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lokilickedme · 4 years ago

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The Queen of Springtown

I’m going to tell you a story. It’s a true story. There’s a bit of conjecture here and there to fill in empty spots, but not a lot. It’s a story about my grandmother - my paternal grandmother, not my maternal grandmother - I feel the need to specify who exactly it is because mom’s mom has a bit of a story too, but that’s for later.

This one’s about the one I’m going to call Elizabeth. Elizabeth was her middle name, it was a family name, it belonged to her mother and her grandmother I believe, though I didn’t know any of those people so I couldn’t swear by it. The family records are long gone if they ever existed.

Elizabeth’s last name was one of those romantically ridiculous names that still clung to old families at the turn of the century. It had a lot of extraneous letters at the end, a handful of unnecessary and partially silent sounds that looked beautiful in the flowery handwritten script of the time, a noble sounding -eaoux that did little more than tag a fancy sounding o onto the back end. A lot of fuss for such a little piece of sound. And when Elizabeth’s grandfather moved his family from France to Ireland and signed the manifests upon arrival in the new old land, he dropped the -eaoux and shortened the family’s name to four tiny letters and a single syllable. They were Irish now.

Elizabeth’s father carried the new name and the new heritage, and when he was of age he went and married an Irish beauty named - yep, Elizabeth. They say she was redheaded and blue eyed and fair skinned, though no pictures exist to prove it. All that exists is my grandmother, who supposedly looked just like her mama. She didn’t remember Ireland...she was too young when her daddy moved his family to a new land just like his own daddy had done, and she never really told anyone she was Irish. No one actually knew, once her parents were gone.

But you could tell. She looked it - flame red hair, china blue eyes, fair skin. She had the bones of whatever French nobility had been in her lineage from way back, but her colors were the Emerald Isle all the way. A beauty like you’d see in the movies, petite and ladylike and perfectly put together.

But my god that woman had a wild streak that dated right back to the Celts whose blood made up half of what she was.

(continued under the cut because long story)

So Elizabeth grew up in America, the daughter of an Irish mother and a French father. She had brothers and sisters, quite a few, though I never knew any of them. I believe I met two of them when I was too young to remember much about the encounter, but I’ve always found it hilarious that one of her sisters was named Bill. Bill, like the man’s name. I never found out why and I’m not entirely sure there was ever actually a reason. It was just one of those things.

The newly American family settled in Texas. And when Elizabeth was very young - probably not yet in her 20′s, though nobody knows for sure just how old she actually was because it’s likely she tended to fib a bit about her age to get into places she had no business being - she got herself involved with the Texas mafia.

Now let me tell you a thing or two about the Texas mafia. It wasn’t an official operation - not like the Italian Mafioso or the Eastern Syndicates or whatever the hell was going on between Florida and Cuba at the time. But it was every bit as dangerous and vicious and bloody and corrupt as any of those bigger organizations, and it was led for the most part by a man I’m going to call Big Joe.

This was the early 1940′s or thereabouts. Elizabeth was a party girl - up for anything, always out and about, girl-gang at the swing club, the works. And Big Joe saw her in the club one night, it may very well have been his club she was dancing at, and the proverbial first-sight thing kicked him hard in the gonads. This girl was a looker, and she was dancing with everyone in the place, whooping it up, living life like tomorrow it was all going to take a header into the sea. He had to have her.

And he did.

Big Joe was likely in his late 30′s, maybe early 40′s. There’s not a lot of information on him other than a handful of facts mentioned once and only once by my grandmother to my aunt - that Big Joe was a handsome man, big and tough and a snazzy dresser, and he always had enough money in his pocket to take Elizabeth anywhere she wanted to go and buy her anything she wanted to buy. And Elizabeth, party girl extraordinaire, was all up for that.

So Elizabeth and Big Joe become a thing. Everybody knows she’s his squeeze - and suddenly not a male soul in Dallas or the surrounding metropolitan areas will dare to lay an eye on her, not even a quick glance, because she’s Big Joe’s girl. And that means something. Elizabeth doesn’t know quite what it means because she’s likely not even 20 yet, but Big Joe is fun and romantic and he takes her on trips and buys her nice clothes. He buys her a ring, a blood red garnet, a ring that I inherit many decades later. He’s going to marry her, he says. She doesn’t care much one way or the other, she’s having too much fun dancing every night in his club, traveling with him, going shopping, rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous of the Southwest. She’s all but a star, protected and adored. Big Joe’s men follow her everywhere she goes when she’s not with him. And Big Joe starts going out of town without her a lot, taking care of business that he never tells her the details of.

She’s cool with that. He’s a businessman, that’s what he’s always told her. Things to take care of out of town. The Boss. He has a lot of operations to oversee, operations that make all that money he spends on her.

She has no idea what he actually does.

All she knows - or cares to know - is that when he comes back to town he ushers her around town in his big fancy black car, buying her furs and expensive dinners, showing her off to society. When he isn’t slapping her around...but hey, that’s part of the deal isn’t it? It’s the 1940′s, and Big Joe is very much a man of the era. Women grew up knowing they’d have to take the back of a man’s hand from time to time, and Elizabeth knew which side her bread was buttered on. She kept Big Joe happy, put a smile on his face, did the old grin-and-bear-it on the rest of it.

And then one night Big Joe comes banging on her door. He’s frantic. He pushes a set of keys into her hand - keys to the fancy black car that takes her everywhere - and tells her to keep it there, at her house. Don’t drive it anywhere, just keep it there. He’ll contact her soon and tell her what to do.

He leaves in another car with one of his men, and that’s the last time Elizabeth ever sees him.

A few weeks later she gets a letter from Big Joe telling her to drive the car into Grapevine Lake, on the far side by the shoals. Don’t open the trunk, he says. Put a brick on the gas pedal and put it in drive. Do it at night and make sure nobody sees you.

That night Elizabeth picks up her best friend and they drive the car to Grapevine to do as Big Joe said, sinking it in the murky green water on the far side of the lake. The two girls - just girls, barely even women yet - stand on the shore watching it disappear into the deep dark.

A week later Big Joe is shot to death. A deal gone bad maybe, or a competitor moving into the territory. Nobody really knows - grandmother never said. Don’t think I haven’t done my research...I know what I know, and according to a nearly nonexistent little trove of newspaper articles microfiched in a tiny little library in Azle Texas that isn’t even there anymore, odds are very likely that Big Joe went down in a shootout with the Dallas Police Department.

Elizabeth never opened the trunk of that car. At least she said she didn’t...it’s one of the many things that nobody ever knew or will ever know, because once she shut the door on that part of her life and moved on, it might as well have never happened. Getting this much out of her was outrageously difficult. Thanks to my very tenacious and very persevering aunt, what I’ve just told you managed to survive. It’s very likely my aunt was the only person she ever told, and it’s very likely I in turn am the only person my aunt ever told. And now my aunt is in her 70′s and in poor health, and this little unknown family story has started poking around at the back of my skull. I don’t want it to be lost. I don’t like the idea of soon being the only person alive who knows it. It’s not a spectacular story, but it’s testament to the fact that extraordinary things happen to ordinary people, probably more often than you’d think - and that those ordinary people sometimes take it all to the grave with them.

Elizabeth - my dad’s mom, my grandmother, the one I look like and act like and laugh like, the one whose cheekbones and eyes and hair and size I was born with, passed away twenty-something years ago. She lived through some extraordinary things. After the demise of Big Joe she married an oil roughneck, one of the semi-transient oilfield workers that were prevalent in the Texas Panhandle at the time, and had two children with him - one of whom was my father. The roughneck was the epitome of the James Dean romantic brooding bad boy type, handsome and manly, but unfortunately also a scoundrel who had a second family in another city that he went to every other month when he traveled to another rig for work. She left him when she found out. It was almost unheard of at the time, a young mother taking her two little kids and leaving her husband to be on her own, but she did it. And when my father was 12 she met and married a very tall, very handsome, very Cary Grant-esque railroad worker who loved life every bit as much as she did.

They were together for the rest of her life. I’ve never to this day seen two people more in love than Elizabeth and Jesse. I spent many summers in Texas with them and not a night went by that I couldn’t hear them giggling in the next room after lights-out, talking and laughing quietly until granddad’s wallshaking snores echoed through the house. It just about killed him when her heart gave out. But she was old, and she’d lived a life worth living. There was nothing in her face in those final moments that could ever convince anyone she wasn’t ready and willing to go when the time came.

I’d been married for a couple of years when she died, and my husband and I traveled to Texas for the funeral. The first night there, as my aunt brought out grandmother’s jewelry box and told me to take whatever I wanted, the story was passed from her to me. And when it was all told I opened a little drawer in the bottom of the jewelry box and pulled out an old garnet ring that I’d seen before, when I was a small child snooping in grandma’s stuff. I’d always been fascinated with it...it just looked like it had a story to tell. That’s it, my aunt said. That’s the ring he gave her. That’s all she ended up with.

It was the only thing I took.

The church was so full the next morning you’d have thought it was the final sendoff for some local celebrity. Everybody loved my grandmother, everybody, but this was sort of astounding. Some of them I knew from my childhood, from many many summers spent in the Panhandle, but people came from all over to say goodbye and nobody in the family knew who a lot of them were. They just showed up, some of them cried, some just stood in the back of the church all stoic in black suits. Some were very old. And when it was over and I turned around to watch a group of distinctly important-looking old gentlemen quickly and quietly leave the building, I looked over at my aunt and pointed at them. She arched her eyebrows in that way she always did, that way, the way that said What did I tell you?? - and I wondered if maybe all those years ago some of Big Joe’s men hadn’t pulled that car out of Lake Grapevine and found the trunk empty.

I mean...this is Elizabeth we’re talking about.

#true story

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ravenbrenna09 · 5 years ago

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Party in the Forbidden Forest

I tried.

Note: There are numerous changes that I’ve made to the typical wtFOCK storyline to make due. For starters, Aaron is going to be around the entire time and so is Sander (and Bel!Yousef, when I get his bloody name). Also, Sander, Senne, and Noor (and other characters around that age) were knocked back a year so I wouldn’t have to do a ton of manipulating to allow Robbe’s ‘season’ to be before Sander graduated. This section takes place at the end of Zoë’s season, meant to be the party where she gives Senne the key to the flatshare.

Simply because it’s mentioned, Robbe stayed with Milan/Zoë over Christmas Break so he wouldn’t be alone at Hogwarts or with his Dad (because something happened with his mom and he couldn’t stay with her).

In addition, they also make references to a previous section I posted where they met in an abandoned classroom. However, I wrote it before I decided to cut Sander/Senne’s ages so Robbe is referenced as a fourth-year and Sander is a sixth-year (and it’s mentioned to be summer), but I’ll have those changes fixed when I actually get to that section of Jana’s storyline.

I hope you guys enjoy!

...

Robbe didn’t know how Senne and the other Beat Boys managed to do it. Planning a party right under the noses of the teachers was one thing. Making the said “party of the century” in the Forbidden Forest on the final day that the students would be in Hogwarts for the year was another thing altogether.

The clearing that they had found was a short straight shot into the Forbidden Forest. The path had been lit by small fairy lights that only lit up as they approached the edge of the forest, leading them on a small journey to the clearing. Lanterns hovered around the edges of the clearing, showing where the other students shouldn’t be going to, and multi-colored flames hidden behind the glass which alternated between colors on a few minutes scale.

“There’s Amber,” Aaron noted, his eyes flickering over to the punch table. Robbe glanced over, spotting Amber standing with Luca, talking excitedly about something or another. The Slytherin girl had dressed in a pair of jeans and a pink t-shirt, her blonde hair half-pulled back on her head, laughing with Luca. Robbe snuck a glance at Aaron, who had been hard-core crushing on Amber for about six months now. “This is the night, I can feel it.”

Robbe, who had been the witness of Aaron crashing and burning several times in his past attempts of getting Amber to notice his existence, knew that tonight was not the night. But, Jens and Moyo hyped the curly-haired Hufflepuff up, wrapped their arms around him, steering him in Amber’s general direction, and leaving Robbe behind. But, as much as watching Aaron’s likely epic fail might be amusing, he couldn’t bear witness to it all tonight, to listen to his friends try and make it seem like everything was okay.

Robbe’s phone dinged and he pulled it out of his pocket.

Zoë: I see you looking glum over there. Come join the party.

Robbe glanced up, finding Zoë standing on the other side of the clearing. She was half-wrapped up in Senne’s embrace, her hair immaculate and bright red lipstick shining on her lips. She was dressed in a white top and blue denim jeans. Spotting his gaze, she waved him over smiling at him. But, Robbe shook his head.

Robbe: Not feeling up to it tonight. Jens dragged me along.

Zoë pouted at him and it earned half of a chuckle.

Zoë: Have you heard from your mama?

Robbe: Yeah, she’s settling into the hospital alright. Once we get settled in, I’m going to go see her.

Zoë nodded her head, typing out another message. Senne was half-leaning over her shoulder to see the messages and, a moment later, found him across the party and waved at him. Robbe gave him a half-wave and his phone buzzed in his hand.

Zoë: Well, I know you’re worried about her, but try to relax somehow.

Zoë: We just completed our O.W.L.s. I know that you and Yasmina have been studying hard for it so try to relax okay 😊

Zoë: Try the punch, it’s a mixture of butterbeer and firewhiskey. Luka’s specialty. 😉

Robbe glanced towards Zoë confused, only to find that Senne had Zoë’s phone. The blonde had her hands on her hips, rolling her eyes affectionately, and Robbe chuckled to himself, thanking Senne in one final text message, who gave him a thumbs up from across the party. Zoë laughed, leaning into Senne’s embrace as he held her tightly, and Robbe felt his stomach churn a little bit. Shoving his phone in his pocket and ignoring the feeling in his stomach, Robbe went to grab a glass of punch.

The rest of his friends were having a good time, talking with one another, but Robbe couldn’t help but feel left out of it all. Jens was laughing with Moyo as Aaron fumbled his way into another epic crash and burn, which ended with Amber rolling her eyes and moving away with Luca, who was giggling. Jana was in the middle of the clearing, with Zoë and Senne and Luka, dancing and laughing. Even Yasmina, who rarely joined parties, was talking with some of the other Ravenclaws, likely trading answers from their O.W.L.s, but Robbe couldn’t join them.

He felt out of place, on the outside of the room with no way to get in.

Pulling out his phone again and drowning the rest of his drink, Robbe opened up his messages, finding his messages with Milan. As soon as he spotted Milan’s picture, the one that Milan had taken himself when he snatched Robbe’s phone over the Christmas break, he felt the guilt swarming back in his gut, the final remains of the anger and stress that had seeped out when Milan had simply been the messenger.

“Stay away from me!”

Leaning against the tree behind him, Robbe typed out a message, pressing send before he could talk himself out of it.

Robbe: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out at you.

Robbe didn’t have to wait long before three dots popped back up, signaling that Milan was writing a response back to him. They disappeared, but only briefly before the text finally came through.

Milan: It’s okay. I understand. You were stressed about your O.W.L.s and I certainly didn’t help it.

Milan: But, no ill will, I promise! I’ve already got the room ready for you. And, since the room is yours permanently now, we can go out and find some posters that you can hang on the wall. If you want, that is.

Robbe: Sounds nice. Thanks.

“Care for a refill?”

Robbe glanced up, spotting another glass of the punch outstretched towards him. Following the leather-clad arm up to the face of its owner, trying to attest that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him, Robbe found Sander Driesen standing in front of him. The sixth-year Slytherin was dressed in a pair of denim jeans, a t-shirt with a graph that he didn’t recognize, and his signature boots. Beneath the multi-colored flames of the lanterns, his platinum-blond hair shifted with the color of the lights and Sander grinned at him. His stomach did an unexpected somersault.

Swallowing, Robbe nodded his head, reaching out to take the cup from his hand, “Yes, thank you.” It was a small cup and Robbe’s fingers brushed against Sander’s as he took it. He placed the new cup into the empty cup and settled against the trunk of the tree, his eyes flickering over to the dancing in the middle of the clearing. In the throng of the party, he could see couples kissing and dancing,

To his surprise, Sander leaned against the tree as well, bringing Robbe’s attention back to him as he brought his own cup to his lips to take a sip. Once he spotted that Robbe was looking at him, Sander scoffed, “I didn’t poison it, by the way.”

Robbe blinked, confused at what he meant, but then he remembered their last conversation, the one in Robbe’s favorite classroom, his hidden cove in Hogwarts, and Robbe rolled his eyes, “I wasn’t thinking that it was poisoned!” As if to prove his point, Robbe took a drink and Sander laughed, his eyes scrunching up as he did. “Honestly, if you keep saying that, I’m just going to start to assume that everything you give me is going to be poisoned. Do I need to have a bezoar in my pocket at all times with you?”

Sander laughed, shaking his head as he did so. “How did your O.W.L.s end up going?” Robbe glanced up at him and Sander added, “Zoë mentioned that you were stressing out about them.”

“I think they went pretty good,” Robbe admitted. “I’m sure I did a lot better than Jens did. He’s been so wrapped up in Quidditch and everything that he didn’t study as much as he wanted to.”

Sander’s eyebrows furrowed, turning towards him. “You’ve been pretty wrapped up in Quidditch too though, right? I mean, it was Gryffindor and Ravenclaw in the final match.” Robbe nodded his head. “I guess you’re just better at prioritizing what you need to focus on more than he can. Since the final match, I’ve seen him practically drowning in the library, trying to get caught up on everything.” Robbe chuckled, laughing at the image. “How’s everything going with that? The two of you seem to be getting along again.”

Robbe glanced up at him.

Sander was staring off in the direction of the party, watching the crowd move around in anticipation for whatever’s next. When the blond realized that he hadn’t responded, he glanced back over to Robbe and blinked at him, “What?”

“I don’t know,” Robbe remarked. “I just didn’t realize you would remember that is all.” There was a confused expression on the blond’s face, tilting his head to the side, but before Sander could question again, though he was unsure why he would tell him, Robbe added, lightly, “And, since you’re wondering, I got over it.”

“Oh?” Sander questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Robbe replied, shrugging his shoulders. Eager to do anything else than stare at Sander, he took another sip of the drink that the blond had given him. “He only sees me as a best friend and a brother so it wouldn’t be a good thing to hold onto something that would never turn out the way that I want it to.” Sander nodded his head, taking a drink. His eyes moved back to the party, the flames making his hair look a dazzling shade of Slytherin green, and Robbe stared at him, a knot forming deep in his throat as he managed to get out, “What about you?”

“Hmm,” Sander questioned, turning back to him.

“Before the break, you were talking about how you knew what it was like to be in love with someone that didn’t return your feelings or didn’t know,” Robbe spoke up. For a brief moment, Sander simply stared at him, his eyes wide and his mouth dropped a little, staring at him. Robbe swallowed, worried that he had said the wrong thing, and hastily added, “You mentioned it last time…”

“I know,” Sander replied, shaking his head. “I just… I guess I didn’t expect you to remember it is all.”

“Oh,” Robbe mumbled.

“But, the jury is still out for me,” Sander admitted, shrugging his shoulders. “They could like me back, or at least in some capacity, but I’m not quite sure that they know it yet.” Before Robbe could question further, Sander moved to the punch bowl, grabbing a new cup and pouring several drinks into the cup. Then, he returned to Robbe, placing a straw in the drink. “Here, take a drink. It’s my specialty and a whole lot better than the one Luka always makes.”

“Did you poison it?” Robbe questioned, glancing down at the cup and feeling a smile creep onto his face.

Sander looked offended, placing a hand over his chest. “How dare you,” the Slytherin spoke. “Because of that comment, you definitely have to drink it now.” He took a step closer, raising the cup out for Robbe to take from him. “Get ready to get mindblown.” The Slytherin was standing so close now… should he be standing that close? Robbe didn’t know for sure.

He could tell that the clearing was beginning to spin, his heart racing briefly in his chest, and Sander was right there in front of him, waiting for him to reach out and take the cup from his hand, but Robbe felt like he couldn’t move his arms. Without thinking, he glanced down at the straw, raising his eyes back to meet Sander’s green eyes, and dropped his mouth open slightly. Even with the minimum lighting on the edges of the clearing, he could see Sander’s eyes widen and Robbe felt like he needed to correct his mistake, to reach up and take the glass. But, then, Sander took another step closer, reaching up to place the straw against his bottom lip.

Robbe took a sip, feeling the mixture of alcohol and sweetness pour into his mouth. The concoction registered briefly on Robbe’s tongue, on his tastebuds, before disappearing completely down his throat and it was one of the best drinks that he had. It was better than any concoction that Moyo tried making or the combination of weed and alcohol. Robbe took another drink, swallowing it, trying to savor it before he let go of the straw.

But, Sander didn’t step away, a nervous smile crossing his features. “Best drink ever?”

Robbe nodded his head, affirming, “Best drink ever.”

Sander smiled, the kind that made his eyes crinkle, and the Slytherin shifted to his heels, reaching up to take a drink of it himself. His lips wrapped around the edge of the straw and his eyes never left Robbe’s. Sander opened his mouth to say something else, and Robbe felt his chest tighten considerably, the good kind, but his voice didn’t come out of his mouth, “Sander! There you are!”

The shout felt like a bucket of ice-cold water dropped over Robbe’s shoulders, jolting him back into the reality of the present. The party came rushing back with the music and the multi-colored flames and his mom and he was moving in with Milan and Zoë because… Robbe let out a breath, sinking back into the bark of the tree that he had been resting on, and Sander shifted a step back away from him, moving towards the source of the voice.

“I didn’t think you were going to make it,” Britt purred, reaching up to wrap her arms around Sander’s neck and press a kiss against his lips. Robbe swallowed, glancing down at his shoes, bringing the remainder of his own drink back to his lips to take a drink. But, it isn’t the same. “Hey, Robbe,” Britt spoke, turning towards him, grinning. The Slytherin girl had the tips of her blonde hair charmed dark green, dressed in a black dress that fit her, and she had a tipsy grin on her face. “Thank you for keeping Sander company. I know he can be annoying at times.”

Unable to form the words, Robbe shook his head, glancing over to Sander, who was resting against Britt with one arm, the one without the drink, around her waist, giving Robbe a shy smile. He wasn’t annoying.

“Come on, babe,” Britt spoke, turning fully back to Sander. “Let’s dance.” Her eyes glanced briefly down to the drink in his hand. “Oh, are you sure-”

“It’s Robbe’s,” Sander spoke, quickly. He moved back to Robbe, handing him the glass with a smile on his face. “Have a good summer, Robbe.” Then, Britt was taking his hand and dragging him out to the middle of the clearing, pulling him close to her.

For several moments, Robbe watched the two of them, happy and dancing, before he moved back to the drinks in his hand, drowning one and the other soon after. Robbe let out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the tree. Glancing back at the party, his eyes found Jens, who was talking it up and laughing with the other guys, and then Sander, in the middle of the clearing, his face pressed in the nook of Britt’s neck as they swayed together to the slow song that had come on.

Swallowing, unable to think of it, Robbe pulled his phone back out, finding a new message from Milan.

Milan: You’re welcome! It’ll be the best summer ever. I promise!

Robbe let out a sigh. As much as he admired Milan’s ability to try and make everything better, he somehow doubted that to be the case.

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foolishlovebugbaby · 5 years ago

Text

ten-thousand miles gone

prologue

summary: they say time heals all wounds, but the one left by han jisung on your heart is one that you still treat tenderly. alternatively; han jisung reappears into your life like a whirlwind, knocking you off of your feet, after leaving you without a goodbye.

genre: angst

warnings: nothing triggering or rated

word count: 6k

note: in my head, the mind map of the way this particular fic ended went in so many directions, but this was very draining to write so i settled on the one that wouldn’t leave you hanging.

been travelling these wide roads for so long my heart’s been far from you ten-thousand miles gone

In your younger years, life had always seemed to move gradually. Time seemed to be muffled by all the firsts and seconds that came and went like waves, distracting everyone from the reality of growing pains. But college certainly ripped off that bandaid, a cushion no longer supporting your fall into the harsh realities of life.

Second semester of sophomore year had just ended, so now every college student across the country was making a beeline for the airports and bus stations, with tickets home clasped tightly between hands that were potentially developing carpal tunnel syndrome. Luckily for you, home was two train rides and a taxicab away. But like all your independent adventures of navigating life unhinged, no journey would be complete without twenty-something voicemails from your mother telling you to padlock your luggage and some vague, superstitious advice she read on Facebook.

[To ma: yes, i didnt forget to pack your scarf and no, im not going to drink ginger and ginseng to ward off bad train spirits.]

[From ma: thank you. suit yourself , you will be bad spirit magnet !]

You chuckle and shove your phone into your pocket, hailing a cab with one hand while the other slings an abnormally large duffle bag over your shoulder. “North-Hill train station please.” You say to the cab driver and shove your luggage into the seat next to you.

You let out a tired sigh and slump into the pleather seats. Butterflies swarmed your stomach- you always seemed to get them whenever you went back home. Back to the place of some of your greatest and worst memories. Somehow, through the years, the fear of seeing him again in that godforsaken town died down, because the thought of ever being able to see him again at all proved itself to be almost impossible.

Even a fool knows this, you’re the best thing I’ve got…

You almost choke on your spit when that song comes on the radio. Of course that song had to come on so conveniently in the middle of your trip down melancholy lane. You have half a mind to reach over and turn the radio off, but decide against it when you see the cute old man bobbing his head to it.

So instead your mind traces its steps back a few moments until all you’re reminded of is him.

In your head you remember all these great experiences- graduation day, senior prom, camp nights during wintertime and summer carnivals down at the boardwalk. But then your mind tortures you and conjures up these images of what it would’ve been like to have experienced it all with him next to you and suddenly the memories become less fond. It’s treacherous, really, being your own worst enemy. But you learnt the hard way that time slows down for no one.

When you get to the train station, you move in a daze. The muscle memory of validating your ticket and walking to the platform does all the work for you. And usually that would be a good thing, except now it only allowed you to stay in your head a lot more. It’s funny, really, how everytime you see posters and billboards of his group around you don’t flinch. Not anymore at least. Because you don’t know him anymore, and he’s probably forgotten about you.

Sometimes, you’re convinced he was just a character that your very active imagination conjured up to fill gaps in your life with meaning. But every time you open a picture of the pair of you way back when, you’re met with the reality that he was real. Even if it was just for a short amount of time, he was visible to you. Tangible. And meant galaxies to you.

[From mama han: cant wait 2 see u back again ! have dinner with us soon xoxo]

You smile fondly down at your phone once you’re situated in your seat, typing out a reply to the woman you consider a second mom.

You thanked the universe for still keeping her in your life. Sure, her son would probably be known to you as the biggest jackass to exist for eternity, but she would remain sweet and tender in your heart for longer than that.

[To mama han: can’t wait to see you too:)]

You don’t confirm your spot at their dinner table, because frankly speaking, the last time you stepped foot in their house was the summer before university when you went to drop off a box of jisung’s things that you found in your room- sweatshirts, t-shirt’s, notes and other miscellaneous items that demanded you remember every miniscule moment spent with him. And since then you’ve found every excuse not to go near that place. You knew it probably hurt the woman whenever you conjured up some arbitrary excuse to not dig in to her incredible cooking, but the finger is to be pointed at Han Jisung and Han Jisung only. Screw him.

She sometimes tries to address the elephant in the room whenever you do get to talk during her visits at your childhood home. Like It would be great to have you both visit at the same time or Would you like me to call him? I’m sure he’s not busy right now. Yeah, subtle as a gun, but you love her still.

You’re not one to believe in luck, and if you did you’d actually quite fancy yourself as the most unluckiest person of them all, but you thank the heavens that he’s never been back home the same time as you have. Either that, or you’re just way too good at being further than a 10-mile radius from him. Like last semester break, when you got word from one of your childhood friends that he would be in town so you decided to cancel all your plans of going back home under the guise of going on a group excursion somewhere up north. Obviously, all you did was stay in your dorm and binge watch Gossip Girl for three weeks, but you concluded that anything would be better than having to confront your demons- or demon. Singular.

What would you even say if you saw him? Realistically, not that much. Ideally, you’d destroy him with words. All that pent up anger for him leaving you behind and all the unresolved feelings left to concentrate in an urn you buried deep in yourself exploding like Pandora's box right before him. 5 years passed, and yet you still found it difficult to imagine what a conversation would be like with him again.

Honestly, you’d tell him to stay a while longer, just so that he’d remain vivid in your memories once he decided to leave again.

When the taxi cab pulled up in front of your childhood home, you were half asleep and in desperate need of a solid meal. “Thanks, keep the change,” you say groggily as you pass the money to the driver.

You take a deep breath once you’re out of the car, your duffle bag slung around your frame. It’s been a very long time since you were last here. The months seemed to pile up without you noticing, and now that you think about it, it had been a good whole year that passed. You don’t know where the time went, but you were definitely here now.

You trudge up to the door, ringing the bell once. “Hey ma,” You say as she squeals and pulls you in for a hug. “I’m glad you’re back in one piece, especially since you ignored my advice.” She says pointedly and ushers you in. “Yeah, well, I guess the train spirits didn’t feel like victimising me today.” She looks at you with her mouth hung open and slaps your arm.

“Don’t say that!” She’s about to scold you more when your dad enters the living room in his pajama pants. “My daughter finally decides to show her face around here! Send in the doves!” You always knew that you got your flare for drama from your dad.

“How are you doing sweetie, we missed you.” He gives you a big bear hug and you sigh. “I know, it’s been too long.”

“There is not enough time in this world to mope around! Now, darling, it’s very late so your father and I are off to bed. There’s some leftovers for you in the toaster oven in case you get hungry,” They both smother you in a hug and you almost suffocate. “We’d love to hear all about your university in the morning. Sleep tight honey.”

And so you’re left to your own devices. Again. Sighing, you reluctantly head up the stairs and make your way into your old room. A smile finds its place on your lips.

The room is oddly clean- you figured your mother must have emotionally cleaned in here (more than once) during your time away from home. But the walls are still the same ugly navy blue, and your star-print curtains remained planted in front of your windows with planet decorations all over the ceiling to match. Funny. He helped you decorate. Said it made your room feel like the universe was just the two of you.

You didn’t know that what he really meant was that you were his safe place.

You spend a good thirty-minutes unpacking, tinkering around your old room and texting your friends about your trip home. It feels like an eternity passed when you finally decide to listen to your growling stomach and go get something to eat. But you’re picky and nothing in your kitchen seems to entice you enough to devour it, so you swipe your house keys off the kitchen countertop and head to your door. 7-Eleven it is. You’re dressed in a pair of leggings and a pink sweater with fluffy slides to match, but you could care less.

As you walk out of your driveway and head down your street, you pass by his house. The lights are off (of course, since it’s an ungodly 1AM) and it practically looked like a dollhouse.

You turn your gaze away.

The walk to the local 7-Eleven is only 5 Hozier tracks away, so you reach there in no time. Your tummy growls when you enter, and you immediately head to the instant section. Hmm, ramen, tteokbokki or pasta, choices choices choices…

You’re too busy pondering to notice the figure clad in sweats and a baseball cap standing frozen at the end of the aisle, gaping like a fish your way. He practically isn’t breathing, but your presence had knocked the wind right out of his chest.

“Y-Y/n?” He manages to breathe out, and you look around, confused. Did someone just say my name?

Your eyes slowly turn to his figure, and you can barely see who it is from afar. Tan skin can be seen from the collar under his hoodie, and dirty-blonde hair peeks out at the ends of his baseball cap. You feel like you’re seeing things, because you know that baseball cap. You bought it.

Slowly, your eyes trail over his face, and you feel the air leave your lungs.

Jisung still remembers the last time he saw you. Well, the last time he saw you before he didn’t say goodbye.

It was a Thursday afternoon, History class had just ended. On the way out, he caught a glimpse of you. He hadn’t seen much of you the entire week, but that was because he was actively trying to avoid you. But there you were, at your locker putting away your books with that puppy-dog expression you always wore whenever you were tired and in need of a good nap. He stood for a few moments, taking you in. Even if your hair was messily up in a bun with a hoodie two sizes too big drowning your frame, he still thought you looked like an absolute dream. He wanted to go up to you and ask you how was calculus? And when you pout and say boring, he would suggest you come over for some hot chocolate and a movie. And you would say yes, with a sleepy, lopsided smile, and his body would feel all warm and fuzzy at the sight of you.

But he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he leaves his heart by the lockers, and with one last look, he walks away. His jacket does nothing to warm the cold that creeps its way up.

Had he known he wouldn’t get to see you one last time after that, he would’ve watched you for a few seconds longer. Had he known that you would fall sick and stay home from school the day before his flight, he would have told you to take better care of yourself. And had he known that the last time he’d see you would be when you’re drained and tired and down, he would have gone up to you to make you smile, one last time.

He never stopped recreating pictures of you in his head, fearing the outlines of you would fade.

Except now, as you stand a mere six feet away, he feels as though you stepped out of his mind and into his world once again. He can see you. You’re there.

None of the pictures of you that he drew up in his head would ever compare to the way you looked right then. Beautiful, just as he remembered you.

Your name feels like a foreign language when it leaves his lips.

The air is so thick between the pair of you that it makes everything around him slow down. He sees your eyes move from confusion, to shock, to utter fear and bewilderment, and then to pain. It feels as though a knife impaled his heart when he sees your eyes quiver.

He always loved your eyes. Dark brown, like freshly turned over earth, warmed by the sun. They look at him with sorrow now.

Your arms drop to your sides and your lips quake, “J-Jisung?” God, he forgot what it was like to hear his name in your voice. He hates that it’s said with so much heartache.

You run out without thinking twice.

“Stop, slow down! W-wait!” You hear his voice call out for you, but you continue to run- where? You don’t know. You just wanted to get away. Your feet take you far down the sidewalk, lamp-posts your only source of light at this time of night.

But you’re not fast enough, and for the first time in a long time, you feel his grip on your arm.

“Let go of me,” You say, your voice already breaking. He breaks with it.

“Y/N listen-” He pants out.

“No, let go of me!” You snatch your arm away from his grip. God, you’re furious. And hurt. And every other emotion there is to feel when you see the person who left you with nothing.

Your raised voice startles the two of you, and you both stand there for a moment, breathless. From running, from shock.

He doesn’t say anything and just gapes at you, “Well?” You provoke pointedly. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

“No ‘Hey y/n! How’ve you been? Long time no see since, you know, I abandoned you’.” You say harshly and the knife in his heart twists.

“I know you’re hurt-” You cut him off.

“Hurt? Hurt? Hurt doesn’t even come close to what I feel, Jisung.” All the words you want to spew get caught in the back of your throat and you fight yourself to keep it together because you don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t want him to catch you vulnerable and raw, because you don’t know if you can trust him with that part of you again.

“Can we please just- can we please just talk?” He begs, and you scoff. “Please?” His eyes plead with you, and you frustratedly run a hand through your hair.

“So talk.” You cross your arms over your chest and look at anywhere but him. He doesn’t say anything, and each time he tries to, all he does is end up biting his tongue. Where does he even begin?

“I’m sorry,” He croaks out, even though it’s the worst thing to say.

“Great. All is forgiven.” You’re ruthless, but that’s only because he didn’t show any mercy when he left.

He searches your eyes, not knowing what he could say to make things right. Or if that was even a possibility anymore. You both stand in silence for a while, and slowly your resolve breaks away.

“Why?” You say, your voice coarse and exhausted. “Why’d you do it? I tortured myself for months- no, years asking myself what I did wrong that caused you to leave me like that. What- was it something I said? Something I did? Please- tell me, I’m begging you,” You’re full-on sobbing now, tears flowing down your face like waves. They twinkle in the warm streetlights and he feels the ground beneath him crumble. The wound he left on your heart was ripped open again, and you couldn’t help but bleed in front of him. “P-please, Jisung. It’s been killing me for so long.”

Tears leave his eyes, “It wasn’t your fault,” He says softly.

“Then what was it? Because for all this time I broke myself down, questioning why you left like that. For so long I thought you were mad at me- I thought you became tired of me, bored of having me around. Do you know what that’s like? Tearing yourself apart to find answers you know you can’t answer by yourself?” “Shit, I thought you didn’t need me anymore. Which sucked, because I needed you.” You whisper through ragged breaths and he takes careful steps closer to you.

“Of course I still needed you- I haven’t stopped needing you, y/n.” His voice is as broken as yours.

“Then why?” Your voice is barely above a whisper and you struggle so hard to not fall to the ground.

“Do you know what it felt like to wake up one morning, clueless and thinking everything was fine, and then finding out that it was, in fact, not? Do you know what it was like to find out the person you cared for the most up and left you alone and with no explanation- not even a single goodbye? To be desperate to hear his voice again, and wonder to yourself why it was so easy for him to cut you off like that?” He stood right in front of you, so close that he could touch you.

“I searched for you. I still looked for you in the hallways at school, hoping it was just one of your stupid pranks. I waited in my room for you to climb up to my window again and whisk me away to the park for one of our late-night walks. I called your phone for days, just in case you’d finally get annoyed and pick up. You never did. You never did,” You didn’t notice that your face was in his hands and that he tried so desperately to wipe your tears away, his own streaming down his face.

He sucked in a breath, “I left like that because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get on that plane with you watching. That I would drop everything, all my stupid dreams, to stay in this stupid town for god knows how long with you. Leaving you was the most painful part,”

“That day I found out I passed the audition- do you remember? You were so happy for me, more happy than I was. The only thing on my mind was the fact that I had to leave everything behind to chase after this dream- to chase after a dream that came true because of you. I wasn’t sure anymore. But you were so sure of me, so ready to see me attain everything we talked about, that the thought of all of that being in vain because of my cowardice ate me up inside. I thought that maybe if I could keep you at a distance- make you mad at me for ignoring you, have you hate me- that it would make it a little easier to let you go of me,” Your lips quiver.

“It wasn’t easy-”

“I know, I know that.” He rests his forehead against yours and squeezes his eyes shut as he hears your soft sobs. “It was so that I wouldn’t have a memory of leaving you behind in an airport. I wasn’t ready to have that image in my mind haunt me. I’ve regretted it everyday. You have to believe me when I say that.”

“Then why didn’t you call back? Or even send a message?” Your eyes search his for answers as you pull your forehead away from his to get a clearer look.

“I thought you hated me. That you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

“Bullshit. You thought wrong.” Angrily, you push at his chest with closed fists and shut eyes, “You thought wrong,” You push him away until you’re no longer in his grip. “Let me go,” You whimper when he tries to reach for you again. “That doesn’t justify why you left me like that. I felt like I meant nothing to you for so long. You threw me away like I didn’t mean anything- made me feel like I was insignificant.”

“You meant everything to me!” He shouts out, shocking you into silence. “Don’t you see it?” When you only stare at him in confusion, he sucks in a breath.

“The mere thought of leaving you was enough for me to think twice. Sitting with you in French class and giggling because we didn’t understand a word, spending so many nights with you in your ridiculous dinosaur onesie, getting to walk around aimlessly until 4am in this godforsaken town as if time wasn’t fleeting- I-,” He runs a hand over his face, frustratedly wiping his tears away. “I wasn’t ready for it to be over. I didn’t want to miss graduation, the day we looked forward to since grade school. I didn’t want to facetime you on prom night while you look so goddamn beautiful, knowing that someone else would be getting to slow dance with you. Knowing that I wouldn’t be there, that I would be missing out- that I would be missing you every goddamn day made me realise I wouldn’t be able to last without you.”

“Selfishly ripping you apart from me felt like the only option. And it was so cruel, I know that. I’m the selfish asshole,” He takes exactly five steps to stand in front of you, and places a hand tenderly on your cheek.

“I was selfish because I knew I couldn’t have you. I was in love with you, y/n. So fucking in love and you didn’t even know. And after all this time, I still am.” He says that last sentence in a whisper, and before you know it, his lips are on yours.

His mouth is so warm against yours, so tender, and yet they set your skin on fire.

You pull away and take two steps back.

“Y-you don’t get to kiss m-me like that, not again,” You say breathless. You’re reminded of sophomore year, and the kiss in his living room that made you feel weightless and lightheaded.

“Y/n-”

“I think we’ve talked enough for tonight,” Your heart hammers in your chest and the blood rushes to your face so fast that you swear you’re shivering. His eyes are illuminated by the streetlamps and you see them break right before you, defeated. Yours are no different.

You walk away, choking back sobs.

He doesn’t try to stop you.

It’s 4PM when you decide to get out of bed.

Your eyes are practically closed shut from your lack of sleep and you don’t bother to brush your hair, or undrape the blanket around your shoulders when you head downstairs. Your parents are sitting in the living room, oblivious and unassuming, but when they see you they almost go into cardiac arrest.

“What’s wrong?” Your mother asks tentatively, extremely unsure as to why her daughter looked so abnormally disheveled. “Did you know he was going to be back in town?” You croak out, and she sighs.

“So you saw him.” She states, and your dad pretends to read the newspaper.

“Why didn’t you tell me ma, you know what happened-”

“Exactly; everyone knows what happened, and everyone knows how ruined you’ve both been because of it. But nothing’s going to change if you keep sweeping it under the rug. Honey, I know you’re hurting,” She rests a hand on your cheek and you close your eyes at the feeling. “But this is your chance to get closure.”

“What if I don’t want it anymore?”

“Oh that’s a load of cow dung. Look at you; you’re a mess.” Gee, thanks mom.

She bites her lip and pauses for a second, “What if I told you that during your first year in college, the very first semester you were away, he came back? It was the autumn before things took off for him, and he showed up in town looking for you everywhere, not knowing you had left. I felt so bad, but you’re my daughter, and my first instinct was to protect you because I knew that for the first time in a long time, you were enjoying yourself. So I didn’t give him your new number, said your phone was broken, and he was absolutely heartbroken. I regret it slightly, but maybe this time you both can stop being constantly out of step.”

Your mouth hung agape and your head spun. He looked for me?

“Don’t leave things like this, you need each other.” She gives you a squeeze, and you sigh.

She was right. Years passed with so many things left unsaid, so much time gone. And as much as you hated to admit it, you were never going to get that time back. It would kill you knowing that you didn’t take the chance to fix things. You were already broken down to your bones, what’s left to chip away?

You uncoil yourself from your blanket and fling it onto the couch, groaning when you realise you’re going to have to face him again. The events that had elapsed last night were still hard to wrap your mind around, and you found yourself wondering if it ever did happen. You could already feel your heart pound at the thought of it. His words float in your mind ceaselessly; so much so that when you step out of your house, you almost miss the slumped figure on your sidewalk.

He gets up at the sound of your door closing.

His hair was messy, pointing every which way, and the same clothes from earlier were now wrinkled and crimped. His eyes devastated you. They looked worn down and exhausted, much like yours did.

“Walk with me?” He breathes out, and you nod.

Seeing him in daylight is different. As you two walk, you become increasingly aware of exactly how much he’s grown. He used to be only a few centimeters taller than you, but now you only reach his chin. Barely. But his skin is the same golden tan and his cheeks remained full. You’re close enough that you can smell his scent- a scent you didn’t know you missed until now. But in retrospect, you just missed him.

You both reach the small park in the middle of your neighborhood, and you find yourselves under the big oak tree that he had deemed our spot all those years ago. You look up into his eyes, and for a moment you remember what it’s like to feel home again.

“Do you remember the first time we found this place? You were always so terrible at hide and seek.”

You find yourself smiling at the memory. He hid from you, behind this very tree, for so long that it had felt like you spent hours searching for him. When you finally did find him, you were angry and upset with him with red cheeks to match.

“That’s only because you were always so good at hiding from me,” There’s ambiguity that you didn’t intend in that statement, which brings you both back to silence.

After a while, you gather the courage to speak again. “So about that kiss-” He winces and scratches the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry for catching you off-guard like that last night-”

“I’m talking about the one on your birthday, sophomore year.” His lips squeeze into a tight line and his round eyes stare at you dumbfoundedly.

“I-I always thought you never remembered that. You never brought it up, so I thought that it was just a mistake.” You fiddle with your fingers and gnaw at your bottom lip, feeling the heat creep to the back of your neck.

“Y/n, it was never a mistake. I wanted to kiss you- and I did- because I was sick of being confused about my feelings for you.” You look back up at him, “I didn’t bring it up because I was too scared of scaring you away with it all.”

“Well you should’ve, so that I wouldn’t be so confused either.” His expression changes, and you didn’t think it was possible, but it becomes even more defeated than it was a few moments ago. He rubs his face with his face with his hands, leaning against the tree.

He’s about to speak again, but your lips reach his before he gets the chance.

His soft cheeks rest in your hands as you taste him, soaking in the feeling of his warm lips against yours. This time, for the first time, the kiss lasts longer than a few seconds.

The sensation sends shivers up your arms and down your spine. When he kisses you back, he kisses you with so much fervour that you’re worried you’ll pass out at the feeling. But his arms grip you tightly around your waist to keep you there, with him, firmly in place. Your mind is fuzzy and your heart beats erratically in your chest when he squeezes your waist. Craving him like this is new to you, and yet you can’t help but yearn for more.

Where words failed you before, you make up for it in slow dances across his lips.

“It was worth it, right?” Your question comes as a surprise to him.

Earlier, when the sun had begun to set, the two of you decided that public parks were not exactly the most ideal place to have a heart-to-heart. So you walked back to his place, hands shoved in to the depths of your pockets, but your shoulders brushing against his with every step.

The two of you laid face to face on his bed, pillow-width apart.

“Leaving, yes. Hurting you, not at all.” He answers quietly, his hand drawing circles on the small of your back.

Under his bedroom lights, you take his breath away. His eyes trace over your features, over every dip and bump of the outlines of your face and he hopes that this vision of you never leaves him. He takes in every mole and freckle on your face like it’s the first time he’s seen them, when the reality is that he always used to map out constellations on your cheeks while you slept. He’s afraid that if he blinks, you’ll vanish again, so he tries to keep his gaze steady on yours, unwavering and certain. The way he looks at you sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy.

“I miss you,” You say, your voice meek and he feels his heart break all over again. “I miss you too.” You both speak in present-tense because even though he could touch you, see you, he knew it would take an indefinite amount of time for the pain of losing so many moments to heal.

He pulls you into him, savouring the feeling of your embrace. Holding you makes him feel at home, and god knows he’s been away for so long. You nestle into the crook of his neck, and his hands rest under your sweater and on supple skin, willing your pain to go away.

There are an infinite amount of things he wants to tell you, but he figures “I love you.” would suffice for now.

Life never slowed down. As much as it felt like it had when you spent your days with him again, the days piled up one by one. And soon enough, time caught up.

Soon enough, you would need to book your train ticket back to the city, because your three-week long semester break would draw to a close. He would have to book a plane ticket back to glitz and glamour, and the pair of you would wind up in the same dilemma that you were in five years ago.

Only this time, he never leaves your side during your fleeting time together. This time, he tries to make up for all the lost moments within the span of three weeks. He doesn’t let go of any chance to be with you- to hold you, to touch you, to kiss you. He imprints the feeling of his skin on yours so that you never forget. So that he never forgets. Your eyes are cosmic in the moments that you share intimately, and he soaks up every inch of you so that he never forgets what it feels like to share the same breath.

He listens to all your stories and all your bizarre adventures with a fond smile, because you tell them with such wonder that it makes him feel like he was there. Your voice is the only one he wants in his head.

When he drops you off at the station, he doesn’t say goodbye. But not like last time; he doesn’t say goodbye because instead he says I’ll see you soon and Get there safely. When he watches the train pull away from the platform, he prays he sees it soon again because it carries his heart with him.

He likes to imagine that you send him voice notes of your day and how frustrated you are with you OChem professor. That you send him pictures of yourself, and all the cute little cats you come across during your walks to class. That you send him long letters in the mail like the hopeless romantic that you are. In return, he would introduce you to his members- he knows you’d get along with Hyunjin the best, because you both would like to bitch about him while he’s still in the room. He likes the idea of facetiming you whenever you have the time, and getting to say he misses you, even if it’s only through a screen. He likes to imagine that in every lyric he writes, an essence of you treads in his words, because you’re his only muse. And he envisions the day when he’s finally back in the town where time slows, up in your room where the rest of the world crumbles away and your slates are clean once again.

But for now he watches as the train becomes nothing but a speck in the distance, waiting for it all to play out.

71 notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

Note

#5 Danbry SFW, please ;-; *prayer hands emoji*

Here you go!

5) I’m a pro athelete at a press conference and I make a comment to my buddy about you because I forgot my mic was on.

Context note: 27/5 is twenty seven laps in five minutes.

The Kepler Wrecking Belles are still taking questions, though Aubrey (skatename: Lady Flame) is starting to wish they’d wrap this dang thing up. Their team has won every exhibition game they’ve played at RollerCon (thus far) and so everyone has questions about their strategy and how a team from such a small town can be wiping the floor with teams from bigger cities.

“Okay, one more question, then my girls have gotta go rest up.” Their coach and founder of the Kepler Wrecking Belles, Mama (skate name: Mama Bear, now retired), scans the crowd, “yeah, you, in the far right.”

Aubrey turns to look and suddenly has zero interest in ending the conference. Sitting there, tablet in hand, is the most gorgeous woman she’s ever seen. Blonde hair, a few stray freckles, a body that’d make a girl fall head over skates…

….oh shit, she’s asking a question. Aubrey really hopes someone else has got it.

“Hardest part of our training regime?” Sitting next to her, her teammate Juno (skate name: Divine Fury) taps her chin, “when Mama puts us through circuit after an entire practice of speed drills.”

“Really?” The blonde leans forward, curious, “that’s harder than doing the 27/5?”

Her teammates trade looks, murmuring among themselves, nodding, and Minerva (skate name: Chosen Buns), adds, “She puts basic training to shame.”

“No wonder you all are doing well, sounds like she puts you through your paces.” The blonde makes a few notes and the press conference comes to a close.

But all Aubrey can think is, “like to put her through her paces.”

Oh no, she said that out loud. Wait, why is everyone looking at her, she whispered it right?

“Mic.” Juno points to the treacherous piece of sound equipment as the team dissolves into degrees of hysterical laughter.

Aubrey turns, finds the blonde blinking at her, stunned, as she packs up her things. Then the crowd is moving and Aubrey loses sight of her.

“Shit, shitshitshit.” Aubrey stands, vaults awkwardly over the table.

“Where the hell are you goin’, Lady Flame?” Mama raises an eyebrow,

“I gotta go apologize and also, shit, nevermind!” She takes off, wishing she had her skates on as she stumbles through the crowd, looking for a flash of blonde hair. Which, given how many women here are blonde, is not the best strategy she’s ever come up with.

She gets lucky, spots the woman getting into an elevator on the far end of the main hall.

“Hey! Hey!” She waves, causing several people (including the blonde) to look. When their eyes meet, she blushes instantly.

“I’m super sorry for my comment that was really inappropriate I just meant I think you’re cute is all but in like a respectful way!”

The woman smiles, calls back, “it’s okay And, um thanks!”

“You’re welcome can I-”

The elevator door shuts.

“-get your number?” Aubrey finishes, much softer than before, “Aw, beans.”

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

“Aubrey, we’ve got three more days of the con, I’m sure you’ll see her again.” Juno pats her shoulder as she straps on her kneepads.

“But what if I dooooooooooon’t? It’s been a whole day already and I haven’t seen her at all.”

“It’s still big con. It might take a bit. Wait, is this why you keep offering to the be one to go get drinks or the first aid kit or whatever else we forget back in the room.”

“.....Yes.” Aubrey grumpily rests her face in her palms.

“I see no sign of her in the rosters.” Minerva holds up the program containing photos of all the teams.

“Guess she’s not a player. Could be a ref, or just a fan.”

“Yeah” Aubrey sighs, clips her helmet on, “c’mon, let’s go warm up.”

The bout is against the She-vil Dead, and Aubrey is a little nervous; it’s still just an exhibition, but as Pivot it’s her job to coordinate many of the on-track plays. She doesn't want to look bad in front of the big dogs. Or anyone else who might be watching.

They pull ahead fast; Juno is not only a speedy Jammer, she’s agile too, meaning she has no trouble dodging She-vil Dead’s blockers. Not to mention Minerva is a terrifying blocker against the opponents players.

Then it happens; she’s skating, scanning for plays, when someone cheers her name in the stands.

It’s the blonde, complete with little red and black cheerleading pom-poms that match Aubrey’s outfit.

“Look-” Minerva is cut off by an opposing blocker hip checking her before the same blocker sends Aubrey skidding down the track. She gets up to take her place in their formation, and can already tell she’ll have track burn for the next week.

When they hit the next break, Mama knocks playfully on her helmet, “play now, flirt later.”

Aubrey does exactly that, and the Wrecking Bells win by a slim margin. She’s on the bench, taking off her skates and surveying the rash on her leg, when a shadow blocks out the lights.

“Um, hi again.”

“Hiiii, um, I mean, hi.”

“You’ll have to excuse her, think she took one too many hits today.” Juno teases and Aubrey flips her off as the blonde laughs.

“Do you-”

“Can I get your number?” She is not missing her chance again.

Another laugh, like neon on a warm summer night, “I was going to ask if you wanted to get a drink later.”

“Hell yes. But also please give me your number because if I lose track of you again I’m gonna die.”

“Or she’s gonna get us killed because she’s lookin for you instead of watchin the track.” Juno calls, zipping up her sweatshirt.

Soon Aubrey has a new number in her phone and a promise to meet Dani at the bar at seven.

She arrives in her best black miniskirt and red top, spies Dani waving her down from an outside table. She looks so pretty.

“You look so pretty.”

“Thanks. You look hot.” She grins.

Aubrey points finger guns her way, “I see what you did there.”

“My brother is the real punmaster in the family. Uh, were you really looking all over for me?”

“Yep. I wanted the chance to prove I really was interested in getting to know you. So, um, are you just a big derby fan?”

“Yeah, I did some boot camps but could never quite commit to the time needed to do more. I still love watching people play. I’m, uh, I’m actually moving to Huntington.”

“But that’s not far from-”

“Kepler, I know. That’s why I started following the Belles; they’re the closest team and I wanted to root for them. You’re, uh, you’re my favorite player. I think you’re just...you’re so cool.”

“Aw geez,” Aubrey jiggles her leg, “how am I suppose to out-flirt that?”

“By being yourself?”

“Dang, you’re good.”

Aubrey spends the next two hours on cloud nine as she shows Dani pictures of her pet rabbit and listens to her talk about her work in sustainable gardening. They talk shop too, Dani curious about what it’s like training under someone as formidable as Mama.

The crowd in the bar bar is thinning out when Aubrey crosses her legs then uncrosses them in a hurry.

“Ouch.” She looks down at her track burn.

“Yikes, that really is bad. I should apologize, because I guess it’s kind of my fault.”

“I mean, that huge blocker did most of the Gaohhh, oh I get it.” She giggles as Dani bends forward and plants a line of kisses up the mark.

She sits up but stays leaning, meaning their faces are oh-so-close together, “Better?”

“Uh huh.” Aubrey moves in, kissing her and getting a happy sigh and a kiss back.

“I have some more apology ideas.” Dani gives her a mischievous smile.

“Fuck, guh, um, don’t think I can tonight. We have a match tomorrow and Juno might literally kill me if I come in super late and wake her up. Tomorrow night do you wanna, like, go to dinner?”

“Definitely.” Dani stands and Aubrey mirrors her, “if I don’t see you before then, good luck tomorrow.”

“Am I gonna see my favorite fan in the stands tomorrow?” Aubrey purrs hopefully moving in for one last kiss. Dani obliges, then kisses her nose.

“You know it, hot stuff.”

#danbrey #aubrey little/dani #meet ugly #Prompt Fills #TAZ Amnesty

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mckenzierossistory · 4 years ago

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Solo [Background Story Part One]

This is my story.

My parents are Donovan Rossi is a Navy Seal, Master Chief Petty Officer, and Angel Rossi, she was a singer; my grandparents are Alden Rossi, a Navy Seal, Captain, and Isabella Rossi is a music teacher. I’m McKenzie Grace Rossi. I was born July 28, on the hottest day in the summer. We lived in Nashville, Tennessee. Daddy said that they were very excited to have me. It was a blessing to them; it took a long time to get pregnant with me. When l starts to get older, my father, when away a lot to protect our country. Mama, when on tour, she makes sure she called me. So I am with my grandparents a lot. My Grandaddy was very strict about things, but Granny wasn’t until you piss her off. I wonder where l get my temper from, a southern woman that carries a wooden spoon that will fixin’ you real fast. Granny ensured that I was always busy; music was a big part of my life with my Mama and Granny. One day mama was on tour, the news announced that Angel Savannah Rossi was murder by a fan.

My Grandparents knew that they would have to protect me more. I start to look like my mama with the sassy, southern girl charm that can charm off a man’s pants. Granny said to Grandaddy and Daddy that will be a special man that can handle me when l get a little older. My daddy knew that his mama was right. Still, for now, Daddy didn’t want to lose me from mama fan, he put in a request to move to Florida; my grandparents took me to Florida before Daddy came back from his mission; we are on base the time Daddy got back, he knew we are safe, Grandaddy chuckles at the guys as l got older. I started to look like my mama; Daddy was growling at his unit, warn them about me that I’m off-limits. Throughout high school, l wanted to be a cop; I didn’t want to be Navy Seal like my Granddaddy and Daddy. I applied for the police academy I have gotten in; I had to work twice as hard as everyone else because my granddaddy and father are Navy Seals; when l graduate from the police academy, I went to Narcotics Unit, I did a lot of undercover work. I was offered to go to Sniper school. I had to go to DMO Camp Geiger, the United States Marine Corps base in Jacksonville, North Carolina.

We got off the bus, meet Gunnery Sergeant Thomas Trooper, then l meet Master Gunnery Sergeant Jayce Caelan. He was a tall guy. I had to prove myself a lot l was the only female on the base at the time; I learned a lot about being the best sniper, a lot of rumors about Master Gunnery Sergeant Jayce Caelan that he was the best sniper in the world. A lot of the guys start to notice me. Master Gunnery Sergeant Jayce Caelan has a stop of that; I was here to learn. Graduation hit, my family was there. A few months later, l was on the roof, my phone ring; I couldn’t talk when l am on a case. He left a message asking me to come to meet him. A few days later, I sent him a text message because my partner's wife got hold of my cell phone; she knew that l had the hottest for Master Gunnery Sergeant Jayce Caelan.

The date is set to go to the bar off base to meet him. My partner's wife picked out a very sexy emerald dress with a pair of black Jimmy Choo’s, a very sexy lace black bra, and matching panties. I drove to the bar. I was very excited and very nervous about seeing Master Gunnery Sergeant Jayce Caelan again. I step in. The guys that l graduate with are snipers. They are whistling and hollering at me. I saw Gunnery Sergeant Thomas Trooper hugs him. We talked a little he knew l was a sniper for the swat team; he hears that he was undercover.

The bartender steps out of the bar hugging me, he asked me what l wanted to drink, and l told him a glass of white wine. I couldn’t get away from Gunnery Sergeant Thomas Trooper; then, I saw Master Gunnery Sergeant Jayce Caelan as the song of “Burnin’ it down, by Jason Alden.” Master Gunnery Sergeant Jayce Caelan has a smirk on his face telling the guys that they are dismissed. I smiled, taking a sit with Master Gunnery Sergeant Jayce Caelan in the corner of the bar with him talking about everything and anything. He told me to stop calling him Master Gunnery Sergeant Jayce Caelan; I just called him Jayce. I feel his hand on mine, then we kissed. That night was unforgettable with him; a month later, l found l was carrying Jayce’s baby. I sent Jayce to tell him, but l knew that he was on a mission in Iraq. Sergeant Majors Pete Cox and l start to become friends; I have gotten into some trouble with the Russian Mob with a case. So Sargeant Majors Pete Cox starts to protect me. I passed out in the house. I was rush to the hospital to have #AshleyLynnCaelan on July 24.

A few years later, #AshleyLynn, she is turning three years old, she is so excited about having her Birthday in Miami, Grandaddy and Granny live next to us, I couldn’t believe who l am seeing it’s Jayce. We started to talk; we had our first date on the beach was romantic. He moved in; I finally told Jayce that #AshleyLynn is his daughter, giving him proof of it along with her birth certificate; we got married on April 14, 2019; the wedding was a surprise for him, I had a lot of help to pull off for us. Then we went to visit my mother's parents; I was pregnant with our little boy, I miscarriage on him that broken my heart along with Jayce’s heart we pulled threw it then we got #AngelSavannah, a few months later Jayce got his assignment the girls always send him pictures, and letters and AshleyLynn put a teddy bear in Jayce bag so he will have someone to keep him company. #TBC

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elisaphoenix13 · 5 years ago

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The Sorcerer's Cub (Ch.2)

Stephen woke to small fingers touching his goatee and when he opened his eyes, they met brown bambi eyes that shined happily. That had been one of the best things he woke up to. A happy baby patiently waiting for his mother to wake up instead of toddling off and getting into trouble.

"Good morning Peter."

"Mama, hungry."

Stephen chuckles. "You're always hungry Spiderling."

He got up though and after changing Peter into a fresh diaper and dressing them both for the day, he carries the baby down to the kitchen. To his surprise, he found Scott standing at the counter eating some cereal while scrolling through his phone, and when he looked up he actually spit-taked when he saw Peter. Stephen merely responded by slapping Scott upside the head as he walked past him to open the cupboards and figure out what to feed Peter for breakfast. With the hopes that his garbage disposal of a teenage son was hiding somewhere in baby Peter's appetite, he pulled out some instant oatmeal.

"So did you give in to temptation or was this an accident?" Scott asks before shoving another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

"Peter got hit by some advanced alien tech while on patrol." Stephen answers as he situates Peter onto his hip and holds out the packet of oatmeal for Scott to open. While he does that, Stephen starts boiling some water.

"How long?" Scott returns the open packet to the sorcerer.

"Possibly up to two weeks. Are you busy today?"

"Aww...are you asking me out on a date?" Stephen levels an unimpressed look at Scott who shrugs. "No. Why do you think I'm up here?"

"To steal our food and Peter's juice." Stephen responds without missing a beat and Peter perks up.

"Juice?" Peter asks with a bit of hope in his eyes.

"I got you Shortstack."

With his free hand, Stephen opens a small portal to the baby supplies up in the master bedroom and grabs a sippy cup. He hands the cup to Scott as the small portal closes and the other man fills it with apple juice. He dilutes it with some water and then hands it to Peter, and the baby drinks from the sippy cup while Stephen finishes making oatmeal. They didn't have a high chair to put Peter in so Stephen had to resort to holding the child in his lap and feeding him that way. He would have let Peter feed himself, but he wanted to try and avoid having food dropped on him, and by some small miracle, Peter was happy to be fed.

Scott sat in the living room and watched tv while he waited for Stephen and Peter to finish breakfast, and it wasn't a very long wait. Teenage Peter was definitely still in charge of baby Peter's appetite so he wasn't picky about the oatmeal and ate more than Stephen originally thought he would. The sorcerer chuckles when some of the oatmeal ends up on Peter's face, and the baby tries to squirm away when Stephen tries to clean him off with a napkin.

"Peter, hold still. Your face is a mess!"

Stephen sighs as the boy continues to squirm and he takes him over to the sink where he sets Peter on the counter and wets a paper towel. A dry napkin probably didn't feel good on Peter's sensitive skin, so he figured that maybe a wet paper towel would be more easily accepted. The baby didn't squirm as much this time around, only when the doctor had to scrub a little bit at drier pieces of cereal. Once Peter was oatmeal free, Stephen takes him back up to the master bedroom and changes him into a clean diaper before he dresses him in what little clothes they had for him. His hands started to shake afterwards though and he glared at them, mentally demanding them to stop because he still had to get dressed himself and Peter wasn't likely to let Scott hold him.

"Mama hurt?" Peter asks from his sitting position on the bed.

Stephen forces a smile he didn't feel. "No cub. Now you stay right there while I get dressed."

Peter waits patiently on the bed while Stephen get a dressed, the sorcerer of course keeping one eye on the baby at all times, and then picking him up once he finishes. The sorcerer eyes him curiously when Peter wraps his arms around Stephen's neck, and then drops his arms from under Peter to test his theory. When the baby remains on his hip with no effort of any kind, it proved that Peter still had his powers. That would help Stephen immensely in the future what with his hands not being strong enough to hold the baby all day.

He just hoped Peter didn't figure out he could climb on the walls too.

"Ready to go to the store Spiderling?"

"Yup!"

Stephen smiles and hooks one arm under Peter, and then grabs his phone, wallet, and sling ring as he walks out of the master bedroom and down to the living room. He creates a portal to the nearest Target and motions to it with his head when he looks at Scott. The man turns off the television and follows the sorcerer through it and they turn around the corner from the side of the building to the front and walk inside. It was still a bit early on a weekday, so there weren't many people shopping, but it wouldn't have really mattered. He and Scott weren't as significant as the some other members of the team and Stephen was just fine with that. He could take his time getting Peter what he needed for the next couple of weeks without being swarmed.

"So are we splitting up and making this go faster or what?" Scott asks as Stephen retrieves a cart and deposits Peter into the seat.

"Here." The sorcerer conjures up a list and hands it over to the thief. "You're an experienced parent. Go get these and some diapers for a two year old."

Scott looks Peter over. "Isn't he at that age where you can start potty training him?"

"I'm not going to bother when this is only going to last a couple of weeks."

"Diapers can get expensive."

Stephen raises an eyebrow at Scott. "I'm married to a billionaire."

"Fair."

"I'll be in the children's section." The sorcerer informs the other man as he walks over to the children's section and over to the clothes.

He had to double check the tags on the clothes Peter was currently wearing before he looked at anything, and he threw a few extra sets of summer clothes into the cart while simultaneously taking things from Peter that the baby managed to get a hold of. It was mostly just clothes and they were returned to the racks without much trouble, but then Stephen took him down the toy aisle.

Brown eyes widen in awe and delight at the vast assortment of toys, and the sorcerer allowed him to pick a few toys since teenage Peter didn't own anything suitable for young children. To Stephen's surprise, Peter only picked out about four toys, and just when he was about to leave the aisle, the baby suddenly screeched happily.

"Bear!" Peter points up to a higher shelf and Stephen looks up to find a fluffy brown teddy bear that was almost as big as the baby himself. "Please Mama?"

Stephen smiles softly and reaches up to grab the stuffed toy. "Well, since you asked so nicely."

Peter giggles and cuddles the bear as soon as the doctor hands it to him, and Stephen looks back up when stuff gets thrown into the cart. He stares at the variety of items that Scott had just dumped into it and then looks up at the thief.

"Three boxes of diapers?"

Scott points at the sorcerer. "Trust me Mama Bear. You'll thank me later. You're better off over prepared than sending one of us off in the middle of the night for more."

Stephen shrugs, not about to argue with that logic and they make their way to the registers. The cashier seemed to study Stephen as she rang up their purchases, maybe trying to figure out why he looked so familiar, but then she saw the ring on the doctor's left hand when he pulled out his wallet and visibly deflated. She was actually checking him out and it would have gone completely over Stephen's head if she hadn't looked at his hand.

Scott managed to hold in his laughter until after they paid and went around the side of the building once they walked outside. The sorcerer kicks the thief in his shins as he opens a portal and grabs Peter who was still happily playing with his stuffed bear, leaving Scott to grab everything else after a hiss of pain. Stephen closes the portal as soon as the ex-con carries everything through and he sets Peter down on the floor.

"You stay here and play with your bear. Okay?"

"Kay!"

Stephen crouches down to brush back unruly brown curls and gently kisses Peter's forehead before standing back up and helping Scott put things away. He very briefly went upstairs to put some of the baby supplies in the master bedroom while Scott kept an eye on Peter, but it was long enough for someone to step onto the family floor and make Peter screech happily again. Before he could panic though, a string of Italian sentences followed the happy noise.

"Bambino!" Tony was home, and Stephen stepped out of the room just in time to see his husband scoop up their son and his teddy bear to kiss him all over his face. "Where's Mama Bear?"

"Upstairs putting some things away in the bedroom." Scott replies from the couch.

"Daddy! Look!" Peter holds up the bear (or at least tries to) to Tony and the engineer grins.

"Who got that for you?"

"Mama!" The baby answers with a smile and Stephen walks down the stairs to join them.

"I thought you had meetings until tomorrow?" He asks after Tony pecks him on the cheek.

"I did...but then I decided that I wanted to enjoy my baby as a baby while I can." Tony sets Peter back down on the floor and takes off his sunglasses. "You just get back from the store?"

"He left behind a trail of broken hearts." Scott says with a cheeky smile and the billionaire raises an eyebrow.

"He's exaggerating. The cashier was disappointed when she saw the ring." Stephen says with a roll of his eyes.

Tony just smiles and pulls him into a proper kiss. "That's right. You're my wife and Peter is my--" He looks down at their son and finds the baby leaning against his teddy bear and rubbing his eyes. "He's apparently my very sleepy baby."

Stephen smiles. "Your turn."

"Giving up the baby willingly? Who are you?" His husband asks with mock surprise.

"I'm not. I'm joining your nap that I know you're going to take with him."

"Don't break anything Thumbelina." Tony says as he once again picks up Peter, getting a 'no promises' in response from Scott. "Nap time ragazzino."

Stephen leans over to pick up the teddy bear that their dozing child had dropped, and he follows his husband back up to the bedroom. Stephen cuddles with Peter on the bed while Tony changes into more suitable clothes for lounging at home, and the elder man joins them on the other side of the baby. He turns on the tv as Stephen curls into his side with Peter, and gently cards his hand through the sorcerer's hair.

"Tired tesoro?"

Stephen hums quietly. "No. It's like you said. I'm just enjoying our baby while he's a baby."

"He's a cute baby." Tony whispers as the younger lays his head on his shoulder.

Although Stephen wasn't tired, he still fell asleep to Tony's ministrations, and the engineer had dozed off with his arm around the doctor. Peter safely nestled between them with his teddy bear and a thumb in his mouth.

#mama bear stephen strange #supremefamily #ironstrange #peter parker #tony stark #stephen strange #scott lang

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brightlilies-a · 5 years ago

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fourfold flames.

“there are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle, or the mirror that reflects it.” - edith wharton.

--- --- ---

the orange glow flickers as it waves across the faces and bodies that surround it. a perfect centerpiece, and yet no eyes linger upon it, each of the outside circle looking to the children dancing on the inside, and each dancer looking to each other, caught up in the rhythm. light music floats on the air, played on lyres and pan flutes and improvised drums and the susurrus of idle conversation. overhead, menphina watches over her children, and whispers soft words through the leaves, that they may somehow reach their ears.

a pair of amber gazes rest upon the smallest of the troupe, watching every rise and fall of the red and white colored crown with solemn expressions. albi’a shifts slowly to face his mother, and, noting her intensity, turns back to the campfire. crackle, fizzle, snap.

“i want bibi ta grow up happy.” there were only a few things he agreed upon with his mother anymore, now that he was older. before, it was easier to ignore all the problems, how utterly dysfunctional their lives had become in exchange for some semblance of togetherness and tradition that would otherwise fall apart at a moment’s notice. but, when it came to the beaming, giggling child who was still enamored with this horrid, cruel world, the two of them could set aside their differences… to an extent.

“and you think i don’t?” she scoffs, refusing to even glance his way.

that’s just like her. his eyes roll up and down as he shifts to plant the palms of his hands on the ground behind him, taking a more leisurely approach. “i think ye know he won’t be happy here. kahli’s too tough on him.”

“just because you hate it doesn’t mean he will.” narrowed eyes glare at her following that, with a click of his tongue announcing his more immediate distaste. they could just dismiss it all as simply tradition, when they weren’t the ones who dealt with the scorn and biting remarks night-in and night-out. heaving a sigh, though, he straightens his posture, and raises a lackadaisical palm——getting mad wouldn’t get him anywhere, and worse, it’d likely drag the kit still skipping about the fire over in a fretful fit.

no, another tactic would be better for proving his point.

“ye really think he’ll take ta bein’ a wanderer all by his lonesome, ma? he cries if we ask him ta jus’ watch camp by himself. he’s too soft.”

finally deigning to grace him with her attention, aged amber shifts to her left, countering him with a calm flick of her tail, “and do you really think that becoming an adventurer is better-suited for him if he’s so kind? it’s just as dangerous, if not more.”

“i think he’ll take ta helpin’ people. he likes ‘em plenty,” proudly relaxing, his lips tug into a smirk, “even if he prolly shouldn’t.”

the matron huffs, folding her arms against her breast, “that’s because he’s mimicking you!”

“then i’ll just become an adventurer so he’ll mimic that, too—” his teasing is cut short by a giggling shadow casting itself over the pair with its large, red ears standing tall and attentive compared to the rest of his diminutive stature. blue and orange peek out from beneath messy white bangs, wide and wondering and filled to the brim with twinkling pride as the child hovers, swaying this way and that.

“bi’a!! mama!! didja see me?” the innocent voice beckoning them pulls them away from the moment prior, as their gazes soften and the frustration melts away. his mother is the first between them to speak, earnestly reaching up to tug upon the child’s freckled cheeks while taking a saccharine tone.

“—of course, my bibi boy! you were so cute, dancing like your sisters!”

yer lying, albi’a thinks to himself, because ye only saw as much as i did.

“don’t encourage him, he’s a boy.” unable to get a word in before a cold, harsh voice called from the group of girls near the fire, albi’a’s expression sours at his sister, if only momentarily.

“stop being mean ta him, sis! yer jus’ jealous he’s better ‘an you are!” albi’a retorts back, letting his shite-eating grin grow as large as it could.

“—i’m not jealous of him!” their elder sister huffs and stomps, with her red braids lifting as she turns away from the scene. unlike the two elder keepers willing to leave things at that, however, albi’to’s lips tug into a frown. a moment later, his red moccasins hit the ground, and soon after he takes his sister’s arm into his hold, quite stubbornly refusing to let go amid her attempts to wave him off.

“i’ll teach ye, matar! it must be really hard ta move well, since ye have yer nose in books all day!”

“get off me! your steps are clumsier than mine are!”

looking to his mother’s face, albi’a finds himself staring at the lines, the cuts that didn’t heal right, the melancholy her expression always seemed to bear. he’d known, always, why bi’to was the favorite child——even if she tried to say there were no favorites. it came easier to like him. he wasn’t damaged; he hadn’t watched his father die. he and matar, on the other hand, grew up before their tenth namedays, while bi’to was still a child that saw the world in kinder lights than they. and what a treasure it was, what a thing to want to protect. how unrealistic; how horrible it would be for him later.

“i don’t want him to be an adventurer, bi’a.” she speaks suddenly and he flinches, slack-jawed and blank of mind. he takes a moment, and newly recomposed, calmly retorts back,

“yer fine with me wantin’ ta be one.”

but she expects this, red crown shaking back and forth slowly. even as she takes her loose braid into her hands, laying it to rest over her shoulder and running her fingers over the flow of her hair, however, her eyes refuse to leave the child now tugging his elder sister around, speaking in excitable gibberish that would only make sense to he and his, “because it suits you. you’ve always wanted more than this life, but he… all that bibi wants is this. laughter and smiles and togetherness.”

“it’ll get taken away from him when he’s an adult.”

“maybe things will be different by then.”

is that how it is? pray it changes fer his sake? the young man sighs, running a hand through his patches of red and white hair, tousling it for good measure. what a nice dream that would be, if it could be true. “hundreds a years o’ traditions won’t change in a few moons, ma.”

--- --- ---

after horrible things happen, the land grows quiet, as if also in mourning.

holding his own makeshift skewer over the flame, albi’to watches the silhouette of the rat they’d found some malms back turn over and over, its lanky, skinned body little more than a weird tumor upon the branch. it wasn’t much by comparison. the twins had received dodo fledglings that hadn’t escaped the initial blaze for their help in the scavenging, pahje was happily licking her lips as she turned over her round of piglet, which had been otherwise split between kahli, his sister and his mother. and meanwhile, despite being the one who had found the piglet squealing in a bush and had put it out of its misery, he sat, staring at a rat.

there wasn’t much meat on rodents, and even less given how much of it was taken by the fire that had killed it. but kahli’s decisions were final, and so the burdens were given the smallest amount. that was what she had started calling him since the lesser moon fell: a burden. he didn’t give it much thought——thinking about things was how one got upset about them, and it wouldn’t change anything even if he did. nobody talked back to kahli. kahli was the one who led the tribe. kahli’s decisions were final.

even so, the crackle of the fire was one of the few sounds he could properly make out against the oppressive silence. occasionally, something would snap! or combust a little too quickly, a little too loudly, with such a suddenness against the pall of death that it startled the whole of their group, and it would take some few minutes before they all calmly sat once more. the earth was still; the smoke was somewhere to the north now; nobody, no animals, nothing passed them by this night. how strange, he muses silently as his gaze drifts upward, past the branches and leaves to the starry sky above, to see the night again, when just a few nights ago that unending crimson from the lover’s hound was all they knew.

“we should celebrate,” he breaks the silence, raising his gaze from his poor excuse for a meal and the dancing flame to the people that encircled it, “since we’re alive.”

he’s met with an uneasy silence and six pairs of eyes boring into his face, some losing interest quicker than others. after a few seconds, most of them had returned to their anxiety and disquieted thoughts, but a warm, gentle voice humors him quietly, “celebrate how, bibi?”

his mother shifts, standing and shuffling to sit beside him with her pork skewer in hand. her shoulder nudges his in that encouraging way, as her crown dips to catch his gaze——as if he were only a few summers old and hiding secrets too big to hold. she continues to nudge and prod, with her elbow and the back of her hand and a few more times with her shoulder until his lips tug into a smile and he laughs. batting her away softly, he shakes his head, catching the bit of courage he had before it would fly away, like an ember up into the sky, and exhales.

“we could…” cheeks bubble as his voice trails——he hadn’t thought that far. so he simmers in contemplation, focusing his attention on the firepit as he stomps in place, waiting for inspiration to come. what could they do, after all, with no food and only a fire? just a fire… but all they needed was a flame! “dance around the fire an’ send our thanks ta menphina fer protectin’ us! it’d be like old—”

“as soon as we finish eating, we sleep.” opposite him, the silver haired chieftain stares him down, sharpened gold unwilling to budge. her voice, cold, dry, hollow, brings back the silence in an instant, and a chill runs back up his spine.

“but—” the word has left before he realizes, but even that is cut short.

“we will sleep through the night as most stragglers will pass through the day. if they find us, they’ll steal what we have and kill us for scavengers.” kahli succinctly lifts her skewer from the flame, blowing at the steaming meat as she gestures to the girl beside her with a nod, “pahje will take the first watch.”

she wasn’t incorrect. few of the remaining survivors in the wood would travel by night, given the complexities of the paths prior to the devastation, and among them would be scavengers and bandits more than willing to take up the opportunity for easy pickings. but her honesty pulls his lips taut and sets a weight on his chest. pahje, however, the spitting image of her mother, looked more akin to a giggling jackal as she watched him through the fire——probably some secret between them, as there always was.

“i can help her with that—” albi offers in spite of whatever had his tribal sister in stitches, but finds the pattern follows true. speaking only led to being silenced; male keepers were to be neither seen nor heard.

“we don’t need a burden keeping watch.”

a moment passes, and his mother’s hand lands comfortingly upon his own, fingers squeezing his. spitefully, though, the boy lifts his rat skewer to his lips, digging fang and teeth into the scalding hot flesh before ripping away. it hurt, it burned, it was way too hot going down and brought tears to his eyes as the pain sank in, but it’d stay his tongue. and that was all he needed.

“kahli, you’re being too harsh—” with a sigh, his mother shakes her head in earnest defeat. she pauses, however, and after wrapping an arm about her son’s shoulder, squeezes him snugly against her side. “... you can sleep near me tonight, okay? i’ll feel better having you within reach, just in case.”

--- --- ---

there was no chimney in the renovated storehouse they called their home. in the middle of winter, the pair of keepers were wont to carve out a section of the floor, marked with gathered stones, and built small campfires to heat the cold air that now blew in from coerthas to the north. during those months, mother and son slept in the same bed in the room with the fire, buried under layers of ratty blankets, listening to the embers as they burned themselves out. tonight, though, the matron sits up, running her fingers through her slumbering child’s red locks, smiling wryly in the dark.

“you’re not happy here, are you?” her hand comes to a slow, expression tightening as she shakes her head, “you’d lie, though. some awful lie with that sad smile he taught you.”

the light from the fire flickers dimly, the small flame’s shadow dancing proudly upon the wall. outside the window, she catches the sound of strong winds blustering against the cabin walls, and instinctively reaches to pull one of the blankets more snugly over him, “you know… if we were still out there, we wouldn’t be together anymore. i’d still be with your sister and kahli and…” she pauses, flattening her lips, “you’d be… somewhere.”

somewhere in the twelveswood, by himself, hunting game purely for company that would never want him for more than a few bells, never truly. perhaps they’d cross paths once if menphina blessed them, under the guise of scavenging in the same lands or chasing the same prey, but he’d never be able to stay. they’d say their hello’s, he’d lie horrible fibs to be pleasant, believing it wouldn’t worry her, and he’d disappear into the shade of night. was she so horrible, then, for thinking dalamud’s fall a blessing in disguise? so many people lost things, they lost things, but the young man clinging to his own tail was given a chance at finding joy in a life otherwise set up to disappoint him.

“your brother was right, you know? you would never be happy with that life.” beginning to pry his fingers from the fabric of his tunic, the woman sighs, “maybe i’ve been holding onto you too tightly, though… people have a tendency to leave me, after all. your father, your brother… then your sister.”

after tugging his arms apart and batting away the long-haired tail eating up needed space on this rather small, stained and torn mattress, she looks to his face, still calm, still asleep. how he ever slept so soundly was a miracle of its own, but it was a relief for nights like these. “you’re all i have left. my bibi, my precious bibi boy.” the three words that pull her lips into a delighted smile every time without fail, yet such elation quickly fades, “but i have to let you go now, don’t i? i knew one day i’d have to, but i didn’t think i’d have to give you a push to make you leave the nest, so it’s not that easy…”

jumping as he shifts where he lays, she stifles the gasp that rises in her throat, exhaling a moment later when he settles again with a curse. twelve forfend, if he’s been listening...

“give me a heart attack and i’ll leave you faster than you’ll leave me…!” with a scoff, the matron lowers herself into her spot and pulls the blankets over herself. she turns away to look at the fire, to watch the amber glow that reminded her of that life long gone, of shadows dancing around a fire, calling at her to watch them, to watch him. “he was wrong, though. all it took was a single moon, and everything’s different.”

--- --- ---

there’s something horrible about fire, albi’to thinks, when it rains from the sky. each rumble of the ground beneath them has him hesitate, has him second-guess when and where he is, because the smell of smoke and burning and panic and death never changes. the tightness in his chest from knowing a molten rock might come crashing down and steal him away to the lifestream never changes.

it wasn’t intentional, because that would mean emet-selch cared enough to look into a shard of a person’s past, but damn did it cut deeply. that the glamour of the ascian’s most painful memory was so reminiscent of the seventh umbral calamity was a haunting, harrowing, horrible experience to both live and relive. it stole away his breath at times, forcing him to clutch his chest when his memory of the calamity bled over emet-selch’s, and he always brushed the looks that came his way off with unconvincing lies the scions wouldn’t press. the meteors that landed closer were the worst, the heat affronting him in gusts before the shards flew past, both real and unreal, painful and not. as they darted through the falling city, his gaze would occasionally linger on the faces and backs of his comrades, wondering if they felt the same.

if they did, it likely wasn’t all that similar.

none of them spoke of where they were when the lesser moon fell and the dreadwyrm rose. not many in eorzea did. mentions of the calamity came up every now and then, especially near the rising, but there was no pride in being a survivor to that nightmare. there was no winning in what happened that day, only loss.

but it was a gut feeling of his that while he braved the land only malms from where one of dalamud’s fragments fell into the earth and set the land ablaze, that his companions in the scions watched the world irrevocably change from within walled venues. there was no shame in such, but it was a different experience. even among his friends, there were some chosen few he could think of that would’ve, based on the stories they exchanged, bore witness to the red sky from within eorzea.

they were all experiencing walking through this hellscape, however. even if they felt no attachment to the simulacra running about, falling over, breaking apart, the carnage was real. the threat of death and the sight of loss was real. like an echo vision, specially tailored for those without the elder primal’s blessing.

he brushes the soot off his arms, eyeing the portal of aether on the far side of the makeshift arena carefully. a dark, swirling vortex that was, like everything else in this liminal space, made for them to follow, made to guide them to the ascian himself. deeming themselves okay to proceed, the keeper’s ears twitch as their footfalls echo off the floor, and instinctively, he reaches out… and grabs nothing.

“hold up,” pulling his closed fist back, he pauses, mulling over if he should speak——but he already had, so he might as well finish the thought, “we dunno what awaits us on the other side of that, so lemme say something.”

silver-tongued words meet him just as quickly, and the teasing in thancred’s tone was only matched by the humored smile gracing his features. “i find it rather cliché to give a parting speech before what may be the final battle. friend.”

“heh, maybe, but it ain’t a good-bye.” it was hard not to laugh as he shrugged, albeit airy and hoarse with all the soot and dust permeating the space, “... it’s a thank you.”

“that might just be worse!”

“then it’s worse, and i’m sayin’ it anyway.” a wag of his finger manages to quiet the hyur from any further complaints (a trick he’d picked up from her), and he tugs his lips into a gracious grin, looking to each of the scions softly, “thank ye, though, fer bein’ here fer me. i know minfilia was the one that wanted the scions ta be like family fer me, an’ she prolly said that ta any green recruit she got, but i really think of ye all that way. you, too, ryne.”

pressing the tips of his fingers against his collarbone as he pauses to gather his thoughts, his chin dips, crown shaking subtly back and forth, “honestly, i didn’t think i’d get a family again after the calamity, but then, ‘fore i knew it, i did. the twelve blessed me with all o’ ye, so no matter what happens, i’ll always have yer backs, because ye guys have mine.”

what greets him as he lifts his head, however, is a round of silence, as the group looks to one another with unreadable expressions. after a few seconds, all attention returns to face him, as if expecting something more——he hadn’t said anything wrong, had he? beginning to fear the worst, albi hurriedly goes back over his words in his head, trying to find the—

“done yet?” alisaie chimes, smirking proudly.

“h-huh?”

urianger nods, continuing the charade, “tis no secret how highly you think of us.”

“guys, come on…!” taken aback, the dancer’s expression widens with embarrassment, pink staining his freckled cheeks.

“not that it isn’t pleasant to hear you say it every now and again.” y’shtola’s arms fold before her, humored visage tilting just for emphasis.

in a last ditch effort for someone to not tease him so harshly, odd eyes plead with the elezen twin that’s so often stood at his side, that’s been characteristically quiet this entire time, “a-alphy, back me up…!”

but given the smile playing upon his face, even alphinaud was caught up in the chance to catch the warrior of light off-guard, as he so pridefully chides, “personally, i could do with you mentioning it a little less.”

even as his flustered face burns amid their amused giggling, however, albi cracks a smile and shakes his head. looking out at them, the group of scholars all brought together by a common cause that had welcomed him into their fold that day in thanalan, fills him with a comforting peace, a friendly reminder that all would be well, that all was how it should be. even if what awaited him on the other side was certain death, they had each other to defy the odds and face that future together with. and for now, they needed him to play his part, and so he would.

mustering the lingering hint of frustration before it might float away on the breeze, albi brushes past the group and jogs toward aetherial tear, calling out behind him, “f-fine! let’s move on then, if’n me sayin’ all that was really unnecessary…”

the last thing he heard, though, before the flow pulled him in, was ryne’s concerned voice chasing after him, “aw, albi… i thought it was nice anyway…!”

#🏶: tails & tales. ( drabbles. )#[ twirls. so maybe this took me. longer than i thought to write #but u know experimenting with narrative structure is fun. claps my hands.#it's a bit messy bc i cant have my usual beta reader check stuff for me given spoilers and whatnot but #all in all proud of myself for uh. finger guns. all the symbols motifs and other literary hoohah shoved in here.#slaps the top of this drabble. u won't believe how much literary stuff will fit in here kids ]

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hrhduchessoflancaster · 6 years ago

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Chapter Eighty-Eight: The Fox Protocol - Part One

A/N: Thank you all so much for your comments! They really brighten up my day. xx Bea

Disclaimer: see Prologue.

__________________________________________________

The next months into the Summer were turbulent. The immediate shock of the news had faded but the bitter aftertaste still hanged on both Harry and Elle’s mouths, specially the way it was handed to them. After the Christening, the couple, baby Arthur and Sir Lancelot had moved to South Hartfield for the time being. Until the media and the government knew what was going on and even after that, Sussex would be their safe heaven away from the public eye. There, they could spend some quality time with baby Arthur, watching him change and grow.

“ Darling, come and look! He’s said something!”, shouted Elle from the living room. Harry came running and saw his wife sitting on the floor with Arthur on her lap as Lancelot played fetch with a tennis ball that Elle would throw at him. And every time he dashed across the room, Arthur would giggle. He sat down beside her, making Arthur turns his head and give his dad a toothless grin.

“ Come on, little bear. Say it again for daddy to hear it.”, urged Elle. The baby watched his mother then his father for a moment before giggling as Lancelot dropped the ball, anxiously waiting for it to be thrown again. Harry took it in his hand and prepared to throw it.

“ Lancelot… fetch!”, he shouted and soon the Jack Russel was running after the ball. Arthur squealed in delight as the dog came back with the ball and clapped his hands.

“ Good boy, Lancelot!”, said Elle, caressing the animals head.

“ Ya! Ya!”, babbled Arthur, making his parents look at him.

“ You did it! You said it again!”, exclaimed Elle grinning. She looked to Harry who was stunned and had a huge smiled plastered on his face.

“ He said something! He did it!”, he said to her. "You said something! You said your almost first word!”, he then said to baby Arthur, picking him up and and lifting him in his arms, making the boy giggle.

“ Although I can’t believe it was our dog’s name…”, he said to his son shaking his head. Arthur didn’t seem to understand his father so he giggled again, making it seem as if he did. Elle smiled and chuckled, walking towards the duo and kissing both of them on the cheek.

“ My boys…”, she said lovingly, hugging Harry’s waist, resting her head on his shoulder as she caressed Arthur’s back.

In a matter of days, a routine had been stablished in the estate and baby Arthur was thriving. The staff and RPO’s were besotted with him. The little boy had captured every one’s hearts. John had come back from his commanding position to reenforce the security around the estate alongside Leo, Alfred and Ingrid. They, of course, knew about the handover process which was, for the next two weeks, a need to know information.

Out of the records, William had already left the line of succession and moved to Norfolk, where he, Kate and the children would remain until everything was properly settled for them in Wales where he’d resume his work as a helicopter pilot. Meanwhile, Harry had begun filling his brother’s shoes as heir to the heir presumptive. The handover process was being called by the Prime Minister, the Privy Council and the security teams as The Fox Protocol.

However much the Queen tried to make amends, Harry’s relationship to William and Charles was strained. They hadn’t talked for weeks. And while Elle understood where her husband was coming from, she also knew that although a little selfish, her brother-in-law was thinking about what was best for his family, as Harry would too had he been in the same situation. Only now, of course, he was. And even though he wanted nothing more than to do exactly what William had done, he wouldn’t back down from this challenge. His mother had taught him as much. As had his grandmother. Albeit reluctantly, he took the task that was handed to him, as did Elle.

“ I know you didn’t sign up for this but I guess that’s our reality now.”, he had said to her one night, after apologising once again for getting her into the mess that was his life.

“ For better, for worse darling. We’re in this together.”, she had replied, taking his hand into hers and squeezing it.

“ I know, my love. But I’d never want our family to be in the centre of attention as it’s about to be. That’s the last I want to do and you know it. I want Arthur to have a somewhat normal childhood.”, said Harry.

“ Of course, darling. And I understand it. But… don’t you think that… considering how it’s going to be from now on, it’s best if we try to adapt and maybe rethink the way we view the media?”, said Elle and Harry gave her a confused look, ready to protest what she was saying.

“ Just hear me out, okay?, she said and he nodded his head.

“ I’ve seen, time and time again, how the media seeks the Royal Family out whenever they can. Now, I may be wrong but I believe that happens because we’re not more open to them and the public. Take the Swedish Royal Family for example. They make documentaries, televise their celebrations, are more transparent with their meetings. And the media doesn’t hunt them down like they do here. I know, I know that the proportions are different but think about it, Harry. Maybe if we have them closer, we could better control them. And they’d wouldn’t need to chase us so badly.”, said Elle.

Harry looked at her for a few moments and pondered over her words. What she had told him was true, as much as he hated to accept and admit it. “Maybe you’re right. But let’s say we try this. Won't we lose our privacy? Our child’s privacy?”, said Harry.

“ We start small. Baby steps, my darling. We can release some pictures and small videos os Arthur and the Christening. Maybe we should have an Instagram account. That’d help. We can talk to Ronald, Daniel and Lisa about that.”, said Elle.

“ I don’t know, Elle. I’m not sure I feel comfortable with that.”, said Harry. She looked at him sighed and caressed his cheek.

“ I know you’re scared, my love. So am I. But we have to think of the future now and how we’re going to manage it. I don’t want us to have to hide or fear paparazzi constantly transpassing our backyard for a picture when we could offer that to them. If we gave the public what they want, and made a deal with the press, we can protect those around us.” said Elle.

“ I need to think about this, okay?”, said Harry and Elle nodded her head. She really hoped he would.

**********

Elle’s parents, brother and Valerie had been nothing but supportive of their current situation. They were, however, concerned about her and her family. After a quick trip to Scotland, Rupert, Victoria and Edward had come for a little stay in Sussex, along with Valerie.

“ I can’t believe this is happening…”, said Victoria as they sat together in the garden, watching Rupert, Edward and Harry walk and play with Arthur.

“ To be honest, it’s been hard to process it, mama.”, replied Elle. “ Will has always been so committed, so focused on his duty and his family that it shocked us all when he told us. None more than Harry.”

“ I can’t imagine what he… what you both have been through. How are you holding up?”, asked Valerie. Elle sighed and looked ahead of her to see Harry giving a smile to Arthur. Nowadays, those smiles were rare and he reserved for Arthur and her.

“ As good as we can.”, she replied. “ We’ve done our best to distance ourselves for a while and focus on Arthur. Meanwhile our staff has been working with the Queen’s and Clarence House’s household to work out the political, social and public process of handover and proper address of the matter.

“ But it’s been hard…”, she continued, bowing her head down and sighing deeply. “ Harry hasn’t really been himself. I know how much this has taken a toll on him. How much he feels betrayed by his brother and father. People he has admired and looked up to his whole life. I also know how much he wants to prove himself…. to prove that he’s capable, that he’s worthy, that he can step into not only into William’s shoes, but also the Queen’s. And that’s a lot to take in.”, she finished with a sigh.

Later that night, after everyone had gone to bed, Elle silently walked to Arthur’s nursery. She had heard him wailing through the baby camera and rushed to his side. The little boy was red faced, throwing his arms up and down.

“ Shhhh… mama is here…shhhh….”, she whispered to him as she picked him up and held Arthur close to her body. She fed him and sang him back to sleep, gently rocking him. Elle held him, watching ad her son slept without a care in the world. She pondered, as she looked at the baby in her arms, at all that had happened in the last year. She had been married, found out she was pregnant, been attacked, her life and Arthur’s life had been put at risk, Colin had been killed in front of her, she and Harry welcomed their baby, they found out Kate had also been a victim of the attack that put her life in danger and finally, William removed himself from the line of succession. Indeed, she could say it had been one hell of a year.

Lost in thought, she didn’t hear or notice Harry entering the room and reaching for her. Once he touched her arm she flinched but sighed, looking at him and smiling.

“ I’ve been looking for you…”, he said, his tone sleepy and worried. “ What’s wrong?”, he asked, sitting on the floor beside the armchair where she currently sat.

“ Nothing, my love. Arthur was crying…”, she replied, making Harry sigh.

“ You had that look on your face when I got here.”, he told her, gently caressing Arthur’s head.

“ What look?”, she asked.

“ That worried, trying to figure out things, look. One that I’ve seen a few times in the last couple of years whenever things get tense.”, he said to her. Sighing, Elle bowed her head and closed her eyes.

“ Hey… hey… look at me.”, Harry said, urging her. “Please, love. Look at me and tell me what’s been bothering you.”

“ I know I've told you I’m here for you and I’ll always be. That we can face this together. But Harry… I’m scared. I’m so scared…”, she said, little teardrops falling from her the corner of her eyes.

“ Oh my love… I am too…”, he confessed, hugging her close to him. “ But we can and we will face this. Where’s my brave wife?”, he said, making her chuckle. Harry kissed her cheeks, wiping away her tears, and gently caressed them.

“ I know with you by my side we can do this. We’re partners, friends, lovers… we can do it. Together.”, he said.

“ You can be so cheesy…”, Elle said chuckling, to which Harry replied with a snort.

“ But you wouldn’t have me any other way.”, he said and she nodded her head smiling at him. They rested their foreheads against each other and sighed. For a while, they remained like so, in complete silence, listening to Arthur’s soft breathing.

“ I’ve given some thought at the media proposal you’ve told me about.”, Harry said breaking the silence.

“ And…?”, she asked.

“ And… I think we can give it a go.”, he said and she smiled. “ But we’ll have to run this through my grandmother, Clarence House and our household first.”

“ Agreed.”, she replied.

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

Over the course of the next few weeks, their staff had met with the Queen’s and the Prince of Wales’ staffs to discuss the handover. It was decided that, by the end of August, Buckingham Palace would officially release an announcement about Prince William’s role and their decision, followed by a nationwide televised message from him. Elle and Harry had two more weeks of peace until then to fully digest what was going to happen. With the Queen’s and Clarence House approval, their household had travelled from London to Sussex to prepare them for the handover, as well as revise the plans for the media proposal Elle had given to their secretaries. Ronald, Lisa and Daniel, along with the key personell in their staff had gathered at South Hartfield to define the details and guidelines of their new policies.

“ Thank you all for coming to Sussex.”, said Harry. “ As you all know, my wife and I will be taking over new roles from now on and we need your support and work to make the process of handover go as smoothly as it can possibly be.”, he continued.

“ That being said, we’ve proposed new guidelines and polices regarding our social media accounts and the public view over our lives. Ronald, Lisa, Daniel… please.”, said Elle.

“ Thank you, Your Royal Highness. It’s been decided that as Their Royal Highnesses will now that seniority over the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge due to Prince William’s removal of the line of succession, new conducts will be set forth.”, Ronald began.

“ Firstly, for the handover of roles and consolidation of the new establishment of Their Royal Highnesses, the Duke and Duchess of Sussex and their heirs, there shall be a meeting at Buckingham Palace where a document will be signed by all senior members of the Royal Family, including her Majesty the Queen, as well as the Privy Council, the Prime Minister and all secretaries of State and ministers of the Crown.”, he continued.

“ Secondly, it’s been decided that there shall be more openness about their daily lives and meetings. The Duke and Duchess of Sussex wish to give the public and the media more transparency in order to avoid chaos and an overflow of paparazzi. Photocalls will be held every summer from now on, as well as during major life events, such as when Prince Arthur starts school. Their Royal Highnesses understand that a certain amount of access goes a long way, especially in keeping the press, and paparazzi on your side.”, Lisa said.

“ With that in mind, Their Royal Highnesses will release a public statement concerning our thoughts and new roles, followed by an interview with Alastair Bruce. All of which, have been approved by the Buckingham Palace and Clarence House.”, said Daniel.

“ Finally, new security protocols have been issued by Buckingham Palace. Sergeant John Morris will resume his post as Head of Security. Sergeants Leonard Jackson, Ingrid Chambers and Alfred Thomas will also resume their services as Royal Protection Officers under his command and will be with the Duke and Duchess at all times in pairs.”, complete Ronald.

“ As of today, this Household will be looking after the future monarchs of the United Kingdom.”, said Ronald.

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

“ You have to talk to him.”, Elle urged Harry as they began packing their things to head back to Kensington. In three days time, the document would be signed, the news would be released and William’s speech would be aired.

“ I… can’t bring myself to do it, Elle.”, said Harry, sitting on the bed and running his fingers through his hair.

“ But you have to.”, she said taking a seat by his side and running her hand up and down his back. “ I know it’s hard. I know you’re still hurt. But he’s your brother. And he’s been going through a lot too. Please, darling… you have to talk to him…”, said Elle.

“ He’s been through a lot? How can he have been through a lot when he had been conspiring for God know how long to throw this bomb over my lap!?”, exclaimed Harry. Elle sighed and shook her head.

“ I’ve been talking to Kate. She said he’s barely sleeping properly, Harry. He feel so guilty for doing that but she said he couldn’t cope anymore. The pressure of being the heir was getting to him. If you think about it, it’s been there his whole life.”, said Elle.

“ Some people aren’t born for this life, my darling and you know it. Was this the best way to opt out from it? No. But I don’t see how William could have done it in any other way. You both never had the choice. Not really. But now, he’s choosing and I think that’s brave of him. To leave all of this behind. You, my love, you could choose to leave it too.”, she said, caressing his cheek, making Harry look at her.

“ But we both know that it has never been an option to you. Backing away is not in your character. It’s part of that duty of a soldier that’s been ingrained into you. And it’s one the reasons why I love you so much. You’re determined and driven to do what you believe is right for the greater good. And that’s why I know you can do this. You can step into your brother’s shoes, and you can make them fit you better. But for God’s sake, you need to talk to him before this goes public. You need to make amends.”, she finished, putting a mobile in his hand.

“ Call him. Please.”, she said, before stepping out of the room. Harry sighed and looked at the phone on his hand. He stared at it for a few minutes before unlocking the screen and pressing William’s contact on the speed dial. It rang a little before he heard his brother on the other side.

“Harry? Harry is that you? Please talk to me… oh God I can’t believe you called…”, William began.

“ Hi Will.”, Harry said.

“ I’m so sorry, Harry… you must know I’ve never meant to cause you any pain… I just…. I just wanted to keep Kate and the children safe…”, William rushed as he spoke.

“ Will…”, started Harry.

“ And I never meant to put you and Elle on the spotlight like that… I… I just need to be out of this… I can’t keep living like this, Harry. It’s too much… too bloody much. And - ”, continued William before Harry cut him.

“ WILL!”, he exclaimed. “ I know. I know why. I understand why. I don’t like how you did it. But I understand it.”, said Harry.

“ Ohhh thank God… thank little brother…”, said William, sounding relieved.

“ However…", said Harry. “ That does not mean I forgive you or will ever forget what you and Pa have done.”

“ I… I understand.”, said William sighing.

“ I’ll support your decision. Elle too. We’ll smile and greet you in front of the cameras. But it’s going to take a while before I can properly see you again. Before we can be a family again. I’m not even sure if we’ll ever be able to be how we were.”, said Harry.

“ Harry I… I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Somehow. I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I will. We all will. I’m sorry, Harry. And please, take care.”, said William.

“ I will. See you in London.”, said Harry.

“ See you then.”, finished William. Harry pressed the red button turning the conversation off and put his phone to the side. Sighing, he looked around the room and walked over to the window. Outside, he could see his staff and Elle, who was holding Arthur in her arms, moving a few suitcases and boxes to the cars. This is it., he thought. This is when everything starts to change.

#Fates Intertwined #royalfanficcentral #phff #prince harry fanfic #prince harry fanfiction #prince harry

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themovieblogonline · 6 days ago

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Welcome back FROMily! If you thought FROM couldn’t get any crazier, FROM Season 3 Episode 9 proved you very wrong. This episode, titled Revelations Part 1, served up mysteries, monster mayhem, and enough blood-filled mason jars to make your stomach churn. Let’s dive into the chaos together! https://youtu.be/zxuSLY5xUjI The Breakdown: Madness and Mason Jars Let’s start with Elgin—or as I’ve been calling him, Smelgin. This dude went from being an awkward nobody to someone we all collectively side-eye. He’s got Fatima locked in a dungeon, bringing her a mason jar full of his own blood like it’s some weirdly personal DoorDash delivery. And yes, she drank it. She resisted at first, but eventually, she chugged it like it was the last Kool-Aid of the summer. Watching her drink that was hard enough, but the real question is: HOW is Elgin still standing after donating what looked like half his supply? Fatima might be turning into a daywalker, but this is Twilight with extra cringe. Boyd and Ellis Bond in Chaos Meanwhile, Boyd and Ellis are on the hunt for Fatima, but Boyd’s health has other plans. Seeing him struggle was tough—like watching an aging Mike Tyson acting like he can't do it anymore. Out on the hunt for Fatima, his Parkinson’s takes over, giving us a raw, emotional moment between father and son. Ellis sees Boyd in a vulnerable state for the first time, and it’s as heart-wrenching as it is sobering. It reminded me of those times action heroes show their cracks, but instead of epic explosions, it’s a quieter, more human moment. Tabitha's Powers Take the Spotlight Speaking of game-changers, let’s talk about Tabitha. She’s officially leveled up. In FROM Season 3 Episode 9, she touches Victor and starts seeing his memories. Is she psychic? A reincarnation of Miranda? Or something else entirely? Either way, Tabitha’s Phoenix Force moment was a highlight, and I’m ready to see her go full-on Jean Grey in the finale. And can we take a second to appreciate Victor? He’s out here swinging axes at bottle trees like he’s auditioning for The Shining. When the Boy in White appeared and told him to quit chopping, I half-expected Victor to say, “You try living here without going a little nuts.” The Emotional Moments Jim and Tabitha finally reconcile. About time, right? Jim’s “I’m sorry for being a dick” moment was surprisingly heartfelt. Let’s just hope he’s ready for life as Cyclops because Tabitha’s powers are making her the star of this mutant family. And how about Donna? She’s the colony’s mama bear, holding it together while reminiscing about better days. Donna’s “shut up and soldier” attitude with Acosta had me cheering. Theories, Twists, and WTF Moments Let’s talk about the Boy in White. He’s grown up, talking, and roasting Victor like it’s open mic night. But what’s his deal? Is he helping? Manipulating? And what’s with his warning about the bottle tree? Finally, Fatima discovers a hidden door under her dungeon. Is this her way out, or is it leading to even more trouble? With monsters closing in and Smelgin lurking, things are not looking good for her. Final Thoughts With just one episode left in the season, FROM is ramping up the tension. FROM Season 3 Episode 9 gave us plenty of revelations but left even more mysteries to solve. Is Tabitha the key to it all? Will Fatima make it out alive? And can Smelgin just… stop? I can’t wait to discuss this episode with you all in the Monday Deep Dive Live! Drop your thoughts and theories in the comments below. And don’t forget to hit SUBSCRIBE to The Movie Blog. Let’s ride this crazy train to the finale together! Read the full article

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jennycalendar · 6 years ago

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imperfections (52/?)

read it on ao3!

more gingerbread shenanigans!!

The school day began with a faculty meeting, and the faculty meeting began with Snyder making a speech. This wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence. The man loved the sound of his own voice, and would take any opportunity to make his staff listen to him rant about gum under the auditorium seats or disrespectful youth these days. This speech, however, was specific enough to make Jenny and Rupert exchange a worried look, and the smug look on Snyder’s face only made them more apprehensive.

“Am I imagining things,” Rupert began, holding the door for Jenny as they exited the teachers’ lounge, “or was he insinuating—”

“—locker searches?” Jenny finished. “Yeah, that’s…seriously not good. Usually the school board shuts him down and he rants about it for a few weeks.”

“It seems a bit odd that we didn’t get prior notice,” said Rupert, a small frown on his face.

“Almost as odd as, oh, I don’t know, Sunnydale moms out for my blood?” said Jenny casually.

“Jenny, now really isn’t the time for your fringe theories—what on earth?” Rupert stopped in his tracks, staring.

Jenny peered over his shoulder, and her mouth fell open: two police officers were carrying her computer out of the computer lab. After taking a moment to register what this might mean, she directed a very pointed look at her boyfriend, then said, “What were you saying?”

“That you’re right about everything and I should really listen to you more often,” said Rupert weakly.

“Yep.” Jenny patted his shoulder, then stepped towards the officers. To her surprise, Rupert gripped her elbow, pulling her back. “What?”

“I did say you were right about everything,” said Rupert tensely, “and it seems particularly odd that police officers are going after one of our most upstanding faculty members on the basis of what she researches in her spare time. All you keep on your computer are blessings and lessons for Willow, yes? Nothing harmful?”

“No black magic,” Jenny confirmed. “Not even a dab of gray.”

Rupert gave her a skeptical look.

“Okay, some gray, but it’s for research purposes!”

“Which proves my point exactly,” said Rupert. “Anyone with half a brain would know you well enough to know that you’d sooner die than hurt a child, and I count Joyce Summers in that majority. Police officers carting away your computer based on rumors she may have spread strikes me as extremelyodd, even for Sunnydale.”

“So we’re thinking some kind of paranoia demon?” Jenny suggested. “Maybe feeding off the deaths of those kids?”

“It’s a fairly solid concept,” Rupert agreed pensively. His hand tightened on Jenny’s elbow. “Which means that anyone who so much as glanced at a spellbook is likely in danger.”

Something about that sentence struck a terrifying chord in Jenny. She replayed it in her head, then— “Willow,” she gasped. “Willow has stuff in her locker!”

Rupert’s face paled. “Go make sure she’s all right,” he said. “I’ll—”

“Get any supernatural research books out of the library,” said Jenny sharply.

“How?”

“You were Eyghon’s devotee in your early twenties, Rupert, you’re telling me you can’t manage a simple transportation spell?”

“There’s no room for all those books at home—”

“Figure something out!” snapped Jenny. “I don’t want you burned at the stake!”

Rupert’s expression softened. He reached out, squeezing her hands. “No one’s getting burned at the stake, all right?” he said.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” said Jenny stubbornly.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Rupert gently, then let go of her hands, hurrying towards the library. Jenny watched him for a moment, remembered the situation with Willow, and sprinted in the direction of the student lounge.

A cluster of students had already gathered by the lockers. “Willow?” Jenny called, pushing through the crowd. “Willow—”

Buffy turned, eyes wide with relief. “You can fix this, right?” she said almost desperately. “You’re a teacher—”

“Where’s Willow?”

“Snyder’s office, I think,” said Faith worriedly. “They found magic stuff in her locker and I think she’s about to get chewed out for it.”

“Then that’s where I’m headed,” said Jenny.

“Um, how about not doing that?” piped up Cordelia, genuine worry in her eyes. “I heard a couple of teachers talking, Ms. Calendar, and it sounds like they’re out for you too.”

“Rupert and I are starting to think there’s some kind of paranoia demon at play,” said Jenny tensely. “If I’m in danger, Willow definitely is.”

“No, it’s okay,” said Buffy nervously. “It is. Snyder’s just gonna call her mom, and…her mom’s kinda ditzy, but she’d never hurt Willow, okay? She’ll keep Willow safe. That’s what moms do.”

A sharp resentment rose in Jenny at the reminder of Willow’s obliviously neglectful mother, and it made her consider that she might not be able to look at the situation objectively. Buffy knew Willow’s mom. Buffy was probably right. “Okay,” she said. “Yeah. Faith, Xander, we’re going to the library to make sure Rupert’s okay, and then we’re going to go home. Buffy, I strongly suggest you go home—”

“I’m coming with you,” said Buffy firmly.

“Two Slayers,” Faith agreed. “Double the protection.”

Jenny decided not to waste time arguing. “Fine,” she said. “Just hurry.”

Upon entering the library, they were met with a beautiful sight: Rupert had indeed vanished all the books, and Snyder was having a fit. “Where are they?” he demanded furiously. “Where are the books? We were given jurisdiction to confiscate all of them—”

“I took the liberty of weeding all the inappropriate material for you,” said Rupert, directing a very big smile at Jenny and the children over Snyder’s head. “Anything to help protect our youth.”

“Wonderful to see you, Principal Snyder,” Buffy chirped, beaming at Rupert as she crossed the room to stand next to him. “How’s your little crusade going?”

Realizing that his failure now had an audience, Snyder all but growled. “I know they’re here somewhere!” he snarled. “You can’t hide them forever!” He stormed up to a shelf, rattling it; it almost fell on top of him.

“Good to see that your work has had such an impact,” said Jenny helpfully.

This was a mistake. Snyder’s eyes locked on her, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Ms. Calendar,” he said, then stopped. “Oh, wait. I think I want to savor this moment.”

Jenny raised an eyebrow.

“You’re fired,” said Snyder with relish.

Rupert took a step forward. Buffy grabbed him, towing him back.

“Cool,” said Jenny, largely unbothered. Too many weird things had happened today for her to take Snyder seriously. “I’m still the girlfriend of a staff member, though, so I’ll just stay on campus and help him with the, uh, card catalogue?” She glanced over at Rupert for verification; he nodded, still looking very ready to knock Snyder sprawling. “Card catalogue,” Jenny confirmed. “Because that’s what they use in libraries.”

Snyder’s gleeful expression began to fade. “You’re fired,” he said again, as though she might not have heard him.

“Gotcha!” Jenny gave him a thumbs-up. “Rupert, do you still have instant coffee in your office?”

“I’ll make you a pot,” said Rupert coolly.

Snyder was seething. “This—you—fired,” he sputtered.

Ignoring him, Jenny followed Rupert into his office, the children close behind, and shut the door once they were all inside. “Okay,” she said to Rupert. “Spill.”

“It’s an illusory glamour mixed with an incantation to create a pocket dimension,” said Rupert proudly. “Technically, the books are there, but no one can see them or get to them unless I include them in the spell.”

“You mixed your magic?” said Jenny, biting her lip and smiling slowly at him.

“As it happens,” said Rupert, giving her a flirtatious grin, “I’ve been well schooled in the merits of experimentation.”

“Someone please stop them before we find out what he means,” said Buffy loudly.

Jenny took the hint. “Research time?” she asked Rupert.

“As soon as Snyder clears out,” Rupert agreed.

Faith peered through the window of the office, then said, “Looks like he’s stomping away. Time to hit the books?”

“I think I should check up on my mom,” said Buffy darkly. “Whatever this is, it sure feels like she’s involved.”

“Ah, Buffy,” said Rupert suddenly, “please do keep in mind that it’s likely some sort of demon causing her to act this way. Whatever she says, you, you shouldn’t take it too personally.”

“And that absolutely extends to that lecture she gave Sunnydale last night,” Jenny added.

Something in Buffy’s face relaxed. “Thanks, guys,” she said. “It’s not exactly the greatest to know my mom’s all demony-influenced, but…it’s better than that being her, you know?”

With some worry, Jenny thought back to Willow. Whatever she was going through couldn’t be pleasant.

So Willow and her mom had a fight, kind of. Willow wasn’t entirely sure how to categorize whatever had gone down between her and her mom, but seeing as it had ended with her grounded and her mom making that Mildly Annoyed Face she always seemed to be making whenever Willow talked for longer than thirty seconds, “fight” had the kind of negative connotations she needed at the moment. Especially since she’d just stormed out of her mom’s house without looking back, taken the car, and driven down to Sunnydale High, hoping against hope that Giles and Ms. Calendar might be researching late.

The light was on in the library, which made Willow feel at least a little better through the awful. Whatever was going on, at least someone might be there for her to talk to. She opened the door, stepping inside.

Faith jumped. “Fuck, Red, you startled me!” she said, a light laugh in her voice. “Jen’s gonna be glad to see you—she’s been worried sick. Tryin’ not to show it, but you know Jen, she’s all protective mama bear and shit. Oh, damn, are you okay?”

Faith’s expression had changed, and Willow suddenly realized that it was because she’d started crying. Mortified, she stumbled back, knocking neatly into Giles. “Willow, what on earth,” he began, stopped, and pulled her into a semi-awkward bear hug. That was new too. Willow thought she should maybe thank Faith and Ms. Calendar for turning Giles into some kind of soft working dad.

“Oh no,” she heard Ms. Calendar saying, in that gentle mom-voice Willow could have really used from, you know, her mom. “Oh, Willow, what happened?”

Willow kind of just started crying harder. “I’m gonna be in so much trouble!” she wailed.

“No, no, Willow, it’s a paranoia demon,” said Giles, evidently thinking that this was somehow comforting to her.

“Let me take this one, honey,” said Ms. Calendar with some amusement. She stepped in, hugging Willow too. “You okay?”

It would have been different, Willow thought, if she wasn’t so used to Giles and Ms. Calendar fussing over her good grades and exclaiming when she did something right and telling her they were proud of her. After her mom had grounded her without listening to her at all, she might have just gone quietly up to her room with an achy feeling in her chest. She didn’t really know how to express that thought, but then it didn’t really matter, because nobody was letting go of her and nobody was telling her she was acting out. Without a word, she burrowed further into the hug.

“God, I wish I had a camera,” she heard Faith saying to someone, a note of genuine appreciation in her voice. “This shit is ridiculously cute.”

Willow pulled away, just a little, and let Giles dab at her face with a handkerchief. “Do crying teenagers usually throw themselves at you?” she tried to quip, but it sounded more morose than playful.

“Just one of Sunnydale’s many hazards,” said Giles, giving Willow’s cheek a last affectionate pat.

Ms. Calendar was, in fact, looking at Willow with large, worried eyes. Suddenly, all that jealousy Willow had felt for Faith felt really ridiculous. “Hey there, champ,” said Ms. Calendar, stepping up and tucking Willow’s hair behind her ear. “Who do I have to punch?”

That made Willow laugh. “No one,” she said, and was surprised to find herself meaning it. “It’s okay.”

#fic #imperfections #i cannot talk abt what i'm writing for this fic right now #bc i'm two chapters ahead of y'all so major spoilers #but i am SO EXCITED. this fic is finally moving into very non-canon territory

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themutantunderground · 7 years ago

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Let Your Heart Be Light Ch. 8

John is home on leave from the Marines and Clarice is home on winter break from grad school. While they used to date in high school, Clarice and John haven't been together in a long time... But it's Christmas time, and it seems like everything and everyone in their small, holiday-obsessed hometown is trying to get them back together. Modern Thunderblink AU!

FF.net | Ao3

"You've got a coffee problem."

"No. I don't."

"Do toooooo," Norah said, letting her voice travel up the scale and down as she leaned against the doorway of the kitchen. "Clarice, come on. That's your second cup of coffee, and you're going to get another one. You've got a problem."

"Hush, you'll wake up Mama D and Karl. Besides, I'm prepping. I'm not falling asleep in the truck," she mumbled into the travel mug, both her hands wrapped around it like it was a lifeline. Not again, she wasn't going to nap during the ride up to the tree farm. She shouldn't have fallen asleep last night, but she had been super tired. Even if she had to drink enough coffee to give herself a heart attack, she wasn't going to conk out in John's truck again.

Clarice shuffled over to the coffee pot and dumped the rest of it into the travel mug. It still dark outside the kitchen window. When she had said the butt crack of dawn, she had hoped that, you know, it would actually be dawn. Instead the sun hadn't even started to peek over the horizon yet.

"Damn John's early mornings," Clarice grumbled to herself, rubbing the corner of her eye. Even with all the coffee and extreme determination, she was worried she would be asleep before they got out of Westchester. She wasn't running on much sleep.

When she turned back toward Norah, her little sister pointed at a glass jar on top of the fridge. "I heard that."

Clarice narrowed her eyes at Norah and dipped a hand into her pocketbook. She scrambled around in the abyss that was her bag until she found a quarter. Holding it up to prove that it was, in fact, a quarter, she headed over and went up on her tiptoes to get the swear jar down. She plunked the coin in and set the jar on the counter for easier access. She was home and Remy and some of her other foster siblings might be home within a few days, so it was a good idea to keep the jar in reach.

Lights flashed through the living room windows as someone pulled up to the house, and Norah jumped toward the door. "They're here!"

"Yeah, I see that," Clarice said. She turned off the lights and grabbed her bag and a jacket before following Norah out the front door. John's truck wasn't the only vehicle at the house. There were two more, a small hybrid car and a Jeep Wrangler, both of them idling in the quiet street. Clarice held up a hand against the headlight glare as she and Norah headed over to get into the truck.

"It really is a party," she said as she climbed into the passenger's street, automatically putting her travel mug in the cup holder. There was already a mug there, a dark blue one with a Marines symbol on it.

John gave a half-smile. "You could call it that."

In the backseat, Norah was buckling herself in while Riley jabbered at her, the two of them excited about going to the Christmas tree farm. Riley was already talking about getting a giant tree, which made Clarice wonder how they were going to convince her that an eight foot tree was just as good as a monstrous twenty-footer.

"Are we going or what?" a voice crackled, "I saw Clarice get in, let's go. Damn, you're slow."

Clarice looked down at the handheld radio that was laying on the console, recognizing the cranky voice. Also, she recognized the radio. "Oh my god, these still work?"

"They're well-made," John said as he picked it up. "We're going in just a minute. Seatbelts are important."

Clarice reached over and plucked the radio out of his hand. "That's right, Lorna, don't you care about safety?"

"Hey, wandering traveler," Marcos' voice responded. She could hear Lorna cussing her out in a friendly, warm tone in the background. "How's it going?"

"Fine, just wondering why we're going old school with communication today," she said. She turned the radio over in her hands, running her thumb along a series of scratches in the hard plastic surface. That was from when it had accidentally fallen out the window one summer when they had been going to the lake. Luckily it had only hit the road and gotten scratched instead of falling under the tire. Even though these were hardy, there was no way it could've survived getting run over. John had gotten them for his birthday when they were sophomores back in high school. They were…ancient.

"Because old school works where phone signals don't," John said, taking the radio back from her. He pressed the speaker button. "Is everyone ready?"

"Obviously," Lorna replied.

The other response was a garbled mess of static and arguing. Clarice could pick out James' voice along with a few others, so she guessed it was the Jeep Wrangler crew. Most likely to not know how to work a handheld.

"James," John said, "You there? Or do I have to text you…"

"Here," James finally said, sounding exasperated. "This is dumb, over."

"You don't have to say over," John said as he put the truck into reverse.

"We're using radios, so we're using radio lingo," James said, "Over."

"That's stupid," Lorna put in, "Don't be a brat."

James' tone became lazy. "Are you done talking? You didn't say over so I can't tell. Over."

Clarice smothered a smile at John's longsuffering look as Lorna and James started bickering over the radio. Lorna and Marcos had always liked to tease James mercilessly when they were younger, and it seemed like things hadn't changed. James, for his part, always gave as good as he got.

"John, can we listen to Christmas songs?" Riley asked, "Maybe for part of the way there? Or all the way? We've got lots of hours."

"You would think it was Christmas or something," Clarice said, giving the little girl a grin. Riley beamed back, all bright-eyed and excited. She still had that little-kid love for the holidays, and it was sort of infectious.

John changed the radio station, switching it around until 'Frosty the Snowman' started playing. "Is this okay?"

"Yep, thanks!" Riley said, kicking up feet up onto the console. She had gotten her shoes off already and her little socks had reindeer all over them. Norah's feet joined hers a couple moments later, though she had normal purple socks.

"Five bucks they'll be asleep in thirty minutes," Clarice said.

"That's a bad bet," he replied with a small smile, "You're almost entirely guaranteed to win."

"We won't fall asleep," Riley protested, "We're awake."

"We could drink their coffee," Norah said with a laugh, "Then we'd be super awake."

"Can we have your coffee?" Riley asked, tapping her foot against John's arm. He reached over and squeezed her toes, getting a laugh out of her. She tried to pull her foot back, but he grabbed her foot and kept it in place.

"You don't need coffee, you've got enough energy for all of us," John said, shaking her foot, "You're the last person on this planet who needs coffee."

"But you just said I'd go to sleep!" Riley protested. She leaned forward and pulled at his arm, trying to get him to release her foot. "I need it."

"You need a nap? I wholeheartedly agree."

"I'm so confused," Norah said, "Are we sleeping or not sleeping?"

"Sleeping," John said.

"Not sleeping," Riley said at exactly the same time.

Clarice leaned back in her seat as the girls argued with John and he fought back with a playfully stoic expression, his eyes bright with amusement. He liked teasing his baby sister, and it was easy to see that she loved it too. There was something extra cute, she supposed, about seeing big, tough Marine John playing with his little sister. She had always thought that was sort of adorable how much he cared about his younger siblings and didn't care who knew how much he loved them.

They stopped briefly at a gas station on the outskirts of town to fill up and get snacks for the long ride. Clarice was immediately side-tackled by Lorna the moment she got out of the car and she flailed a little, caught off-guard by Lorna's baby belly.

"Wow, swallow a basketball, buddy?" she asked as she hugged Lorna back. Lorna wasn't terribly affection, but it had been a long time since they had seen each other. A somewhat violent hug was only natural.

Lorna socked her in the shoulder. "A beach ball, you ass," she said with a grin.

It was definitely weird seeing Lorna pregnant. If Clarice had chosen any of her friends to be the literal Mom Friend, it wouldn't have been Lorna, but she knew Lorna would be an awesome mom, complete with ripped jeans and combat boots. "Is Marcos completely smothering you?" Clarice asked, looking over at her childhood BFF. He was busy fending off Riley and Norah, who had gotten out of the truck and wanted to help gas up the vehicles. He gave Clarice an absent wave and went back to trying to keep the kids away from the pump.

"Pretty much," Lorna said, "But he means well."

"Always does," Clarice said. Marcos was a complete teddy bear, but she could see how he might turn into a worry wart when it came to Lorna's pregnancy.

"He hasn't wrapped me up in bubble wrap yet, which I'm thinking is a good sign," Lorna said with a smirk.

"Give it time," Clarice said.

Lorna laughed. "Hey, brats, let's go get candy!" she yelled. Norah and Riley looked at each other and then headed over toward Lorna.

Riley slipped her hand into Lorna's as they headed toward the convenience store. "Can we have coffee?"

"Heck no," Lorna said, "But you can help me find some salt and vinegar chips and peanut butter."

"That's an awful combo," Clarice said, and beside her, Norah wrinkled her nose.

"It's not my weirdest craving," Lorna said, "Have you ever tried those pizza-flavored Combos dipped in tartar sauce? It's amazing."

"That's…beyond disgusting," Clarice said.

In the store, James and his friends were stocking up on candy and snacks like they were going camping for a week in the wilderness instead of a day trip to a tree farm. There were four of them besides James, and Clarice recognized the little blonde that James liked so much.

"Hey!" Ali called to Clarice and Lorna as James held a packet of M&Ms out of her reach, "Morning!"

"Hey, Ali," Clarice said. She had babysat Ali some back when they were much younger; her dad had been overprotective and hadn't let Ali stay home alone until she was at least fourteen.

Riley and Norah disappeared into the shelves, probably looking for something extremely sugary. While the others picked out snacks, Clarice went to the refrigerated section. Absently, she grabbed a couple drinks and then rushed through the snacks section, collecting the girls as she went. Outside, Marcos was pushing the horn on the hybrid, so it was making plaintive little beeps to encourage everyone to hurry. The teens jostled each other as they bought way too much food and then hurried out the door, heading back to the Jeep.

"Riley, Norah, let's go," Clarice called as she headed to the check-out, stepping up behind Lorna. The dark-haired woman had an armful's worth of snacks spread out on the counter. Clarice raised an eyebrow and Lorna frowned at her.

"Don't comment on a pregnant woman's snack choices."

"I wasn't going to," Clarice said, allowing herself a grin. "I didn't say a word."

"You had a look."

"What, now I'm not allowed to have a look?"

Lorna jostled her with her elbow. "You know what I mean."

"I'm just saying, you have Ho-Hos and vinegar chips." Clarice reached over to touch the items she had mentioned, which made Lorna brush her hand away.

"It's a surprisingly good combination," Lorna said. She paid for her food and headed outside, two plastic bags hanging from her elbow.

The two girls raced up to the counter, both of them carrying more candy than Clarice was willing to buy. "We're not…is that an entire container of Reeses?"

"It's important," Norah said, "We need protein."

"Then get some jerky," Clarice said, taking the little carton from Norah. She set it on the counter, a little embarrassed by the exasperated look the sales clerk gave her. "Sorry." Neither of the girls looked very apologetic.

The bell over the door dinged as Clarice finished paying for the snacks that she was actually going to buy, and Riley shot over to John as he stepped into the store. "Clarice won't feed us."

"She's not obligated to feed you, squirt," he said as he reached down and ruffled her hair. He looked up at Clarice. "But it looks like she bought you stuff. Unless you're eating all of that on your own?" He smiled at Clarice, and she couldn't help but smile right back. An actual, true smile from John was something of a rarity.

"Yeah, this is all mine," she said, holding the bag close, "You guys can get your own."

Automatically the kids started complaining about how that wasn't fair and how they were going to starve and how it was too early to be mean to them. John laughed and hushed Riley before glancing around the store.

Clarice headed for the door, pausing beside him. "It's okay, I got yours, too. Coke, pork rinds, and sunflower seeds, right?" His tastes couldn't have changed that much, right? "Oh, and a reheated sausage biscuit."

John stared at her, and Clarice shifted from foot to foot, suddenly rethinking her actions. "I can put it back…"

"No, sorry, that's great," he said, shaking his head as if clearing it. "Thank you."

"No problem," Clarice said, wondering if she had made things weird. Luckily, John broke up any awkwardness by grabbing Riley and tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before taking the plastic bag from Clarice. Marcos was beeping the little hybrid's horn again, and John smirked as they all headed out.

"That is the sorriest excuse for a horn I've ever heard."

"Right?" Clarice said, grinning, "It sounds like its crying every time he hits it."

"I think it's sort of cute," Norah said, "Like it's saying 'eh,' 'eh,' 'eh.'"

"Or meh, meh, meh," Riley said, and both the girls giggled.

Once everyone got back on the road, it was about an hour down the road before the girls fell asleep in the backseat. John turned down the Christmas music as he glanced up at the mirror, making sure they were both out.

"Took longer than expected," Clarice said. She took off her coat and tossed it over Norah before snagging John's coat from behind his seat and draping it over Riley. The seven-year-old snagged the coat and snuggled up to it, halfway hiding under it.

"I'm surprised you're still awake," John said, glancing over at her.

"Eyes on the road," she said, making a face at him. "I drank coffee. I'm prepared."

"Must've been a lot of coffee," John teased.

She reached over and gently socked him on the shoulder. "It's none of your business."

John smiled and turned his attention back to the road. Behind them, the teenagers were following along in the Jeep and right behind them was Lorna and Marcos' hybrid. They were a little troupe heading down the road, enjoying the crisp morning now that the sun was officially out. However, some clouds in the distance made it look like the sunshine might not last.

"Is it supposed to snow today?" Clarice asked, briefly pressing her nose against the window. Fog clouded the window and she rubbed it away with her sleeve, pulling the end up over the palm of her hand.

"There's a chance," John said, "But it could happen."

"That'd be nice and cliché," she said, "Cutting down Christmas trees in the snow."

"Hey, I like this particular cliché," John said with a small smile, "Don't insult it."

"I didn't say I didn't like it," she replied. She reached for her bag and fished around for her phone, eventually finding it. After taking a short vid of the sky and blasting it out on Instagram, she set the phone on the dash.

The two of them settled into a comfortable silence, and Clarice reached over to turn the channel. While she loved Christmas music, it was tiresome after a while. Besides, the kids were asleep. She flipped through a few channels and finally found a rock station, one that John would like and she wouldn't mind. Outside, the woods were flashing by, bare-limbed tree after tree, as they made their way to the Christmas tree farm.

#fanfic #thunderblink #eclaris

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ask-the-phan-site · 4 years ago

Text

Phan Cam: A Last Surprise... For Dream FES

Welcome to the last night of Dream FES!

>The audience applauds.

MC: Tonight, we’ll finally see just who will finally get their dream of getting an album debut. The Top Three will all go from being humble Rookie Idols to shining True Idols. Now, without further ado, let’s begin! First up...

>The backstage dressing room.

I can’t believe this is actually happenin’. Not only are all of ya are here...

Now we finally have a fifth.

NOTE: We finally made a portrait of Matsu Oka. Gotta enjoy the Flash games while you can.

I’m not so sure about this. It turns out that you already were in Tokyo and that you have some Idol Training for some time?

Yeah. The MC thought I could become an idol myself. Apparently, he saw me balancing those watermelons and it looked like some kind of dance. I have admit, I’ve gotten quite coordinated. So, after summer vacation ended and I came back to Tokyo, he had me come to Takura Productions and I was put to work.

Oka: Okay. But why come and join us? If you went to Takura Productions, why are you joining a D-Four Production Idol Unit?

Akzuki Arai: (not his real first name, but we had to work with something) I didn’t actually work for Takura Productions. I headed out on my own afterwards. I did of performing on the streets. Mostly around Shibuya... Actually, in the same spot some guy with a guitar used to perform.

(giving the twins D-Four jackets would prove to be difficult, you’ll have to imagine them wearing them) I’m afraid this is going to be much different than performing on the streets.

Yeah, this is the big time now. A lot of people in the world will be seeing you.

Arai: Well, no one said it would be easy. Though, I am a bit nervous.

Skull: I know. I was the same way my own debut. But don’t worry. You’re with us now.

Oka: I suppose. We’re finally five.

Arai: Thanks. Though I wonder. If we do get a music deal, don’t you think my debut should be my audition? I haven’t been performing with you and don’t have enough songs.

Oka: True. But things are different ever since the coronavirus came. No Idol has ever had any concerts except for what they perform from their homes or certain places okay’d by the Health Department. No one has had a chance to record our songs.

Ichiro: And as far as we know, we only have one song for us.

Nobu: Two if you count Treasured Hearts.

Skull: Don’t worry, I’ve already written a song for us.

Oka: Really?

Skull: I’m sorry we had little time to rehearse it.

Guess we just go with it.

Arai, Nobu, and Ichiro: Right!

Oka: Okay. But after this, I’m so helping you with the next song.

Arai: If we win.

Stagehand: (coming in) Skul5, you’re on. Break a leg.

Skul5: We’re ready!

>On stage.

MC: And now, for your next Unit. Making their debut here tonight, lead by a member of KUROFUNE and ready to spark the stage. Let’s give a big hand for Skul5!

>Skul5 comes on stage.

Ichiro: Alright, it sounds like the storm is coming in for us!

Nobu: We will light up this stage and the hearts of everyone here!

Oka: The darkness will not win against us! We are ready for it!

Arai: Though storms bring darkness, they bring the light with lighting!

Skull: Which we will bring to you all!

Skul5: So be ready for the Hurricane!

Dorika Time!

Catch Your Cheers!

Skull: Your cheers will get us goin’!

Catch Your Cheers!

Arai: This will do me great. Thank you!

Catch Your Cheers!

Oka: Thanks. This will do me good.

Catch Your Cheers!

Ichiro and Nobu: Your cheers will unite us!

REMINDER: The following images are not in violation of the Tumblr policy as they do not actually contain sensitive or adult contain. They only show the upper half. Please do not flag.

NOTE: This next image will have to be shared be Arai, Oka, Ichiro, and Nobu.

>Skul5 change their clothes.

Golden Training Series! Complete!

Skul5 The storm is here!!! (2x)

Skull The winds are blowing in our direction The clouds are rolling to our lives

Arai This here ain’t no distraction Get ready to take the dive

Oka Dark clouds are brewing Shadows are looming

Skul5 The storm is here!!!

Ichiro and Nobu Time to rise up!

Skul5 (while Skull beatboxes) The storm is here and you will hear Our song thunder through ears But time passes right before your very eyes You will see that colored ribbon in the sky

Skul5 (including Skull) From our Hurricane

>After the song, the crowd went wild. We just know they love the song... Skull... Ryuji... We know you’ll make it.

MC: WAY TO GO! That really blew my mind!

Slam! Thanks!

MC: Okay, we’ll let you vote to see just how well they did. Now, on to our next Unit.

>The backstage dressing room. The Okamoto Twins got on a laptop and talked to some people on a multi-way video chat. In one video are their parents and grandmother. In another are Ray, his parents, their grandfather, Master Isao, and and old man who is Ray’s grandfather. In another are Allie and her father, Arthur. And in the fourth, Gabe, his parents, and his older twin brothers, Donald and Ronald.

Ichiro and Nobu: (excited) Did you see us!? Did you see us!?

Hai, we saw. You two were wonderful.

Of course, you three were good, too.

Arai: Thank you, Mr. Okamoto.

You did great.

Yes. I’ll admit that you were all impressive.

Nobu: Thanks, Ojiisan.

You should give them more credit, Ojisan. They were fantastic.

Yes, they were. Although, a song about a violent storm?

Skull: Well, it’s partly named for a relative of mine.

Yes, the boy hero. We know about him. I cannot say I agree with his methods, but they are sound.

It reminds me of you growing up.

Saguru: (a little embarrassed) I know.

I often wonder what Saguru’s childhood was like.

Master Isao: I would rather not discuss it in front of your father or Gabriel’s family... For Ken’s sake.

Saguru: (grateful) Arigato, Ojisan.

But at least tell us what you’ve been doing all those years you were gone, Ken san. It’s been bothering us for the longest time.

He has a point. Are you sure you won’t tell us?

Saguru: Very well, if you really want to know... I was lost at sea and bumped my head and lost all of my memories. I spent the next 15 years in a hospital until, by some circumstance, Raiden and his friends found me. Seeing him brought back my memories, thought, it would still be some time before I could come back. Now, here I am.

Mr. Underhill and Mr. Wallace: ...

Trust us. We were there.

Mr. Underhill: ... Alright. I know you have your reasons.

Mr. Wallace: Me, too, Gabe.

Tch! You’re such a terrible liar, Gabby. Stick to the truth because you’re way too scared of people not thinking you’re cool.

Yeah, in the end, you’ll always be Mama’s Little Gabby Bear.

>Gabe was trying to hold his frustration in.

Now boys, you should trust your brother. If he’s sticking to that story, we must understand.

Ronald: Whatever.

Donald: You just like him more.

Ichiro and Nobu: ... Ronald san, Donald san, you give twins a bad name.

Rondald and Donald: ...

Oka: I think you struck a nerve there.

Janet: Anyway, it looks like their getting ready to announce the Top Three and I need to get dinner started. Good luck, you guys.

Ray: Oh and Ryuji, could you tell Ren something?

Skull: Sure.

Ray: Tell him that Tareq said thank you for his last call.

I’ll be sure to do that.

Janet: And thank your mother for that recipe she sent. I didn’t know you could do that with rice.

Skull: That’s what makes it special.

>With that, they hang up.

Arai: I see you have a fan club.

Nobu: Just friends and family.

Skull: What about you, Arai san? Anyone you know might be watchin’?

Arai: I’m not sure. I’d like to think that Fujioka, Suoh, their friends, and my family might be watching.

Skull: (curious) Suoh? ... Never mind, I’m sure they are.

Stagehand: (coming in) Skul5, they’re about to announce the Top Three.

This is it! You guys ready?

Oka, Arai, Ichiro, and Nobu: Ready!

>With that, Skul5 go on stage.

>On stage, the Idols and the MC were ready to announce those in the Top Three.

MC: And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for. The announcement of which of these Idols has made it to the Top Three!

>The audience cheers.

MC: Now, for those of you who don’t remember from last year, if the Rookie Idols get into 3rd Place, they will still be declared True Idols. If they get into 2nd Place, they will get an album debut to record a few song with other Idols and music artists. And if they get into 1st Place, they will get an album debut of their own, but are allowed to add other Idols and music artists... By the way, the reason it’s no longer a CD debut since hardly anyone buys CDs anymore. That’s what downloading is for.

Skull: (whispering to the others) I don’t think we would make it into first place, but last year, I got into the Top Three.

Oka: In third. What makes you think we’re going to make it this year?

Arai: Why? Because Sakamoto’s song may be a bit better?

Oka: ... Maybe a little.

MC: In 3rd Place...

StarStar!

>StarStar goes up to be congratulated.

Oka: I’m still not sure about this.

(thinking) Yeesh, this guy’s a real Negative Ned...

But he does have a point. What if last year was just a fluke? This is already makin’ me nervous. And learnin’ what Connors did isn’t helpin’ either.

MC: Well done, StarStar. Now, in 2nd Place...

Skull: (out loud whispering) But what if... it wasn’t?

>Skull looks like his ready to walk off stage. Until...

Skul5!

Skull: ...

Arai: ...

Oka: ...

Ichiro: ...

Nobu: Ichiro, quick. What’s our Unit?

FOR REAL!!! ARE YOU EFFIN FOR REAL!?

MC: (nervously nodding)

Arai: We’re in second!

Oka: It’s not first, but it’s a start. (light clapping with a small smile) Well done, Sakamoto kun.

MC: Now, for 1st Place...

>Later in the hall, we go to meet with Skul5 and congratulate them.

Well done, Ryuji san!

You made us proud tonight.

Skull: Thanks, you guys.

Yeah, you did good. But it’s just a shame you guys can only do little or half for your album debut.

Keigo: If it makes you feel any better, if they do half the album, they’ll allow a cover art for them.

I request to do the cover art. I think I have something that might work.

Keigo: I think we can make that work.

I think Yusuke will love that.

I think you’re right.

Skull: And you two won’t think less of me, huh?

We never thought that about you. But still, you were great tonight. I guess you really are a cool guy, Ryuji.

Skull: (surprised) You really think so?

Panther: You bet.

L- Lady Ann? Don’t tell me. Are you falling for Ryuji over me?

Panther: ...

That’s a secret.

>Panther then left Skull and Mona confused on what she meant.

Mona: (sobbing) Will me and Lady Ann ever move up from the friend zone?

Oracle: Don’t get your hopes up.

Skull: No doubt. She’s always been like that.

Well, think of this way, you always have your friends to help you out when you need it.

Skull: You really mean that? Including... you?

What do you think?

Skull: ...

Thanks, Akechi.

>The two young men smiled happily at each other... I think I’ll let you figure out the rest.

>Later, as me, Fox, Oracle, and Mona were just leaving the building, we notice someone else coming out... We couldn’t believe who it was.

You’re here? Why didn’t you tell us? We could have watched the show together.

I’m sorry. I just had to come here. I thought I’d support Ryuji’s group while I’m at it. I would have called, but I wanted to get here before the show ended.

Oracle: I see.

>Suddenly, Boss noticed something... It was the two men from the Open Mike Nite. They were both going to some kind of carriage. I look to Boss.

Joker: Boss?

>No response.

Sojiro!?

Boss: (snapping back to reality) Huh!? Oh, sorry. My mind must have wondered off.

Oracle: Does it have something to do with those two guys?

Fox: They do seem rather odd. Even the way they’re dress makes them stand out.

Mona: (laughing a bit) I bet you’d like to see Joker in an outfit like that.

For my art... And for our love.

>I can’t help but blush... For you, Yusuke, anything.

Oracle: Get a room, you two.

Boss: Which they have back at the cafe. Let’s head back and I’ll make some dinner.

>With that, we head to Boss’s car. Boss stayed behind for a bit to look at the two men. They stared back for a bit and quietly went inside the carriage.

(thinking to himself) What just happened? Those two just seem so... familiar.

?????: Do they?

>Boss quickly looked around to see who spoke... There was no one there. Boss quickly got himself together and leave to meet with us.

>Meanwhile, inside the carriage...

So it is him, isn’t it?

It definitely seems like he recognizes us. Though, he doesn’t seem to know it. I don’t normally put much stock in all that stuff, but I think there might be some method to it.

Man with Pompadour: No doubt about it. That NEXT with the memory power turned out to be a dud. I think this time, we may have a hit.

Man with Sunglasses: But we might still have a long way to go. What do you say... my lady?

I think you might be right. So for now, you should keep a closer eye on him. Bertuccio, Baptasin, can I count on you both?

Bertuccio and Baptistin: As you wish, Lady Haydee.

Haydee: In the meantime... I think I will contact him.

>What is to happen next?

>Only time will tell.

#phantom thieves cam #dream festival #dream fes

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thats-pucking-amazing · 7 years ago

Text

Cost *Requested* (T.J. Oshie)

@wildlivingdreamland requested a T.J. Oshie imagine! The cost part is what I’m dealing with right now...college is expensive dudes.

Warnings: The cost of college

Requests are OPEN

Up Next: Willy Nylander

This has not been edited! Let me know what you think!

“Oh my gosh!” You moaned, placing your head in your hands. “There is absolutely no way that is right!”

You were looking at the amount owed for school. Going back to get your master’s degree was something you had been determined to do. Sure it had taken a little longer, but that was okay...your “setbacks” weren’t exactly setbacks. You cruised through both the undergrad and the associates degree, but had taken a year off when you hit 21 to travel. The added bonus of that travel was it was free travel. Part of the program you were in had offered internships abroad and you were all for it.

When you came back to the states you had intended to get right back to working on getting your bachelor’s degree...but you had gotten a smidge distracted. You had begun work at the Scottrade Center since it was just a few miles down the road from your school. You managed the VIP and Press Boxes and kept the locker rooms tidy. It was fun and you got to meet a bunch of people...what more could an almost 23 year old want?

But that wasn’t what caused your distraction...no that happened to be a player on the Blues team...T.J. Oshie. After running into each other multiple times, you decided to be bold and ask him out for coffee. He accepted and the rest was history. But as the relationship reached it’s year and a half mark and your summer semester was getting ready to kick-off, T.J. got traded. And he asked you to go with him.

So as the end of your 23rd year ended, you moved to D.C.. You worked for a company that was in your field of study, to get on the job experience, while you searched for a school that would accept all of your transfer credits and was still nearby. Another benefit of working was you were able to pay off the rest of your student loans. It was a great feeling to be debt free thanks to scholarships and hard work.

Then, on the day of your 24th birthday, T.J. took a leap and proposed. Which you heartily accepted...after passing out. Not that it was recorded and constantly held over your head or anything.

So you placed getting your bachelors on the back burner while you planned a wedding, looked for a house that the two of you would live in together, and worked. Not that you minded a bit of it. T.J. had been so involved in house hunting and wedding planning. The two of you had become closer than ever and it just solidified that you were with the right person. You were promoted to the head of your department at work, and overall life was great.

At age 25 for you and 27 for T.J. the two of you tied the knot. It was arguably the best day of your life. And you finally got back to school, finishing two years of work in one, thanks to your job experience. So you were a proud holder of not only a bachelor’s degree in the field you loved...but a MRS degree as well.

Then you found out you were pregnant, but that wasn’t about to stop you from finally reaching your goal of possessing your masters. So you still attended school full time. But as the pregnancy progressed, so did complications. You were placed on bedrest at your fifth month, forcing you to drop the classes that couldn’t be completed online.

It was all worth it though, because a few months after you turned 26, you got to hold your baby boy in your arms for the first time. Your family was tiny, but it was yours and your heart was full. Being a parent was something you absolutely adored. And watching your husband with his son was a sight nothing in the world was worth more than...not even getting your master’s.

But your little boy was almost two, your five year anniversary was coming up...it was time to finish your degree. But, you were going to do it all online. You had less than a year left and could finish all courses online.

Which brings you back to today...stressing over a computer screen. Well, not really over the computer screen, but what was displayed on the screen. You had registered for seven courses...the only ones standing between your and the finish line. As you went to the screen to pay for them, you balked.

“How in the world do seven classes...all online...cost over $6,000?!?!” You raged. “That’s ridiculous! Who just has that type of money laying around?? Not me!!” Sure, you were yelling at your computer and that was generally something crazy people did...but it was making you feel a little better. You opened your mouth to continue raging, but you heard your son calling from his room down the hall. So you gave the computer one last glare and headed for your son.

“Hi baby.” You cooed, lifting him up from crib. You were cherishing it while you could, because sometime within the next few months he would be getting a bed. Your baby wasn’t really a baby anymore.

“Mama!” He shouted excitedly. He wrapped his chubby little arms around your neck and smacked a kiss on your cheek. You nuzzled him in return before heading downstairs. “Play Mama? We play?”

How were you supposed to say no? “Yeah. We can play.” He wriggled around once you reached the living room, so you reluctantly sat him down. He toddled (his version of running) over to his toy chest. Once he had successfully removed all the things inside, he began to bring things over to you.

You were fawning over his favorite stuffed bear when T.J. walked in.

“How are my two favorite people?” He dropped down to his knees as your son rushed over to him.

“Daddy look!” He shouted! “Mama play and you, too!” He grabbed his hand and tugged him over to where you were kneeling, handing him the toy truck that was in his hand. “See Daddy? Truck.”

“Yeah, Buddy. It’s a truck! What other toys do you have?” He ran back over to his pile of toys and T.J. turned to you. “Hi Y/N. How was your day?”

“It was….interesting.” You gave him a quick kiss. “I’ll tell you about it after he goes to bed.” You played with your boys for another hour before deciding it was time to get started on dinner. “Do you wanna help Mama cook, Baby?” You asked standing up.

He nodded his head excitedly before leaping into your arms.

“I’m going to shower. I’ll be down in a few to set the table.” T.J. pressed a kiss to both of your noses before heading upstairs.

You placed your son in his high chair and gave him the package of tortillas. “Can you open that for me?” While he tackled the plastic you turned on the stove and started on cooking the meat and chopping veggies for tacos. While you moved the meat around the pan you turned to watch your son. He had his tongue partially out of his mouth as he focused on annihilating the plastic.

“Mama! Done!” He held up the package, proudly displaying the hole he had created in it.

“Good job!” You gave him a piece of tomato in congratulations. He absolutely loved them...which was odd because you despised them. As you finished up the meat and put it in a bowl you heard your husband making his way down the stairs.

“Smells good.” He kissed your cheek before reaching around to grab some plates. Once the table was set, you transferred the food over and once the tortillas had rested on the grill for a few minutes, dinner was ready.

You placed some food on your son’s tray before sitting across from your husband. Taco night was arguably your favorite night of the week.

“Daddy!! I did! I did!” Your son was proudly pointing to his tray.

“You made this? It is so yummy!” T.J. took a big bite to prove his point and you couldn’t hide your smile. He was such a good dad.

“Such a good job buddy! Mama’s so proud of you!” He smiled at you in return. Life was good.

After dinner you watched a movie and as nine rolled around your son was ready to go to bed. So after helping him brush his teeth and put on his pjs you tucked him into bed, but then you sat in the rocking chair in the corner. T.J. read him a story every night and you always stayed to listen. Once the book was over, you both pressed a kiss to his head and quietly closed the door.

“So today was interesting?”

“Oh yeah. Your son,” You emphasized the ‘your’, so he would know that in this particular scenario it was definitely dad’s fault. “Decided that we needed to leave the doors open because the birdies would get hot outside.” You narrowed a look at your husband. “Because somebody told him that Slapshot likes the rink because he gets hot.”

He gave a sheepish chuckle. “How about that?”

“So I spent the better part of an hour chasing a bird out of our living room. And then there was the lunchtime meltdown because the mac n’ cheese wasn’t in dinosaur shapes like at Uncle Andre’s house.”

“It’s not my fault that Andre likes dinosaur shapes! It was your idea to let him babysit last Friday!”

“That’s because Braden, Ovi, and Tom were there, too!” You rolled your eyes. “But it wasn’t the end of the world. I mean, he ate it. During his nap I started to register for my classes online.”

“Get everything set up?”

“No! It was ridiculously priced!”

“Explain?” He inquired.

“I have seven classes left. They want over $6,000 dollars! For SEVEN classes!! It’s ridiculous! Who just has that type of money??” You demanded.

“Y/N…” He trailed. “We do.”

“No!.....You do.”

“I thought we were past this,” He sighed. “We have a joint bank account. The money is yours, too.”

“I want to be able to pay for school myself. I managed to pay for everything else. It’s important to me that I prove I can do this, too!”

He held your hands and forced you to look in his eyes. “And you can. But there’s no harm in using what we have. If it makes you feel better, you can keep track of the exact amount and when you start working again, put that into a college fund.”

You sighed. “I guess...it just seems so ridiculous. It’s no wonder that people choose not to go to college or struggle so much. It’d cost even more if I took the classes on campus.”

“But...you’re only seven classes away from getting that final degree…” He pointed out.

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I know!” You smirked slyly. “If I work hard then I’ll probably have it done before the baby arrives in April.” You kissed him and then stood up. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Ok.” You walked towards the bathroom and waited for him to process. “Wait!” He shouted. “Baby?!”

As always, let me know if there are any blazing errors!!

#hockey #hockey imagines #imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #caps #washington capitals #capitals #caps hockey #tj oshie #player x reader #request #hockey oneshot

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theoutdoorpursuit · 7 years ago

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The Trials and Tribulations Of a Public Land Hunter: Scouting

I’m entering into my fifth season as a wannabe “Outdoorsman,” still looking for my first successful harvest of a whitetail deer. Until this season, I’ve hunted entirely on private land through friends and family. I still have some private land connections, but they all entail at least a three hour drive. Not ideal for an already seemingly short season.

My passion for hunting has grown considerably each year and as the desire to hunt has increased, I’ve found limited access to huntable properties. My only option, to venture into the public lands offered here in Virginia.

Every hunters heard the horror stories of public land hunting. Wildlife Management Areas (WMAs) woods resembling a pumpkin patch of fluorescent orange on a Saturday morning. Climbing into a tree only to realize there’s someone in it. Fellow hunters passing through during prime hours, blowing up your spot and spooking deer.

We hunt because of our love of nature and the ability to feel secluded in a wild, untouched place. Maybe possible out West, where public land is vast and abundant, but here on the East Coast where demand is high and resources limited, it takes some effort.

From my limited research, good, secluded hunting can be attainable if willing to go the extra mile. I’ve read stories of big, bruiser whitetails deep in Virginia’s George Washington National Forest, where hunters rarely venture. So here I set forth, where most hunters dare not enter, to escape the hunting pressures and search for that elusive feeling of being in the Wild.

As a public lands rookie, it's difficult to find information on where to start, where it's worth actually looking. In a modern age of endless information, one can google damn near anything, but google deer hunting on public lands and nothing. Not a single lead. It was now all to clear to me that good public land intel is top secret stuff. Hunters take that shit to the grave. I was left with one option, to scout hard and hike it out on my own. And so, hike it out I would.

My first scouting trip occurred in July as I headed out to the 1,790,000 plus acres of the George Washington National Forest. Quite a lot of land to aimlessly cover, so better get hiking.

I headed down the scenic Blue Ridge Parkway looking for a spot to hike it out. I’d done plenty of hiking out this way, yet never realized these lands were all accessible to hunters. In a way it was somewhat uncomfortable walking the same trails as hikers. Would these same people be out here in the Fall? What would they say if we crossed paths while fully dressed in camouflage carrying a rifle or bow?

I thought I was getting an early start scouting in July for the upcoming Fall, but I was met with a wilderness completely overgrown in vegetation. Venturing off the trails, that were overgrown themselves, would prove to be quite the task. Off the trail, it looked easy to vanish into the wilderness. Would these same areas be flooded with fellow hunters? Would I be able to find my way back if I ventured deep into the wooded abyss? I pressed on in the humid, Summer heat. It was well over 95 degrees. I continued to trudge through tick infested shrubs and various plants that alarmingly all resembled poison ivy. I swear every plant has three leaves. I plopped down on a log, dripping in sweat as defeat washed over me. What had I gotten myself into?

After an overwhelming trip to the GWNF where my only discovery was the extent I was in over my head, I decided to narrow my search to a couple reputable WMA’s. I had limited experience on WMA’s, a couple squirrel hunts and some days on the rifle range, but it was worth a shot. I had read about one well known WMA. Strict harvesting limitations allowed for one of the best deer populations in the state, or so they said. These restrictions entailed harvesting only bucks with at least four points on a side, yet thankfully doe were still on the menu. Obviously if I had heard about the WMA, it would be known to hundreds of other hunters as well, but the restrictions gave me hope that if luck was on my side, I just might be able to get it done.

With little to no other viable options, I made the hour and a half drive to WMA number one in the end of July, praying that this coming Fall my time and efforts wouldn’t be met with a pumpkin patch parcel of woods, battling hundreds of hunters for a couple of deer.

If you’ve never been on a WMA, they’re relatively difficult to navigate. I entered into the Management Area down a gravel road, looking for the first parking station, driving right past the lot with a wooden bulletin board of announcements and WMA information. As I flipped my car in reverse I looked for the entrance into the gravel lot, yet only saw overgrown grass. I turned into what I thought was an entrance only to be launched forward into a three foot ditched, disguised by tall grass. My Chevy Malibu jolted forward, coming to a thudding halt.

I flipped my car in reverse and hit the gas, but it didn’t budge. The wheels spun and spun. Climbing out of my car, I found it’s front buried into the ditch with only three tires touching the ground, the back driver side wheel a foot in the air. With no cell service and a company car in a ditch, I began to panic. I got back in the car and floored the gas. Nothing. I floored it again. Nothing but spinning wheels. SHIT.

Pausing for a minute to collect my breath, I slowly eased on the gas and turned the wheels back and forth. Bingo. The car slowly popped out saving my ass and most likely my job. Minutes later, as I sat in my car breathing heavily, two guys in a jeep came flying down the gravel road. What an awkward conversation that would have been, had they drove up on a Malibu headfirst in a ditch, in the middle of the day, in the middle of nowhere. If this was any omen to how my time on public land would go, I was in deep shit.

Once I gathered myself and stopped shaking, I decided the only thing left to do was hike. I had come all this way. Seasonal gates were closed for the Summer therefore my only method of scouting would be on foot. So once again, I huffed and puffed through the Summer heat, stopping every five minutes or so to take a refreshing gulp of water from my canteen. I pressed on, through spiderwebs, brush, and briar patches. Although I still wasn’t entirely sure what I was looking for, I gathered a general grasp on the layout of the land. I saw some tracks, found some climbing trees and most importantly saved the trailhead locations on my phone. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

I returned to said WMA weeks later with my good buddy Ed to show him what I’d found and to see if we couldn’t explore further. This would prove easier said than done as Ed had a few too many the night prior. Thankfully, it was a much cooler day as August rapidly approached. 50 or so days until bow season began.

We pressed through the woods, it was nice to have a second eye and someone who had a better idea of what we were scouting. Ed reminded me that the majority of public land hunters would park their truck and fumble about a hundred yards into the woods where they would hang their treestand. All we had to do was think like an overweight, redneck weekend warrior and then go the extra mile. And go the extra mile we did.

Ed was struggling, battling the Summer elements and huffing it through the woods was no easy task, especially after a long night of drinking wine. We spoke little as we marched on, swatting spider webs from our face. The woods were quiet and other than a gaggle of turkeys, seemingly dead.

We came to a bend in the trail when out of the corner of my eye I saw what I thought was a deer. Turning my head, I realized this was no deer, but a young black bear 50 yards from where we stood. Bear was the farthest species from my mind. The WMA’s description had stated that black bear were a rarity, yet here he was. Our first reaction; “Oh shit, where’s mama bear?” but to our relief it was just the young, perhaps year old cub, stealthy passing through the treeline. He paid us no intention, clearly in pursuit of something much more interesting as he trotted along heading towards our intended path. We began to converse loudly in order to announce our presence and not startle the curious cub.

The bear sighting was just what we needed to get our blood pumping and our morale up. Purchasing a bear tag for the Fall season suddenly became intriguing.

We hiked on, down to a river, followed a stream, and located some promising trees. Once upon a time this WMA was a private hunt club. When we discovered trees with indentations resembling marks from old permanent stands, we became optimistic that we had found tried and true spots. Just outside the shaded hardwoods was open brush, prime for bedding. If all went according to plan, the deer would rise and head towards the woods, following the stream line, entering into our field of play.

Now, to find our way back, retrace our steps, and take mental images of our surroundings. Hopefully, come opening day, we would find our coveted climbing trees in the dark hours of the morning. Or perhaps we’d end up fumbling in circles, scrambling to find a tree before the sun beat us up into the sky. Only time would tell.

With my first scouting location in the books, I wasn’t sure whether to feel optimistic or overwhelmed. The important part was that we had somewhere to hunt come opening day. As each Summer day inched towards Fall, I’d visualize opening morning. I’d visualize my tree. I’d also foolishly visualize a monster buck stampeding my way. The chances of killing a big, bruiser deer on opening day in a WMA… slim. The chances of getting lost, striking out, or tangling with other hunters… high. But that’s just public land hunting for you. Still, come October 7th, I’d lace up my boots, spray myself down with scent-away, and nock an arrow. You can’t kill a deer on the couch.

#wma #public land #hunting #scouting #Whitetail #deer

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