost sweet about his simple, confused nature, and I had to admit he would have been very attractive if he was a little cleaner. I watched him dig through the room and wondered what he was searching for.

“I don’t think you’re going to find much useful in all this trash,” I said after a while.

“It’s not all trash.”

“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure?” I joked. He looked at me out of the side of his eye.

“Something like that.” He went back to searching. Eventually, he pulled a small piece of paper out from under a chair that was missing a leg. He held it up, and a smile grew on the edges of his lips.

“Is that paper gonna help us get out of here?”

He looked at me and furrowed his brow. “No, it’s a photo.”

“A photo of what?” I asked as he crossed the room towards me. I didn’t understand why he was so happy to have found it.

“Look see, it’s my parents,” he knelt down and showed me the faded photograph of a young couple. They were outside of a ramshackle house with a sold sign in front of it. Smiles lit up their faces. “They were gifted this house by my grandparents since they couldn’t buy it themselves.”

“My parents wouldn’t have been able to afford a house so close to downtown when they were first together either.”

“No, they could’ve paid for it,” he said simply, “but they weren’t matched.” “That’s a real shame, they look so happy together.” Bullshit like not being allowed to buy a house until you were matched was part of why I hated the system.

“No, they were criminals, dirty liars.” His voice was laced with rage. My heart started pounding. A small, bitter part of myself pointed out that it wasn’t only with fear. Part of me was drawn in by the look in his eyes. I looked away from him, confused and scared.

“Just because an absurd system says they weren’t meant destined for each other or whatever doesn’t mean they couldn’t have been happy together.” My voice wavered.

“My life has been miserable because their relationship was miserable.” He leaned against the bars of the cage. “My mother got pregnant, so my father felt obligated to stick around. They fought, and they screamed, and my father would beat her, and she would beat me.” He glared at me until I looked up at him. “The system stops things like that.”

“No, it doesn’t,” I said, thinking back on my own childhood. “My father was an asshole, and my mother suffered it in silence. My father kicked me out of the house as soon as I was big enough to stand up for myself.” I leaned towards the edge of the cage. “They were matched, and they were still miserable. Shitty people will always be shitty people, regardless of who they are with.”

“And I almost thought you were a good person when you first woke up.”

“What?”

“You seemed so nice, but to hear so much blasphemy coming from your perfect lips…” We both blushed slightly. “In some other life, we would’ve actually done so well together.” He pulled up his sleeve to show me the mark on the back of his wrist. My mark. This was the killer, why wasn’t I more afraid?

“I could never be with a killer,” I hissed.

“And I could never be with someone like you.”

“Someone like me?”

“Someone dirty,” he spat out the word dirty, “you’re dirty inside and out, leading a life like this. You commit the greatest sin of all as if it is no big deal.”

“Like your parents did.”

“An Unmatched who sleeps around…. To think you would ever be my soulmate.” He threw open the door of the cage and yanked me out by my hair. I gasped and tried to pull back, but he dug his thumb into the back of my neck, and it felt like my limbs turned to jelly. He threw me into a chair and quickly tied my wrists and ankles.

“What are you doing?” I cried out as he pulled out a knife. “Please.”

“Perhaps you’re right in some way, and the system can be wrong.” He brought the knife close to my face. “Because I know for certain this mark is a lie.” He brought the knife down, sliding it across my wrist and drawing a line through my mark. Then, slowly as I screamed and begged, he carved the mark away.

I must have blacked out from the pain. As I opened my eyes again, I pulled against the straps holding my arms to the chair. The motion brought searing pain to the back of my wrist. I curled forward, cursing as I tried to steady the uneasiness of my breathing.

“Everyone reacts differently to pain.” I jumped and looked over at him. I hadn’t noticed him standing in the corner watching me. “It’s quite fascinating really, how everyone will squirm, but not everyone will beg for it to end. Perhaps they know deep down that they deserve it.”

“No human deserves to be tortured,” I hissed. His eyes were bright in the dim lighting of the basement, and I couldn’t help but notice the shadows under his jawline as his lips curled into a sarcastic grin. The slight heat that rushed to my cheeks just made me hate him more.

“Then they shouldn’t be living like animals.” He pushed away from the wall and knelt beside me. “You shouldn’t be living like liars and criminals and filthy fucking bastards.” His sudden grip against the wound on the back of my wrist made me groan.

“Haven’t you ever met someone nice?” I asked trying to force my words to be soft, trying to get under his skin. “Someone kind? Someone who is everything your father wasn’t?”

“I always thought that would be my soulmate.” The statement was an accusation.

I ignored it. “Haven’t you ever felt love for anything?”

“Can’t say I have.” He met my eyes, and all I could see was disgust. I flinched away slightly. “This world doesn’t particularly allow for it.”

“Yes it does,” I said. I took a deep breath to steady myself and leaned as close to him as the restraints allowed. “I loved someone you know. He was strong and brave and unbelievably kind.” My voice wavered as I tried to keep calm. “And you killed him.” I could feel my anger rising in my chest, biting at the back of my throat.

“Which one was that?” He blinked at me dully. “Everyone from the Neighbourhood is the same, all dirty sinners.” His voice held a practiced lack of tone.

“His name was Remi, if you grew up around here, you would have gone to school with him.” He would’ve gone to school with most of the people he killed actually. He would’ve known them all his whole life, and he killed them with no remorse.

“Ah, I know the one,” he said, a weird grin growing on his lips again. “He told me an interesting story as he sat in that cage, he said that he already knew his soulmate.” He leaned in and placed a hand on my shoulder. “His true soulmate he said.” His grin grew as I tried to stop the tears appearing in my eyes. “He said that he went to these clubs with his soulmate because the ones downtown were dry.” I bit my lip and looked down at my lap. He laughed as if he had won some small victory from me. “Remi was a fascinating enough person, shame he was a filthy liar, shame he screamed so much when he died. Actually, remind me of your name, Smith, right?” He pulled my chin up with two fingers, and I stared him dead in the eye. “I remember now, that’s what he cried out as he died. ‘Oh Smith, Smith, love of my life’,” he laughed again, “quite pathetic to hear from a mouth filled with blood.”

“You’re a monster.” My words came as a horrible jumble through the tears now streaming down my face.

“Look who’s talking.” With that, he stood and brought his elbow down onto my head.

When I woke again, I was alone in the room. The straps on the chair were undone, and I cautiously stood. Frantically, I began to search the room. I had a sinking feeling that there was no way I was going to make it out of this alive. After a desperate search, I managed to find a pencil and an old receipt. I scrawled out my message as quickly as I could, praying to a god I didn’t even believe in that it would be found. I signed it off and wrote one last thing at the bottom. A noise from by the door made me jump. Shit. I rushed to the small window, trying to pry it open enough to slide the note out. My fingers just slipped off. I shoved the note in my pocket.

“And what do you think you’re up to?” he asked, his tone soft, but angry. I turned slowly as memories of my father flashed through my mind. I felt like a young boy facing his punishment again.

“It’s stuffy in here, I wanted air.” Even I knew it was a pathetic lie.

“What’s in your pocket?”

“Probably some lint.”

“Stop lying.” He crossed the room briskly, and I flinched back against the wall. I couldn’t bring myself to fight, I couldn’t even make myself move. It felt like all my muscles had seized up there against the wall of that dingy basement. He reached into my pocket and pulled out the note.

“Please…”

“I promise you, Jaime, I didn’t do this. I hope you can forgive me.” He laughed. “Seriously? Here’s an idea, why don’t we write a better note? I’m done in this city anyways.”

He tore the receipt to pieces and went to a cupboard, quickly fishing out a scrap of paper. I looked at the door and back to him. Now was my chance. Before I could make it more than a few steps, he had latched onto my wrist. The pain of his fingers digging into the wound made my knees buckle.

“Now write.” He held me by my hair and forced me to write what he dictated. It was phrased like a suicide note. Like a confession. When I refused to write that I killed anyone, he drove his foot into my side. Over and over until I was coughing up blood.

“You’re going to kill me.”

“That’s the plan.” He forced me to sign off with a plea to be forgiven for doing my duty to this world. The note was tear-streaked and blood-stained in the end.

“No one is going to believe I killed myself,” I reasoned as he went back to the cupboard.

“They will once I’m done.” He turned back, a pistol in one hand. “All I have to do is leave one of the other bodies around, it’ll look like they almost succeeded in escaping, and you, realizing you were dying after they beat you, decided to end your life quickly.”

“You really think that will work?” Each word caused a stabbing pain in my chest. His kicks must have done some real damage. Each breath I took was agony.

“Yes,” he said simply. “Besides, if it doesn’t I’ll be long gone anyways.” He knelt down in front of me and pointed the pistol at my chest. “Say bye Smith, you’ll be in Hell with your filthy lover soon enough.”

Heat spread quickly across my chest. Heat and pressure. It took a moment for the pain to come. I looked up at him as he smiled. The heat was too much, and now it hurt. Like a red-hot poker being shoved through my chest. I fell forward. Black flooded the edges of my vision.

I could hear him moving around me, he placed something beside me. He moved something else. I swear he whistled slightly as he moved around. As if moving through mud, I managed to stick my arm out. He had put the pistol beside me. Fighting to keep awake, I wrapped my hand around it and looked up. Through graying vision, I saw the look of shock on his face as I pulled the trigger. Three shots and he fell. A smile spread across my face as I watched him lying there. In some sick way, the system was right. I laughed as I shut my eyes, it was right.

We were meant to spend the rest of our lives together, just not in a way anyone could have imagined.

#west's words #original story #writeblr #writers on tumblr #am writing #creative writing #Soulmate #I'm decently pleased with how this turned out

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