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mimibtsghost7 · 4 years ago

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Fuck you and all your little brain washed rats sending people hate because you cant take responsibility for your actions!! But go on stay silent like you always do, pretend its nothing of your business, keep being a fetishizing racist delulu like you love to be while pretending to be the best blog on tumblr!!!

NOT like anyone will see this but YOU will so LET’S GOOO!!!~~

TW: mental health and more (if you feel like this can trigger you, pls don’t read this, breathe in and out and listen to this HERE and remember I love you), loads of tea and Mimi NOT being a friendly and kind ghost.

funny enough:

I never pretended of said I was the best blog. But I guess the fact that you say it might be because you heard it frequently? Thanks for thinking so^^

I sent hate to no one and u r the one sending it to me rn ^^ In my whole 4 year journey on Tumblr I received a lot of love but also worse hate that you can imagine. Yes you are saying now you are receiving hate ... funny how it’s bad when It’s addressed to you but when it’s at me and my dear followers it is not. Still, I never told anyone to go hate on you. You were the idiot that tagged my old blog and as soon as my blog was gone pple searched me and found out you were the reason behind this. But as you keep hating on me. Let me tell you I am kind but don’t mistake that for me being a coward.

I am not into insulting others and I don’t care much if you insult me. BUT don’t YOU DARE touch my dear followers. Insulting ain’t hard. Let me try: The only rat here is you hiding in your hole as an anon. I went and compared your writing with this ask and previous hate asks. And it was you~ Good for you~ the sewers smell just like your filthy mouth spilling sh*t left and right. So on brand. However, I know who you are @hobisbeautifulass Hi ^^

Me racist? HAHAHAHAH you truly know NOTHING about me nor my ex-blog’s message. It was a place when you were welcomed no matter your skin color, religion, gender ... proof? well it got deleted thanks to you. but ask around this time and search for who reblogged my posts as they were always the top of the tags (even if I don’t trust how bad you are at research). I supported the BLM movement and still do and will always do but I did so veeery early without anyone telling me. Not for the notes but because of my humanity. I wished my dear followers’ happy holidays no matter their religions. And never cared about those things. Why judge someone on something based on religion or how they were born. As for the LGBTQ+ community, I was always and will always be there for love being love. I talked about mental health and opened venting nights. I helped left and right and when I was receiving hate because of people like you spitting lies about me. What did I do? Did I go online and called people bad? No. I looked back at myself and asked myself if I did anything wrong. I tried to educate myself and apologized sincerely when I had to. I read books and watched documentaries to learn how to become a better human. AND never repeated a mistake twice. You tend to forget that our cultures are different and sometimes you grow up to see some things as normal when they are not. This is not an excuse tho, so I always believed that I was lacking and if someone had something to say against me, there is a chance they are right and just in case I should reflect on myself. But for your case it was pure nonsense. ME? a stalker? how can I stalk when I have social anxiety and at that time couldn’t even leave my room? I am even afraid of taking public transportations and just the other days I was crying from joy when I took a taxi alone. they said I was in Japan stalking Jimin and Jungkook and took a pic when I was NEVER EVER was on that land. You put me on the same list as people who bought info about BTS’ flights to be on the same plane as them? I was stalked before and let me tell you it ain’t cute and fun. I am even scared of the idea of being followed. that’s why I never shared openly my age, country, or anything about me on my blog. that’s why I have no personal social media to this day and that’s why making my ex-blog was some sort of miracle in my life.

Silent? yes I was silent when I received hate and didn’t even vent to my dear followers or pointed fingers. Why? because I thought as my day was hell I shouldn’t make anyone’s day worse. I was worried about my dear followers with mental illnesses being triggered. I tried to take my life so many times I lost count but I still came here and smiled. It was my safe place and you took it away. Yet, I should pity you? You hated on me first for no reason and you know it deep inside but right now you are trying to convince yourself that you are the angel and feel no guilt. Compared to you. I pointed fingers at no one and didn’t name you when my blog was gone. Why? because compared to you, I thought you will not be able to manage the hate and what was done .. I didn’t want you to suffer the same way I did when you are the one who made me suffer the most the past couple of days. But the kind Mimi is someone you will never remember because you dared touch the friends I love and calling them names. I don’t mind people insulting me but don’t you dare touch my people. I know myself best. My dear friends/followers know me best. I thought ... I could leave without this mess but you keep barking in my ask box and it’s annoying. I left this backup account just to talk to my friends and yet you are here to ruin things again? I should stop being kind to the ones who deserve non of it. I ignored you when I had so many followers and you went silent too because you were scared of me. But as soon as I lost my blog because of you, you went, edited and then reblogged that stalker post. How can I be a stalker? do you even know the definition of a stalker? do you even know shame? well .. I don’t think so.. you said it yourself. You are NOT ashamed (and you reblogged that so many time lol).

Death threats? this is no competition but thanks to people like you I have been there and wish no one to be there not even you. The only difference is that you almost killed me for real. You were not the sole reason? Great job walking away from you beloved word: RESPONSIBILITY. And I didn’t get just anon hate, I got literal tagging by people like you, DMs, and people pointing guns at me. That’s why I didn’t mention you. I was worried about the one who took away what I worked for for 4 YEARS. I was more sad and concerned about the ARMY fandom here. Do you know how many rely on my updates? do you know how many people said I helped them? do you know any of that? do you think 200k people were “rats”? Do you think if I did and say wrong thing I will not be questioned by those people. I always told my dear followers: “friends, if I do or say anything wrong or share anything that hurts anyone please tell me. I am willing to learn from everyone.” But what did you know? what did you do? Well .. guess you love notes? As the most notes you ever got and the most attention was when talking about me?

Love how you talk about fetishing when my blog was what people call “family friendly”. I also like BTS. I love them for their music, talent, personalities and the happiness they give me. I also enjoy BTS’ bond and love their interactions. I posted content of all kinds of interactions JM X JK, JK X V, V X JIN, JIN X SG, SG X JH, JH X RM, RM X JM ... If you are calling this fetishing asian men just because I scream over BTS as a fan and love their bonb. Then aren’t you against the idea of being an ARMY? I was a clear OT7 and you were told that you weren’t right:

Then you answered this without even explaining the nonsense about me:

idk .. I am trying to find sense in your nonsense so .. wait wait let me look at the definition of fetishism first.

Fetishism /ˈfɛtɪʃɪz(ə)m/ noun: a form of sexual behavior in which gratification is linked to an abnormal degree to a particular object, activity, part of the body, etc.

Then .. judging from your URL alone hmmm ... cute. I won’t even talk about the SMUT you write that is full of kinks and fetishism. Well I have no problem with fan fiction but the irony you spit is out of this world.

Also, I made money out of mimibtsghost? HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH no lil one. I worked day and night for FREE. At some point when BT21 just came out and there were no products on AMAZON or anywhere but S.Korea, someone reached out to me to offer 20% off or something for my dear followers. When they asked what I wanted I said what about international giveaways for my dear followers. Basically, made gifs, found content, updates, analysis, edits, and so on for free. Again, w-wait .. Aren’t you the one asking for commissions? Well .. It’s not wrong. But again THE irony.

So, I went to see that post you made about me with “PROOF” and it was just another person who was salty as I got them blocked I can’t even recall who they were but oh well. Their arguments according to YOU and many should be taken as FACTS just because they said them? You said HERE that your first comeback was MOST:7 that came in just last year (2020) SO what the hell do YOU know about what happened years before you came when all the proof you pointed at where baseless without any backing?

Let’s see this so wise person you used to delete my blog and what I have done ^^

The gifs: There is a story to this. The first week I came to Tumblr, It was my first time on this site and the first time I share anything. I shared some content and my analysis had a lot of notes for a small creator that started just a week ago. But I made a mistake, I found a gif and posted it while crediting the gif maker. At the time I had NO idea it was wrong. I logged off and after 5 hours I log in and there was a WAR for that ONE gif. The big blog had me blocked and her friend was telling me to take it off. As soon as the person told me I did IMMEDIATELY and apologized againa and again and told them to tell the original gif maker to deblock me as I want to apologize directly and that they can block me after that. They did and I apologized but they just kept insulting me. Of course it was MY mistake and that’s why I apologized. But for them. for a mere gif (yes I say a mere gif because I made so many gifs and they were used on all platforms but I never thought it was necessary to hate that much on someone like they did to me). That blog was big and had big blog mutuals. Thanks to that, I became someone you do NOT become mutuals with but block and never reblog content from. Without any big mutuals. Without any shoutouts. Only my love for BTS, my dear followers’ support and my hard work.. My blog, became bigger and FAST (I got 10k in less than 6 months after I started) and that brought loads of jealousy and thus more rumors. Even if, I apologized and since then made my own gifs. And I made SO many gifsets that I can’t remember how many there were. What I can recall is at some point I made them daily and many times a day.

Ships Jikook? I posted content of ALL the members interactions. I was here at a time where Jikook stans and Taekook stans where always fighting. BUT I posted about both and even made so many posts to encourage loving all the members and all the interactions. I also used the tags solely used for shipping with other big tags to show that BTS’ interactions are all important and their bond is beutiful. That our fandom shouldn’t hate on a member just because they are not part of a ship we like. And wait .. even if I shipped Jikook? I got called ALL those names by someone who ship the members with readers and write sexual scenes? Like, wait ... I am truly confused. Like, write fanfic and do all you want as long as you hurt no one I guess but why am I getting hurt for doing non of it? Like according to you, the person you should be cancelling is yourself?! I am also not into cancel culture like you so hahah whatever.

Posted stalker pics: well wow the story changes each time. Next thing you will hear that I was the one holding a camera for a member in a Vlive lol. Let me teach you about this update thing I was doing. I follow accounts I trust and that’s how we get info circulating fast. I always do reasearch but sometimes mistakes are made. For example when lately people shared pictures of BTS leaving their virtual concerts and schedules. There was a watermark of a news outlet. Normally we trust those but only later we realized that those people stalked BTS. You clearly can’t know it all. But I still didn’t share many pics related to many events (I will not name those as pple can search them even now because some pple never deleted those). And all big accounts shared many pics then deleted later. This happens all the time but it happened like ONCE for me. However, I am called a stalker for that?

When Jonghyun passed away ... I don’t even wanna recall that night as the memories just ... when that happened I posted about it and send my condolescences. that post had over 10k notes and was at the top the tag. Why did I do that? I was devastated. Yes, many were but I will talk about me rn: I was suicidal the days before that and one of the songs that I listened to when I was broken where by him. I has been in the kpop world since 2006. And learned about his group since their debut with ‘Replay’. I was never a stan but I still knew of many groups and listened to all the songs I liked. I was very sad when he was gone and ANGRY mostly. Why is this angel leaving? Why is someone like me still here? Why did I not leave instead of him? How much did he suffer? And in the midst I posted a post from twitter that stated how agencies usually put down pple with mental illiness and hide it in the industry. Yes, that was important but NOT at that time. I shouldn’t have posted that and I realized after 5 min of doing so that it was WRONG. So I deleted it FAST but it kept being reblogged and I kept getting hate and people telling me: “Go kill yourself”... the sad part is that I almost did as my answer was “true ... why am I still here?” I apologized and logged off then to this day won’t forget crying at 3 AM while walking outside next to my dad. I was outside as I couldn’t breathe anymore and the idea of seeing the walls of my room was hell. I cried and cried and the teary eyes that my father looked at me with are something I am ashamed of to this day. To add one more thing while I am spilling the beans. I hate learning about someone dying. My grandma passed away sometime before that and it was so shocking to me. and some people came and told me when I was mourning her: Go follow that bitch of grandmother of yours. And for what? At that moment I didn’t think I would live to see the next year but I went to therapy and took medecine that was hurting and made me shake all day just to turn somewhat sane. No one knew tho ... I smiled all day and cried all night.. Even on the blog I fought no one of the ones who hated me. I just blocked them but even that was an insult to them?

Again, you said no one should defend me. Yet, you were ready to fight whoever touched anyone around you. What about changing your URL to beautifulassirony

Also THE hypocrisy. If you are sorry then why are you answering an ask of someone isulting someone you want to apologize to? Just make a post wher you apologize or ignore it from the start?

One more thing but surely not the last. You said you were good with research which you are NOT. So, let me show you what an OG detective ARMY can do. But first, as I was scrolling I saw some of your “work” (let’s not even talk about those gifs) and I am just giving my point of view here: I hate how you painted Namjoon as this horny-idiotic-make-dog. Like I get it it’s a fanfic or Namjoon as a dad but ... Namjoon is such a smart man who is very respectful and ofc he is a human with needs like many but what the hell is this way of portraying a character? Also a character is not cool, amazing, and a strong woman just because they curse and belittle their partner.

Oh well, only you kept reblogging that as it show 36 reblogs when only 33 as still there when I looked and out of those 13 reblogs are yours? (you might have reblogged it more) but again some people might have liked ... people have different taste ... so ... whatever.

Let’s continue, shall we ^^. You said you were the victim here when I was the one getting robbed right? How can I believe someone who reblogged the post below and was proud calling themselves an abomination or how the Oxford dictionary defines it: a thing that causes disgust or loathing. For once you weren’t wrong.

What can you expect from someone who has the “I am not like others” kinda mentality while stating relatable things that everyone goes through?

This is getting pretty long. So to sum this up. You are now telling others that hate is NOt ok and that they should be ashamed of themselves when you yourself is not ashamed of hating on me?

I am not the type that sends anon hate. I might ignore some barking but the past days you came and bite me hard. I face the ones I have to face without fear. I know I am not the bad guy here and I don’t care much what you think about me. Even BTS got haters. This says a lot. BUT do NOT dare talk badely of my dear friends/followers. You said you do research well? Start by deleting the post below that was originally by ME from your blog ... oh how meticulous you are. From your baseless receipts to your twisted logic. Indeed people on the internet can say anything and it will be FACTS. You painted me as the devil and painted yourself as this researcher? What’s next you receiving a Phd in ‘pity me’ after your MBA in lies and irony? Whatever~

Whaaatever~ Karma will have upcoming talks with you. No need for you to apologize. I never cared about you and you only got attention using me. But I am not here anymore how will you get that blog running now? Are you gonna add me in a fanfic next? No need for you to send me my appearance fee when you do so~ And no need for you to apologize to me just apologize to you conscience if you have any left. As for me @hobisbeautifulass you are just someone I will forget soon anyway~~

And because according to what you said HERE when you described the things you hate about people and I thought that was VERY close to how you treated me. Thus, you might really not stand yourself rn.

Do.Not.Worry. BTS are starting the Love Myself campaign again and just in time for you to jump in (you are good at jumping to conclusions about me so I won’t worry about you). I know you don’t like me or my friends but be sure to love yourself at least ^^

You are a Hobi stan? Then learn from Hobi to share some sunshine not bring the storm. Have a good day~

#Anonymous #hobisbeautifulass #don't mind the typos as I wrote this in one go #just because I am someone who do not punch back when someone hit me do not mean I will stand nicely when you touch my people #anyway~ bye~#mimibtsghost

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dahniwitchoflight · 4 years ago

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man, a lot been happening on the internet lately, talking about content creators and parasocial relationships being a big topic recently

I almost don’t wanna post anything about it, cuz I’m not sure how to avoid any sort of stirring of the pot, but there’s an angle to this situation that I think a lot of people are confused about, and that’s “where does the fault lie when a person gets hurt in a parasocial relationship?”

And people I guess are thinking this is some sort of case of power dynamic’s, but I think thinking of it in these terms is incorrect to be perfectly honest

does a content creator seem to have a lot of sway over someone who’s fallen into a parasocial relationship with them? sure it can seem that way

but is that the content creator’s fault? No, as bad as that sounds to the tumblr crowd

this is NOT the power dynamic between an abusive father and their child, or a skeezy boss and their secretary, or any other real abusive power dynamic where the victim faces some sort of real consequence for not being compliant with the abuser’s wishes

this is the dynamic between a casino and someone with a gambling addiction.

can you argue that the gambling addiction/parasocial relationship wouldn’t exist without the casino/creator existing? sure you can

can you argue that it’s within the interests of the casino/content creator to get customers and fans? absolutely

but can you also say that the problem in the situation here is inherent to the person with the actual addiction problem here? someone who gets too invested in the scenario through their own desires and or addiction problems? That many people can go to a casino or be a fan of a person in a perfectly reasonable healthy amount and never get hurt or encounter any issues? Yeah

Even if you dislike the casino/creator and have hard feelings for putting you into a situation where you believed you were gonna win it all, even though the odds of that happening were never in your favor, and rightfully feel you’ve been victimized by them, the casino/creator existing and doing there thing I really don’t believe is the thing at fault here

I think there’s something to the idea that people who are vulnerable to addictions like gambling and thinking that theyll win the jackpot of millions against impossible odds is not too dissimilar from a singular fan of some content creator thinking, this is it, I’m the one theyll fall in love with over everyone else, against all the odds itll be me

and also whatever prevents them from realizing that the consequences of losing would apply to them as well, other people in the casino might lose all their savings, but it wont happen to me. Other people might get lost in the fantasy and then end up being dumped, but it wont be me

I think the brain juice would see these as very similar situations, and this addiction angle I think explains a lot for how people get into parasocial relationships in the first place and why they feel like it’s so hard to get out

but people are still free to believe that casino’s/content creators are morally corrupt institutions, just from their nature of the fact that their livelihood depends on people and fans crowding to their type of entertainment

At the end of the day, they cannot control what their fans are going to do, they can’t read the minds of anyone who chooses to come to their establishment, they can’t know at a glance or through conversation who’s going to get addicted and who isn’t, they can only see warnings signs after the fact and then damage control, it’s just a messy reality of life that it happens

There are best practices to prevent these types of things sure but those don’t catch every case and inevitably there are going to be people who fall through the cracks anyway

the correct approach here is to mitigate the addiction problem. that’s the real thing at fault here, not any one person

so to answer the question, where does the fault lie when someone gets hurt in a parasocial relationship?

you might be a victim yes, but not a victim of the casino, as much as it can feel like that, your a victim of an unfortunate affliction

people can be dismissive and yell all they want about alcoholics being drunks, or gamblers having no spine and should just be able to not go to a casino, or people who are overinvested fans should just be able to stop back and not care about a creator so much, but I understand that it’s not that easy

but it still doesn’t make it the fault of whatever you got addicted to, It doesn’t make it anyone’s fault, and the casino/creator has less power over an addicted individual than you think, short of banning them entirely, there isn’t much they can do from their end to mitigate an individual’s behavior, I think that is something some people need to hear, I hope people don’t think I’m callous or believe that people weren’t genuinely hurt by the events that happened to them or something

but the fix to this problem doesn’t lie on the casino’s/creator’s end, it lies in mitigating the addictive disorder in the individual’s in particular’s end

this is purely speaking from someone who runs a blog and has thoughts for a fandom that once upon a time a lot of people seem really invested in, (not so much nowadays lol)

I cannot control anyone of you, I don’t know any one of you, no matter how much I might try or get close or how close any person out there gets to me, I still can’t predict when I might encounter someone who seems overly starstruck, and in no way do I have the ability to navigate those kinds of relationships properly. I simply do not have that sort of therapeutic training and I think it’s a little bit unreasonable for people to expect that from me, despite how charismatic or not I seem like

I just have indeed had instances where another person got really overinvested in “Dahni Witch of Light” and wanted to be in my inner circle of socialness and friends and might have been hurt when I declined that, but at the same time, I can’t do anything about that (thankfully I’m not any sort of real popular LOL and it’s only really happened like once or twice, that I know of, since they made their feelings clear to me in private, but that’s still one or two people that might have gotten hurt)

So what does this all have to do with stuff?

I’ve read all the anecdotes about both Dan Avidan and Vinny Vinesauce, read all the docs, see all these people’s point of view, and yeah it sucks that they got hurt by the circumstances, but all that stuff meant to paint these people in a bad light? did more to me to paint them in a really good light

I saw nothing but people making sure they had the comfort and consent of everything they were involved in, doing best practices when it comes to relationships, talking about their feelings, about their expectations and also doing what they can to protect themselves and their privacy

again the worst things I saw about either of them, is danny building up the fantasy of being with a rockstar a bit too much, egging on any potential parasocial relationship issues that might have already existed, and vinny giving someone HPV (which, is debunked in of itself because that’s not how HPV works in men, even outside of vinny that’s just not how it works.)

the rest of all the stuff I saw esp in the vinny doc, was people not even accusing vinny of saying or doing anything wrong either, but miles and miles of “I assumed he was thinking x” or ”I assumed he was feeling y” and no attempts to communicate with him about any issues they had with him, because they felt awkward doing so, and instead let it fester inside them until they got hurt by it

this is not sexual assault, their mild discomfort about stuff never even happened over sexual topics, just bland things like him over-venting to them sometimes or having lowkey mental issues like being paranoid a little, this is not even being intentionally hurt by someone, this is being bad at communicating with your partner and letting yourself endure a relationship you weren’t actually happy with, because you didn’t want to get dumped by the person you were invested in

and if you feel like you can’t honestly communicate with your partner, not because of anything they did to you, but because of your own internal conflict over how famous he is, and feeling like you’re forced to endure things you aren’t vibing with in a personal relationship

(mind you, I mean the things they said they endured in the doc which was, they didn’t like when vinny would get ranty about his friends or previous sexual encounters he had that went bad or they got weirded out because they thought he was too paranoid about stuff when they were together....which... okay so like tell him you don’t want to hear about that stuff? communicate your problems to your partner? end of story? you never even attempted that, you never even gave examples of things you thought he would do to you other than dump you if you spoke up...... which, I’m sorry, but that’s not some sort of consequence a victim faces from their abuser.... so you can’t even say he would have had a bad reaction, especially when you give examples of him doing exactly the opposite, apologizing for things that made other people uncomfortable WHEN theyve actually communicated to him that they were uncomfortable with it)

-Those are signs that you are too overinvested and too parasocially invested with a person to have an honest relationship with them

like, heck these things aren’t even unique to partnerships, you should be able to communicate when anyone around you is making you uncomfortable, even friends, but if you can’t and the only reason you can’t is because of a parasocial investment in that person, that’s not healthy on your end

Danny sure seems to have been a little bit at fault for building up the fantasy of catching feelings for a famous dude when he intended one night stands, is that the best way to have navigated the situation? No probably not, but to a person who doesn’t have a parasocial relationship with him, this behavior would just be disappointing when the fantasy fizzled out, it’s not inherently harmful

after that point, if after the fact a person who had any sort of interaction with them felt hurt by the experience, there honestly is not much more a content creator could have done to mitigate that, in fact Vinesauce I think seems at least more aware of the parasocial thing and tried more strongly to vet the people he was with to not be those kind of people, but again people aren’t mind readers and nothing will ever be foolproof like that, and I guess some people even took him trying to vet that kind of behavior as hurtful in and of itself, (they took him venting about previous parasocial relationships he had and how paranoid and upsetting they were to him, and took it as some sort of threat against them personally, like they were trying to mindgame what exactly he was telling them, assuming he was saying something else that he wasn’t, which, is assumptions that live entirely in their own minds) but I’m just sitting here like, what else could they have done?

I get that people who had sexual relationships with these people could come away feeling really awful about it, feeling manipulated or duped in some way, but what else could have been done to prevent that from happening other than the people in question just, never interacting with anyone? Which is not a realistic solution, and doesn’t fix the problem of the victim in question moving on and getting starstruck by someone else and having it happen it all over again

If these people want to make friends, want to make relationships with anyone, want to have casual sex, want to have any sort of human connection, there unfortunately gonna have to sort the people they encounter into two different groups, people who have parasocial relationships with them and people who don’t, (and this is NOT people are fans of them and people who are not, you can be a fan and not get caught into the parasocial thing) and it is impossible to get this correct in every single individual social experience that theyre gonna have with every single individual human being, regardless if it’s a sexual relationship or not

in conclusion, I really do hope the people who were hurt by all this can truly heal and move on eventually from this, in no way am I trying to lessen their experiences, but I really don’t think other people deserved to be hung from the gallows over this, it’s no one person’s fault, neither the fan’s or the content creator’s, it’s just a messy interpersonal situation

I believe the correct thing to do is spread awareness about the warnings signs that you might be falling into a parasocial relationship, more effort needs to be put into what this looks like, what it feels like, how to avoid it, how to mitigate it, and how to regulate the very real feelings of love and affection someone might have for a person they see all the time in media but don’t have a real connection with, with the understanding of yeah, if you really can’t enter a casino without losing your life savings, a very real conversation needs to be had if you should even be entering these casino’s/watching their content at all

#my main conflict over this post is is this actually helpful at all or is this just hurting stirring things up more #I don't believe my position is an unreasonable one to have #and i do believe there is something to be gained from reading it #but i don't want to hurt anyone either

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polar534 · 4 years ago

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Jersey Stealing Pt.2

Well. You all need to stop liking my stuff. It only encourages me. Anyways, Jersey Stealing is now at a 4 parter so I lied before apparently. I just got done writing part 3 so I’ll post the second part here now! Honestly it’s the most boring of the 4... so... apologies. I’ve said too many numbers now.

Also eventually I’ll learn how tumblr works and actually just... make a master post... or like link back to previous parts. Ah... dreams. Anyways, we meet a new character today. Apologies in advance, this do be the boring part out of the bunch.

***

“Ms. Noceda?”

“Can you tell me about Luz’s classmates?”

The dish dropped from the woman's hands. The sound of it clattering back into the sink echoed throughout the quiet house.

“I’m sorry!” Amity yelped as the sharp sound caused her to wince.

Camilla turned around quickly, holding up her hands with a smile on her face.

“No, no. It’s fine.” Camilla reassured her gently. “The last time I was asked that, it wasn't a pleasant talk.”

“So, it’s not good then.” Amity sank deeper into her seat at the kitchen table.

In all honesty, there was a part of her that already knew that the truth wasn't pretty. It was the same part that caused a painful twist of her heart whenever her girlfriend 'shut down'.

Camilla sighed. She reached over to the counter and grabbed a towel, drying her hands as she sat down on the opposite end of the small table.

"Well, I'm sure I don't need to tell you this but Luz has always been..."

"Odd." Amity finished for her.

The older lady nodded and suddenly the bags under her eyes seemed to darken. Camilla Noceda looked tired.

"At first, it wasn't such a big deal. Every little child starts off 'odd'." Camilla chuckled. "But eventually all the other kids grew up, while Luz's imagination grew wild."

Amity clenched her fists. She knew where this story was going. Knew how easy of a target a girl like Luz was. After all, it wasn't too long ago that she would jump on the 'odd' ones at school.

"She began to make her classmates feel... uncomfortable. Those who didn't go out of their way to avoid her, lashed out, especially because my daughter doesn't exactly know how to take no for an answer."

"That's an understatement." Amity laughed softly as Camilla cracked a small smile.

"Every school we tried her in had it's own problems. Eventually I think Luz finally understood how the other kids felt about her. That was about when we found a school that seemed to work... but of course there were still problems. And there was also Bryce."

Amity's ears twitched. Bryce? Camilla must've noticed her confusion as the older lady lifted her glasses and rubbed her nose tiredly.

"Bryce was, or rather is, a mean kid who thinks he deserves the world. And because he is the 'star athlete' of the school and is well liked by all the teachers... he usually gets it."

Guilt began to twist in Amity's heart. This sounded all too familiar.

"Him and Luz always got into it. He was the only person who ever managed to bother her. Everyone else she simply... ignored."

Camilla sighed heavily and looked at the table. Amity could tell it bothered her, the way Luz was treated. The witch wondered if Camilla was happier now that Luz had found so many friends in another world.

Or if maybe she was still just stuck in the past.

Amity pushed aside her feelings and Camilla's both as she tried to puzzle together what might have happened the other night. If it was just another spat with Bryce, well, Amity saw how Luz used to handle Boscha. That kinda fighting didn't get to her like this...

Even now, 2 days later, it was obvious something was still bothering Luz.

As Amity sat there, sinking further and further into her chair, another question entered her mind. One that she just had to know... even if it was painful.

"Was there anyone?" The witch blurted out after a short pause.

Camilla looked up at her quizzically.

"Anyone who was... nice to Luz? Or at least gave her a chance."

Amity's heart sank as Camilla shook her head sadly.

"I wouldn’t call the girl nice, but Luz always came home gushing about a Sasha. She was a fine enough girl, never joined the other kids in bullying Luz. I think that’s why Luz held on to the hope that one day they could be friends."

***

“Alright. What’s up with Luz?”

Amity turned as the team captain of the Otter’s skated up to her. The witch immediately turned her head back to look at her girlfriend, sitting quietly in the players box, scribbling something in her notebook.

Luz hadn’t moved all practice.

“Yeah, we noticed all right.” Lokte acknowledged Amity’s unspoken question as she turned back to them with a heavy sigh,

“I don’t know.” Amity answered sullenly.

The witch had nothing. Even the answers Camilla gave her this morning didn’t seem to help. Her shoulders slumped as Lokte lined up for their next shot.

A loud crack echoed around the rink as the puck sailed straight into the goal. Amity’s eyes flicked up once again to Luz. Normally a shot like that would have her out of her seat and cheering.

Instead, the rink remained quiet.

Lokte kicked up some ice as they skidded back around to rest near Amity again. Leaning against their stick, they raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t know?"

"No." Amity growled, digging at the ice with her skates. "And it's getting worse..."

Lokte shifted, tossing their stick in the air flippantly. Amity could tell Luz's behavior was worrying them too. They were anxious to do something.

"All I know is that something happened at our game the other night. Luz ran into her old classmates."

Her captain growled, and Amity knew why. When the team first started to bond with both her and Luz, they wanted to know why they weren't enrolled in any local school. It was a fair question and Luz told them that they were too cool for school. Amity only told the truth to some of her teammates later. About how poorly Luz was treated and how she had decided to be homeschooled when she came back from 'camp'.

Lokte was one of the more vocally upset ones, having been treated similarly themselves for being who they were. Amity watched as their face changed into a slightly more hopeful expression.

"Wait, you said this happened the other night? My brother goes to Luz's old school, he went to the game with a couple of his friends. I'll bother him about it when I get home. See if the little weasel heard anything." Lokte grinned.

Amity could only stare at them, she glanced back up to Luz as her fingers curled tighter around her stick.

"Try to get names for me. I understand if Luz doesn't want to talk, but I'm looking forward to having a... conversation... with whoever is responsible for this."

Amity felt a gloved hand on her shoulder. Turning around she saw was met with the supportive eyes of her team captain.

"I'll let you know as soon as I know." They nodded.

***

- Is Luz home?

- Yeah she's asleep. Why?

- I'm coming over.

Amity stared at her phone. The short conversation with Lokte happened only a few minutes earlier. She didn't know where they lived, or how they knew where she lived. The witch could only guess it had to do with her girlfriend who was currently passed out, snoring, on her lap. Amity dropped the phone to her side and let her face sink into Luz's hair. In the background she could hear the movie that they had put on earlier, but she couldn't care less about it at the moment.

Amity loved the end of every night, when she was finally able to have Luz all to herself. Squeezing the human ever tighter, Luz sleepily snuggled further into her girlfriend’s arms with a large smile on her face.

The witch sighed as she heard a buzzing come from nearby. It was her phone. She felt a sharp flicker of annoyance, before gently kissing Luz's forehead and leaning back to check it.

Swiping across the screen she answered the call.

"Hey. I'm out front. You're going to want to hear this." Lokte voice answered, their tone guarded.

Amity glanced down at Luz who was still snoring away.

"Alright, give me a moment." Amity told them quietly, hanging up.

Taking a deep breath, she shifted Luz aside her on the couch. Her girlfriend groaned softly, but Amity simply grabbed the blanket and pulled it up to tuck her in, silencing any sleepy protest that would follow. Leaning down she swiped her jersey off the floor and gave it to Luz. For being almost entirely asleep, Luz snatched it quickly from Amity's hands, relaxing back into sleep as she buried her face into the material.

Amity smiled softly. She already couldn't wait to get back under the blankets with her. Grabbing a coat from the front closet, the witch opened the door and slipped out into the night. Standing on the front lawn, Lokte held a squirming kid by the ear.

"Come on, let me go already!!"

"Tell her what you told me!" Lokte ordered sharply, letting the boy's ear go and shoving him forward.

Amity raised an eyebrow. This must've been the little brother.

"Fine. Yeesh! Like I told my sibling over here," the boy turned around to glare at the hulking figure of Lokte before turning back to Amity, "I went to the game with a group of my friends. Sasha and Bryce left to go grab some snacks and when they came back Sasha was really shaken up and Bryce was pissed. They told us something about a really creepy delusional girl who was stalking you. Claiming to be your girlfriend."

Amity's eyes narrowed.

"I don't see why I'm in trouble! We were just watching out for Amity. I mean Bryce usually over exagerrates everything but this was serious. Sasha looked genuinely freaked out, and nothing EVER gets to her. They told the girl that they would call the cops on her if she came near you and then we left shortly after. That's it. That's all that happened. I don't even know what the creep looked like."

Amity's mind was buzzing with anger. She could feel her face going red and had to remind herself to breathe as she heard the two siblings begin to squabble.

"You little, THAT WAS LUZ! Amity's actual girlfriend!"

The boy's eyes widened as they shot between Amity and Lokte.

"Wha- I didn't, I didn't know that!! I swear! The way Bryce was describing her you'd think she was some sort of criminal!" He yelped as Lokte grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket.

"Go. Wait. In. The. Car." They growled. "We'll talk about your choice in friends later."

The boy shrank under his sibling's glare and Amity felt a small bit of pity. Lokte was no small person, they towered over pretty much everyone they met and had the muscles to match. Being on their bad side had to be terrifying, but in actuality that was nothing compared to the pure fury radiating off of Amity as the brother's words registered.

After they watched their brother climb back into the car, Lokte turned to Amity and immediately flinched in fear under the witch's furious stare.

"Looks like I'll be paying Luz's old school a visit tomorrow." Amity growled after a short pause.

Lokte's fear eased only a bit as their eyes lit up with mischief. "Let me know if you need anything."

"I'll see you tomorrow at practice." Amity nodded, ignoring the suggestion as she turned to walk back into the house.

She stopped with her hand on the door handle and turned around. Lokte was climbing back into their car. The teammates shared a look as Amity nodded.

'Thank you.' She mouthed.

Lokte gave her a small smile.

'Anytime.' They mouthed back, turning on the car and pulling away.

When Amity went back inside, she crawled back into Luz's arms, squeezing her close. Tomorrow, she would have to talk with Luz about what she had learned, but tonight?

Tonight Amity buried her head deep into Luz's shoulder, her anger draining rapidly under her girlfriend's warmth.

Regardless of how Luz was always somehow able to relax her, Amity laid there wide awake. Wishing she could do something, anything, to somehow fix the years of emotional abuse Luz had suffered.

All she could do however was hold Luz closer and wait until morning...

#toh #toh au #the owl house #lumity #Hockey AU #part 2 of 4 now because I have problems #will probably post the 3rd part soon #the owl house au

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years ago

Text

Number Two (Sebastian Stan x Reader)

MASTERLIST

Characters: Sebastian Stan x Female!Reader (AU)

Summary: Reader hopes and dreams to be the first choice, but she ended up being an option.

Warning: Angsty, cussing, INFIDELITY, sugar daddy kinda relationship? I mean, well. You'll understand it soon after reading this. Italics meant a flashback in the end alright? I shall give you guys some angst yooooo!! Y/N means your name.

Words: 2,386

A/N: I’m posting the ones I haven’t posted yet from Wattpad as I take my break. Might be taking one more week of break too. Hehehehe.

REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE IT A LIKE, IF YOU’VE LIKED THIS SHORT ONESHOT! THANK YOU!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too.

MY WORKS ARE NOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

Kisses, feather like kisses were peppered on the back of your neck. His warmth enveloping around you, those comforting arms stuck on your waist, making you feel jello on the knees, soon enough to buckle and be weak for him.

"Draga," Sebastian lowly spoke ever so sweetly, still peppering you with kisses as he stood behind you, watching your skillful hands do the job in making dinner. His presence was making you weak, too weak for your own good. You hummed a reply, your complete focus wholly on the vegetables you were chopping. Sebastian's thumbs were slowly caressing your waist, his lips hidden behind the front of his teeth as he was anxiously trying to think how to word everything out better.

Better words that would not leave your heart in misery and in pain.

"I...I--Well," He stuttered, his heart skipping a beat. The image of you in his huge polo was making him want to stay, it was making it worth enough for another pathetic lie to be said for the latter. You were perfect in his eyes, despite of the stomach flabs, your height and especially your big, wonderful heart.

Y/N was the epitome of every man's dream, her attitude and personality was making him stay. Yet, why didn't he pick you in the first place?

"You're going?" You calmly uttered, your knife stopping halfway from cutting a tomato, a painful smile lifting the ends of your lips, wanting nothing more than to frown and show him how he was hurting you, crushing your big, innocent heart.

He hesitatingly nodded, his lips in a tight thin line. Sebastian wanted nothing more than to stay, he wanted to cherish this sweet, mirthful moment with you. But, why didn't he? Why did he still chose her?

"Yeah. She texted---told me we had reservations at eight in which I totally forgot about, she even said I asked for it the other night but it slipped out of my mind," He forgot, you thought. Even though you didn't want to cheer and be happy that you were making him forget her, you still did. Your heart clapped from the mistake he did.

Yet, why did it still hurt?

"Well," You sighed, spinning around to see Sebastian pouting, his mind currently in a conflicted battle. "---you better get going, Love."

Love. It was the truth. You already love him with all your heart, and the more this..relationship of your continues, the more it becomes difficult to let go. Not that you plan on doing that soon.

"You sure you're not mad?" He stared into your eyes, it was technically the window to everybody's soul and from his perspective..All he saw was your positive, loving self. Never seeing the wounds hidden behind those E/C eyes of yours. Nonetheless, it was hurting him to leave you either.

"No, I'm not." Lies. It was all lies because all you ever felt in that exact moment was pain. All you wanted to do was lock himself up in your apartment, wanting to scream at him as you hoped to be his choice, and not his option. "---you need to go," You fidgeted with the collars of his polo, eyes trained on his Steele blue eyes that you so wanted not to forget before it vanish soon, the other woman having the bigger privilege to stare at his gorgeous blue eyes all night.

The truth was making your heart itch in vain.

"But, I'm keeping this polo of yours. It's comfy," You joked, forcing yourself to smile. His pout turned into a chuckle, that's right. That's what you wanted his last image to be, his beautiful laugh. "You're seriously going to make me come out shirtless?"

"Oh come on, you have tons of shirts inside my closet. You can seriously have a sleepover and not be worried about having no clothes to wear the next day," All you could ever do was dream that he could sleep beside you all night, keep him tuck beside you with your love. However, he never did. A few times, sure. But, he always went back to her. He always comes back home.

And your only wish in your life was to finally be his home, where he could come home to you and only you.

All Sebastian could ever do was chuckle. It was a phrase that he could never answer back, he wanted to have that moment with you too. But, the knot he had with her was making everything impossible.

"Try not to finish everything for me, I'm coming over again tomorrow," He smiled, the painful happiness reaching his eyes. Sebastian leaned down to give you a deep kiss, he so wanted more than just a kiss, but his phone kept vibrating inside his pockets and it was frustrating him.

The softness of your lips made him kiss you another, trapping that softness in between his teeth, softly tugging the flesh as he rested his forehead on yours, sharing exasperated breaths with you. After that breathtaking kiss, you were a goner. Definitely making your knees buckle behind you but you toughly stood on your ground.

"I love you," Sebastian voiced out completely breathless, like he was scared that somebody else would hear. Though the meaning behind those words made everything worth the sins. It made everything better. "I love you more," and it was the truth. You loved him more than he ever could do.

Sebastian left the apartment, not forgetting to give you another kiss before he went out and about. Back to where he was supposed to be. You bit your lip in sadness, your eyes turning hot and cloudy, tears threatening to fall as you stared at the ceiling, trying your hardest not to but everything you see was reminding you of him.

Your apartment, your clothes, your credit card, and basically everything. It was all from him, he bought everything for you, just for you to be his.

Even though, he wasn't rightfully yours to call.

"Fuck," You whined out, on the verge of tears as you held the curves of your waist. You held your nose bridge, trying to stop the tears from falling because you didn't want to cry. All you ever wanted was to embrace the positiveness, yet as you remember the previous rendezvous, the reality was making you down in the dumps. "---G-Guess I have to eat by myself then," You stuttered, taking small, grudging steps towards your refrigerator.

The freezer slapped open, taking out the beef you saw something shiny in the middle of the cave like, cold ice. Your fingers delicately touching the shiny jewelry sitting in the middle of your freezer, digging it out of the cold compartment. Your fingertips painfully feeling how cold the jewelry was.

He probably wanted the time to stop, even wanted her feelings for him to turn cold so that was why he chucked it in the freezer. What a dork, you thought out loud mindlessly. Shaking your head, you examined the jewelry resting in the middle of your palm and wanted nothing but to throw it away.

Sebastian's wedding ring.

Despite of how he was trying to keep it away from him. It still hurt to see it up close and on the palm of your hand. Why? Because in the words of the country's law.

You were still number two, and will never be his lawful woman.

"Welcome to Starbucks, what will be your order for today, Ma'am?" You energetically welcomed the new customer standing in front of you. She was a beautiful woman, perfect even. Her features were proportional and sharp, blonde hair wavy looking like she just had curled it with a curling iron five minutes ago. The woman had a physique of a sexy model, curvy and busty.

She was the entire opposite of you. Certainly even older than you.

"One Cinnamon Dolcè Lattè," She spoke with a raspy, sexy thread of her voice. It was probably her tone of voice, God had gifted her with a tone of voice like Scarlett Johansson. You nodded with a friendly smile, tapping her order up on the monitor screen laying in front. "Will that may be all, ma'am?"

"Oh, and a Caffè Americano," The beautiful woman added. You punched her orders and remained eye contact with her. "Anything else?" She clucked her tongue, taking a glance at the menu above her. You tapped your foot in habit as you wait for more orders to come.

"One Gluten free breakfast sandwich," She nonchalantly answered. When you thought she would order more, she began whipping her pretty head around, appearing to find a friend.

The woman's emotionless face lit up when she got a glance of the man she was waiting for. Her demeanor changed and especially her voice which turned higher and jolly. "Babe!" She called her boyfriend jogging towards to where she was. Your eyes went straight to the man's shoes. Grey Nike running shoes, black jogger shorts and a grey shirt, his white beats clung around his neck. You knew that style of outfit whenever he goes for a run, you knew those thighs...

Your breath became labored, palms began to sweat and your throat turned dry when you saw a very familiar face that was slowly coming closer. He certainly didn't felt your presence as he haven't got a glimpse of your dumbfounded face.

Sebastian laid his gorgeous Steele blue eyes on her, those eyes that have been staring at you lovingly the other night. Now, those orbs were fixated on a woman who he tied the knot with. A woman who was the first choice and not an option. "You want something?" The woman batted her eyelashes up at him and you wanted nothing more than to run off and escape from the nightmare happening in front of you. Yet, you couldn't because your feet stood cold and unmoving on the ground. Your eyebrows were furrowed as your eyes were trained on the sweaty, precious man that you love.

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks," He nonchalantly muttered, eyes still on her and you wanted him to look into your eyes instead. Just like how he does. The woman snapped her head in your direction, skimmed her eyes from your face towards your name tag. Her whole demeanor turned smug, a coy smile tugging her lips in a tight smirk. "That may be all.." She paused, reading your name before you saw a mischievous glint behind those eyes. "---Y/N,"

With just one mention of your name, it had Sebastian's eyes concentrated on you. His mouth forming a tight, thin line from the realization that you were right in front of him, from them, from his wife. His broad shoulders fell and became slacked when his eyes connected with yours. Everything came crashing down.

It's definitely a small world after all. Destiny was giving you the agonizing pleasure to see the lawfully wedded wife face to face, making your make-believe world disappear in just a snap.

Your eyes turned hot and your heart felt like Thanos was gripping your heart with his gauntlet. You knew Sebastian felt and saw the vulnerability you just launched. The world turned hazy and steady around you, even the noise buzzing around the coffee shop was slowly fading away, your focus only on the couple in front of you.

So, it was her. His wife still smiled so innocently, looking naive yet those smiles of hers..Hatred came with it, being the first emotion you see behind her eyes when she brought her walls down.

She knew.

"I’ve always wanted to be a Stan," You muttered beneath your breath as Sebastian hovered above you, his lips lightly ghosting on top of yours. His medium length hair cascaded around his beautiful face, caving in his gifted features as he looked damn breathtaking. Sebastian lightly pecked your lips, your hands shamelessly caressing his protruding bare firm chest, trailing down his fit torso.

He avoided looking into your eyes, staring at your lips instead. He knew how your eyes were sparkling in aspiration and it was hurting him to answer the truth.

"You know that'll just complicate things, right?" He gave out a forced smile.

"I know, Seb. I was just kidding,"

You only gave a smile back as you trapped him in a heated kiss, dissipating the ache surrounding your sinful soul. Creating an unrestrained relationship with a married man was completely obnoxious, never have you imagined doing this all your life.

But, you loved him. You love him a little too much and it was too late to stop now because you would rather be the person he runs to and not the person he comes home to. You'd rather be labeled as an option than be labeled as nothing.

Only you can dream about being a Stan and you never know when you'll get tired of wishing when it'll come true...

Taglist for every Sebastian thing I write (LMAO): @silverkitten547 @crazybutconfidentaf

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan imagines #seb-owns-these-tatas #Bucky Barnes #lance tucker #chase collins #Martin Waters #carter baizen #tj hammond #jack benjamin

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years ago

Text

Déjà Vu (Or are we losing our minds?) VII -Modern!Shirbert

A/N: Based on that one tumblr post that I lost but I hold dearly in my heart -Danny

Words: 1,408

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Seven: Blythe's Flowers.

It's been very rare to have known you,

very strange and wonderful.

-F. Scott Fitzgerald.

“Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen!” Gilbert said as soon as he opened the door. “Hope you had a great night– Winter won’t defeat us, guys!” He dropped his bag behind the counter and put on his apron, ready to start the day.

It was then that an extremely cute, disheveled woman, barged into his flower shop and yelled:

“I need to say ‘fuck you’ in the most lavish way possible,” She slammed fifty bucks on the counter. “Make the most offensive bouquet you can think of.”

___________________

Done was an understatement. Anne was sick of this push and pull situation with her exboyfriend.

He’d lied, cheated, and then played the victim part all too well for his own good, and she was about to pluck it all out. She had the screenshots, she had the love letters that were filled with lies. She had everything, and she only needed to add the cherry on top.

“Um- Hi,” The man behind the counter said clumsily. “I- uh, I… did you just say you want to give someone an offensive bouquet?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” She said defensively. “I’m not the bitch in this story! He had it coming for months!”

“Alright, okay,” He raised his hands. “None of my business…”

The man looked around the shop like he had no idea where to start.

“Uhh… Oh! Okay so, did he cheat?”

“Excuse me?” Anne blinked.

“Well, I have foxglove over here…” He walked around the counter to show her the pinkish flowers. “They're all about insincerity… I guess it doesn’t need to be about cheating…”

“Oh but he did!” Anne growled, looking at the flowers as if they were making fun of her. “For five fucking months! Can you believe it?”

The poor guy stepped back at her outburst, raising his eyebrows in slight panic and grabbing a bunch.

“Okay, foxglove it is…” He mumbled. “I also have geraniums, but I consider their looks a bit too friendly for this situation, though they represent stupidity in some cases…”

“Stupidity fits nicely in my bouquet,” She sentenced.

“Sunflowers are perfect for this!” The man said, excited about finally getting a hold of the situation. “False and haughty people...”

“I thought I was the only flower-nerd in town,” Anne couldn’t help a little smirk to show up at the man’s eagerness. “Of course, that was a silly thought considering you own a flower shop.”

“If you’re gonna do something, you better do it thoroughly, right?” He shrugged, picking more flowers as he walked back to the counter.

“Yes,” She agreed. “Where does one learn so much about flowers and their meaning, though?”

He stopped for a second and looked at her like he’d never been asked that question before.

“I…” He frowned. “Huh, well… books?”

“That makes sense,” Anne grinned. “Flowers are one of the most beautiful creations on earth, don’t you think?”

“Definitely,” He nodded. “They’re fresh, vibrant, and they smell good!”

“They feed the bees!”

“They feed me,” He snorted, grabbing a sunflower and talking to it. “Thank you for that, Madame.”

Anne beamed at the sight. ‘What a dork’ she thought.

She shook her head then. No! She was there because a man had broken her heart, she wasn’t going to allow another man to have his way with her so soon after Roy. Not today, Satan.

___________________

Did he seriously talk to a flower in front of the pretty costumer?

Yes, and he would be cringing about it for the rest of his life.

“So,” He cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. “This guy… is he an exboyfriend?”

The woman stood in silence for about ten seconds. He was about to apologize and say it was clearly none of his business when she let out a scoff.

“I mean, yes. Obviously,” She stated. “I wouldn’t be buying a bouquet that says fuck you to my father.”

“Well, some people have shitty parents, and sometimes saying ‘fuck you’ to their faces only makes things worse, so...”

“My father is lovely,” Her voiced softened. “But I do get your point… I guess that if you have a knack for theatricality, insulting your parents without them knowing must be cathartic.”

“I agree, though my dad was also great,” He smiled, then looked down at the bouquet he was making. “This guy, however…”

“Roy,” She sneered. “He’s a twat.”

“I see,” Gilbert eyed her carefully. “I’m sorry if I’m being too snoopy, but why are you paying for this when you could just delete his number and keep going?”

“Because he’ll propose to one of my college friends today,” She had that dangerous glint back in her eyes. “And I’m about to give her the best engagement gift she could’ve asked for.”

“Oh,” Gilbert tilted his head. “Was she… uh, the one that..?”

“I don’t know,” The girl brushed it off like that really wasn’t her priority. “For all I know, he’s been sleeping with different girls while dating me, so she could very well be one.”

“Ugh,” Gilbert grimaced. “that’s exactly how you get syphilis…”

“Right!?” She replied heatedly. “I went to the doctor as soon as I found out, he’s so gross! Luckily I was fine, but I hope he gets rabies.”

Gilbert let out a childish laugh.

“That’s not an STD,” He replied stupidly.

Seriously, just kill me already, Gilbert begged silently, but she smiled.

“A girl can dream…”

“Well, all done,” He said after two minutes of carefully mingling the flowers.

She examined the bouquet, an astonished smile on her face.

“It’s amazing! If I didn’t know what it meant I’d say it’s beautiful...”

“Anger can be pretty too,” He replied simply, the image of her sudden intrusion and her frown in his mind.

“You’re right,” She grinned, then rummaged through her pockets. “How much, then?”

“Oh no,” Gilbert frowned, lifting a hand. “Just take it.”

___________________

“W-What?” Anne blinked in surprised.

“I won’t stand here and watch you pay for this,” His eyebrows were scrunched down, but his mouth was slightly turning into an amused grin. “It’d be rude.”

“Rude?” She let out an incredulous laugh. “It’s your job!”

“It’s for your exboyfriend,” He replied. “I won’t let you spend money on a person that sounds like trash!”

“I can’t accept it for free!” Anne rolled her eyes. “I’ll have my gratification later, when Lauren finds out what an absolute ass her fiance is!”

“Wait, what?” The man tilted his head. “Didn’t you say he was going to propose today?”

“Well yeah, but it’s not exactly a surprise, they’re making a whole lunch date to make it official–” She shook her head, realizing how surreal it was to share all this private information with a stranger. “Listen- uh, What’s your name?”

He was about to reply when a second costumer entered, distracting him from the chat.

“Hello,” She watched as he straighten his posture and smiled warmly at the person. “I’ll be with you in a second,” then he turned back to her. “Listen, whatever you’re doing, I hope you don’t hurt the girl too much, she’s not to blame–”

“I know that!” Anne replied in slight outrage. “I’m not making this to rub it on her face, I’m trying to make her see he’s not what she thinks he is!”

“Okay, fine!” He whispered back in the same tone, raising his hands in defeat. “Just making sure…”

“Here,” She tried to shove the fifty bucks on his hand. “Please, just take the money.”

“I won’t,” He chuckled, softly pushing her hand away along with the bill. “Tell you what, don’t pay me in cash. But please, do come back after you’ve done your whole romantical heist to tell me how’d it go, you can’t leave me like this.”

His eyebrows then raised in expectation, a pleading smile on his face as he patiently waited for her reply.

“I…” Anne hesitated, then bravely offered, “only if you let me buy you lunch so we can talk about it during your break- if you have a break, I mean, I don’t see anyone else working here…”

His eyes shone at the mention of a shared lunch, wich she found endearing.

“See you later, then,” She mumbled, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious about her offering. She grabbed the flowers and stopped once more. “Oh! Sorry, I almost forgot- what was your name, then?”

He smiled widely, extending one hand for her to shake before leaving.

“Gilbert.”

Taglist.

@ninizkd @http-itsrebecca @fuckthisshitimoutyall @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @little-boats-on-a-lake

#twoidiots writing #anne with an e fanfic #anne with an e #anne shirley x gilbert blythe #anne shirley cuthbert #Gilbert Blythe #DV fic #shirbert #shirbert fanfic #awae

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purrincess-chat · 5 years ago

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Kill Em With Kindness CH2

Thank you all so much for 3.5k (and growing)! You are all so wonderful, and I’m glad that you all enjoy my content enough to stick around and follow. I have a lot of plans for the future, and I just hope that you all will like them! Here is part two of this next spite filled adventure.

The opening scene and really this whole fic were inspired by lenore’s post from forever ago after Chameleon came out so shouts out! Also, I know several of you wanted me to tag you when I updated this, and I will do my best to get everyone, but I suggest getting an AO3 account and subscribing to the fic there instead. You’ll get an email whenever I update, and I always post on AO3 first before tumblr.

Read on AO3

Previous chapter Next chapter

Chapter 2

“You know, when you made these plans with Adrien, I thought you meant to be nice,” Tikki said chidingly in the bathroom as Marinette washed her hands several days later.

“I am being nice,” Marinette said with an innocent pout.

“You put a ‘Coping with loss’ book on Lila’s desk yesterday.”

“She said her hamster died.”

“And the safety glasses by the napkins in the cafeteria?” Tikki cocked a brow.

“Max was worried about losing an eye.”

“You did your science presentation on tinnitus.”

“Well, after the music festival with Juleka’s mom, I was worried about our hearing.” Marinette snatched a paper towel from the dispenser and dried her hands.

“Your history report on the greatest liars and cheats in history?”

“I became fascinated with P.T. Barnum’s life after that movie and finishing with a comparison of Volpina and Rena Rouge was just a modern-day example everyone could identify with.” Tikki gave her a look. “I got a standing ovation for that presentation.”

“What about the fact-checking robot you petitioned Max to make?”

“For Alya for her birthday! I’m just trying to help her become a better journalist because I’m a good friend.” Marinette placed her hands on her hips haughtily.

“Speaking of Alya, you’ve been telling her to just hang out with Nino lately.”

“She said she wanted to spend more time with him. I’m just being supportive of their relationship,” she shrugged.

“Marinette,” Tikki sighed.

“What? We can’t expose Lila, so we’re just playing along until she inevitably exposes herself which I will watch probably with popcorn,” Marinette said with a laugh. “It’s called kill em with kindness.”

“It’s called being petty.”

“Semantics,” Marinette waved it away, but Tikki was unamused. “Look, I can’t beat Lila at lies. She just makes more, so I’ve come up with another plan that doesn’t harm anyone and keeps everyone from getting mad at me for calling her out. I mean, you saw what happened the other day when she got me expelled. Scarlet Moth almost made a comeback, and I was on the frontlines.”

“I guess we can’t let that happen again…” Tikki reasoned, tapping her chin.

“Exactly. Lila wants everyone to believe those things, so I’m just gonna let her keep falling down the rabbit hole until she eventually hits the bottom,” Marinette said with a twisted grin. “If I happen to push her a little deeper along the way then so be it.”

“That’s very underhanded of you, Marinette.”

“I don’t like it when people use my friends and threaten me.” Marinette clenched her fists. “She almost got me akumatized multiple times now, and we can’t ever let that happen.”

“You’re right. Just be careful,” Tikki advised.

“Don’t worry, Tikki. Coming up with solutions is my superpower.” She winked as her phone buzzed in her pocket with an akuma alert. “Speaking of, we have a city to save. Tikki, transform me!”

***

“Ladybug!” Alya waved her down after the battle, brandishing her cell phone. “Do you have time for a quick interview?”

“A little,” she said with a shrug. “Make it quick.”

“Okay, okay, many of my viewers want to know what advice you have to help people stay positive to avoid being akumatized,” Alya began, pressing record.

“Well, I would recommend changing your perspective a little. Instead of being bummed out about failing a test, maybe commit to studying harder next time. If you get into a fight with your friends, just take a deep breath and remember that if they’re your real friends, they’ll forgive you.” Ladybug replied, placing her hands on her hips. “And if you do get akumatized, don’t make a big deal out of it. Chat Noir and I will always be there to save you. Negative emotions are a part of life just like positive ones, and everyone can have a bad day, even me.”

“Next question, with the passing of Hero’s Day, my viewers want to know what they can do to help you and Chat Noir.”

“Just do your best every day. Lift each other up instead of tearing each other down and do your best to help others who need it,” she said with a smile.

“My friend Marinette is like that, always helping others and helping us stay positive,” Alya remarked, and Ladybug bit back a smirk.

“I think I’ve met her a few times. She’s alerted me of a few akumas here and there.” She tapped her chin with a coy smile. “Not everyone has superpowers like me and Chat Noir, but there are a lot of ways to help out in your school, in your community, or even in your own home just like your friend. I think that everyone should strive to be a Marinette.”

She pressed a hand to her earrings as they beeped and palmed her yoyo, flashing Alya a peace sign. “Gotta go before I change back.”

“Thank you for your time, Ladybug!” Alya bounced on her heels, clutching her phone to her chest as Ladybug tossed her yoyo over the roof.

“Bug out!”

***

When Lila walked through the doors of the library that afternoon, she stopped short when her eyes locked with Marinette’s sitting at the table with Max. They held that same taunting innocence that made Lila’s blood boil, and she knew this was another one of her “nice” schemes.

“Oh, Lila, there you are,” she greeted with a smile, and Lila did her best to suppress an eye roll. “You haven’t been doing so well in class, so I’ve asked everyone to pitch in helping you catch up. Max is here to help you with your maths and science, Rose has agreed to help you with Literature, Sabrina can help you out with history, and then Nathaniel said he would be more than happy to help you with the art project we have due next week.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. Adrien agreed to help me,” Lila said, waving it away. “He should be here any minute.”

“Actually, he had a pop-up fencing lesson with Kagami this afternoon. She insisted because her mother is so hard on her to improve her technique, and Adrien is the only opponent who challenges her enough, so he just couldn’t say no,” Marinette explained.

“Adrien does score well across the board on all of his exams; however, his schedule guarantees an 87.96% chance that you won’t get sufficient help in order to pull your grades up in time, so Marinette reached out to the rest of us to step in on his behalf so you don’t fail the semester,” Max stated, and Marinette smiled sweetly beside him.

“As class representative, I’m just looking out for the needs of everyone,” she said, standing up. “Thanks again for your help, Max.”

“No problem, Marinette.” Max waved it away. “Oh, and I will have prototype designs for that software you asked me for later this week.”

“Awesome! You’re the best, Max!” Marinette clasped her hands together cheerfully. “Good luck, Lila, and let me know if you need any more help.”

Lila offered her a forced smile before her face fell into a scowl.

“Have fun at movie night!” Max called, waving as she left.

“Movie night?” Lila quirked a brow.

“Yes, many of our classmates are convening to watch movies at Kim’s house this evening, but seeing as it’s a movie I’ve already seen, I agreed to help you catch up on your studies tonight instead,” Max explained, pulling out his textbooks. “I’ve assembled 100 maths problems for us to work covering each section of material that you missed while you were traveling then I have a PowerPoint reviewing over our particle physics unit from last term-”

Lila glared at the door Marinette had gone through, gripping her pencil with white knuckles. She wasn’t quite sure what game Marinette was playing with her, but she was definitely up to something. No matter, she wasn’t about to be defeated so easily. After all, she had Gabriel Agreste on her side.

***

“How did Lila react to Max?” Adrien asked as Marinette grabbed a juice from the snack table.

“She looked half ready to strangle me,” Marinette replied, popping the tab and taking a sip.

“There isn’t going to be a lot I can do if my father decides to use her in photoshoots again, but I’ll help you in any way that I can outside of that,” he said, grabbing a cookie.

“What are you two whispering about?” Alya asked with a smirk, and they both stiffened.

“Uh, I was just asking Marinette if she wanted to sit with me during the movie,” Adrien said, nudging Marinette with his elbow.

“Y-Yeah, I- of course. You don’t mind, do you, Alya?” Marinette fumbled, and her friend gave a proud beam.

“Not at all. I was actually on my way to tell you that I want to sit with Nino.” She winked.

“Great. Then it’s settled.” Adrien waved as they moved to their bean bags.

“How did she sneak past your father anyway? I thought he was some impenetrable wall?” She asked, and Adrien threw his head back with a sigh.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Is it wrong I kind of wish she’d teach me?” He chuckled, popping a popcorn kernel into his mouth.

“Your dad let you come to this, didn’t he?” Marinette pointed out, but Adrien averted his gaze guiltily.

“I’m technically supposed to be meeting with my Chinese tutor right now, but I may have told him I lost my voice while also telling Gorilla that this was his address,” Adrien admitted, tapping his chin with an impish grin.

“Sneaky,” Marinette complimented, but he curled his shoulders.

“I feel kind of bad disobeying him, but all I want to do is see my friends. What’s so wrong with that?” He shrugged, and Marinette offered him a smile.

“Nothing, and I’m sure your dad will come around eventually,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks, Marinette. I really hope so.” He smiled weakly, his gaze softening on her. “You really are the kindest girl at school. Lila won’t know what hit her.”

Marinette bit back a smile, cheeks pink and heart pounding.

“Ya know, Adrien, maybe if your dad ever allows it we could-”

“Lila, Max, you made it!” Kim called, and Marinette felt her blood run cold.

“I’m a really fast learner,” Lila said, shooting Marinette a pointed glare, and her jaw clenched as Nathalie entered through the doorway beside her. “Oh, Adrien, I ran into Nathalie on the way over. She was worried about where you were, so I told her we could check here for you.”

“Adrien, you’re supposed to be at Chinese right now,” Nathalie scolded, and Adrien stiffened, face falling. “If you come now, I won’t tell your father about this.”

“Yes, Nathalie,” he said glumly, shooting Marinette an apologetic wince. “I’ll see you at school.”

“I’m sorry, Adrien. I didn’t realize you’d get in trouble.” Lila winced, pressing a hand to her lips in an ‘oops’ manner. “Nathalie said your father was worried.”

“It’s okay, Lila. It’s my fault,” Adrien said as he passed, head hung low as he made his way out with Nathalie.

When the door closed behind them, Lila curled her shoulders and turned to everyone with a pout.

“I’m sorry. I feel like I ruined everything. I didn’t realize that Adrien was here without permission,” she said, covering her face.

“Don’t sweat it, Lila. You didn’t know,” Nino assured her, and she peeked over her hands.

“I hope he doesn’t get into too much trouble,” she fretted, but Nino waved it away.

“Nah, Nathalie totally sticks up for him. If she says she won’t tell, then she won’t,” he said, and Lila relaxed a little.

“That’s a relief,” she sighed.

“Well, since Adrien had to bounce, why don’t you take his seat next to Marinette? You two have been getting along so great lately,” Alya suggested, pointing to the empty beanbag beside Marinette, and Lila flicked her gaze to meet Marinette’s with a grin.

“Do you mind, Marinette?” She asked, a challenging glint in her eye as if to say, ‘your move.’

“Not at all.” Marinette smiled sweetly as Lila paced over to sit down, and her phone buzzed in her pocket with a text from Adrien.

Well, looks like we have our work cut out for us.

Marinette glanced at Lila out of the corner of her eye, chatting with Rose about Kitty Section before typing a quick reply.

So it would seem.

*sigh here we go*

Tagging: @teresarosiadeviluke2112 @sam-spectra @posyfoot @captain-rice @aloeveraspeaks @somethingelsefine @crazylittlemunchkin @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @rlv29 @kaleigh-girlonfire @kokoa-vb @fanwarrior-at-your-service @liebredavinci @starberry-mina @dalandana @rose-sparks13 @foreverblindedbystars @a-6-yearold-inside @redheadeddemon16 @deerestaurelia @graduatedmelon @janaikam @zatanni @shamefulllove @lunar-wolf-warrior @french-dog-joke @magnitude101999 @pinkittwice @musicallylara @summersprit-sims @timelinegodabandoned @patronusxcharms @azureocean33 @zazzlejazzle

#miraculous ladybug #ml spoilers #marinette dupain-cheng #ml salt #cat writes #my writing #kewk

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novannna · 4 years ago

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Write Our Story in the Stars

Chapter 3

so for school we did nanowrimo and i actually like the story I wrote so i’m posting it to tumblr :)

This story is about a girl and a princess who grow up together, closer than sisters. The girl wants only to be the princess’s guard so they can stay together forever. When she gets a chance to prove herself worthy to be the princess’s sole protector, she jumps on the oppurtunity. She and the princess leave on a journey to find a stolen treasure. While on the journey, the girl finds out a dark secret about her past….(cliche, ik)

Link to previous chapter here

Wc 2820

The girl made her way back to the princess, thoughts clouding her mind. Countless feelings raged inside her, but one was more vibrant than the rest.

Anger.

Pure, undiluted rage. It filled her up, heating her body and turning her vision red.

But part of her was still trying to make her see the whole story. The king had a country to run, he could not afford to lose a powerful weapon. But he also did not punish the man who had killed her mother. He had denied them asylum. He had sent her to live with a family who hated her, and never spared her another thought until she turned up on their doorstep, dragged in from the cold by their own daughter.

No, the king deserved every inch of her anger. But did the princess?

This was what the girl grappled as she trekked back to the camp, and later as she stared up at the night sky. Did the princess deserve her betrayal. She had no part in any of it. She had only ever helped the girl.

But she also cast her shadow over the girl. It was hard to never see the light. And the princess took it all in. Not intentionally, but she still did. And it hurt like hell.

Maybe the princess should fall. Maybe not.

Or maybe, the girl should burn the whole kingdom down.

Chapter 3

Talia blinked sleepily, and stretched her arms over her head.

“Morning sleepyhead,” Mallory laughed. She wore a wide smile.

“Morning,” she yawned back. “Why are you so cheerful?”

“Today is the day! The day I deliver you to the jewel of Asno, and earn my place at your side.”

“Hm.” Talia rubbed her eyes. “Is that really today?”

“It sure is,” the captain butted in. “The king only learned of its location recently, when a group of merchants reported strange happenings around a mountain. We knew it was hidden somewhere around here, but not where.”

Mallory snarled to herself. But she kept her smile firmly fixed on her face. “So how did the jewel end up all the way over here?”

“About twenty years ago, a couple broke into the royal vault. They stole the jewel and were going to sell it to our kingdoms rivals.”

“And what happened to them?” Mallory pressed.

The captain shifted uncomfortably. “They were sent to prison, and died a few years later.”

Mallory’s vision turned bright red. She felt every part of her body light up. He lied. He had the nerve to sit in front of her, and lie about her parent’s fate. He had no reason to lie, it changed nothing. But he still did.

“Ah,” she said, keeping the quiver of rage out of her voice. “We should get going. The sooner we get there, the better.”

Talia slowly rose. “Sounds good,” she said while rubbing her eyes. “Brr. It’s cold.”

“Is it?” Mallory barely felt anything over the insane temperature inside her.

“So,” Talia turned to the captain. “What does the Jewel do?”

“We don’t know,” he replied.

“How’s that possible?” Mallory asked.

He shrugged. “We’ve never been desperate enough to use it. It’s power is enormous. No one would use it without considering the great destruction it would cause.”

“So what’s the point of getting it if we’ll never use it?”

“It’s better safe in our vaults, then out in the world where anyone could get a hold of it.

Mallory almost scoffed. Safe in their vault. Only a fool would believe that it was safe in the possession of the king. “Why can only a member of the royal family hold it?” she asked instead.

“They are the only people whose blood is strong enough to survive it. Their ancestor carved the jewel from stone themself, and in doing so exposed themselves to the stone's power. It drove them mad, but it was enough to build a resistance to the jewel’s influence.”

Before Mallory could respond, they heard the clattering sound of a horse's hooves.

Mallory reached out, and yanked Talia behind her. She drew her sword and sank into a defensive crouch. The captain did the same. The hoofbeats stopped, and it sounded as if someone jumped to the ground. They waited, barely daring to breath.

A body stepped into their campsite. Mallory charged forwards and swept her leg out, connecting solidly to their knee. They fell down to the ground with an oomph. She tapped her sword against the person’s heart.

“One move and I’ll…” the words died out in her throat. “Aram?” She asked, astonished. The youngest member of the guard sat in front of her, cringing up at her. “WHat the hell are you doing here?”

“I was sent by the king,” he said in a quivering voice. “Asnon is under attack. Monopya is attacking us, and we need your help.”

“We’ll never make it in time,” the captain muttered. “Not all of us.”

“captain, you go back and command our troops. Me and Mal will go on to get the jewel. We’ll bring it back to save our home.” Talia lay her hand on The captain’s arm. “It’s our only chance.”

“But- I can’t leave you…” he started.

Mallory forced a smile onto her face. “I’ll protect her. Don’t worry.”

The captain paused for a moment before nodding. “Fine. Hurry. We don’t have much time.” He looked at his things, then shook his head. “It’ll be better to travel light. If we go with only the bare bones, then we’ll be able to make the journey in three days.” He headed to his horse, and began to untie her.

“Wait!” Talia said. She threw herself into his arms. “Be safe. And save my home.”

The captain straightened and saluted. “I’ll do my best princess.” He jumped onto his horse and led her to the road. “Aram, we don’t have any time to waste!”

“Right!” Aram hurried after him. “Good luck Princess!” He called out.

“You too,” Talia called back to him.

The horses galloped away, leaving a cloud of dust behind.

“Tal, we need to get to the jewel,” Mallory prompted.

“Right.” Mallory could see a glimmer of tears in her eyes, but Talia walked over to her horse. “We’ll leave right away. My father needs us.”

Mallory held an arm out to the princess. She accepted it, and Mallory lifted her up into her horse’s saddle.

Mallory hopped into her own horse's saddle. “If we leave now, we should get there by noon.”

“Then we have no time to waste.” The Princess jerked the reins and her horse started forwards. Mallory glanced one last time at the camp. She could make the faint outline of the old well through the trees. She bowed her head one last time to the memory, and then continued after the princess.

---

They arrived at the mountain after a few hours of riding. The giant black rock stretched up above them, and a huge gaping hole stretched out.

Mallory took in a deep breath and hopped off her horse. She tied it to a nearby tree, and did the same for Talia’s.

“This is it,” Talia breathed. She stared up at the towering cliff, an emotion Mallory couldn’t identify in her eyes.

“Are you scared?” Mallory asked.

“A little,” Talia admitted.

Mallory grabbed her hands. “Hey. We’ll get through this. Together.”

“Promise?” Talia’s wide brown eyes glanced fearfully up at Mallory’s.

And it broke her heart to answer, “I promise.” She pulled Talia tight against her, hugging her for what may be the last time. Their breathing slowed and matched together. “Whatever happens I’ll be with you. I’ll be by your side forever.”

Talia nodded gratefully. “I don’t know where I’d be without you.” Her soft lips curled into a smile, and she squeezed Mallory’s hands tight. They stood there for a second, leaning into eachother’s warmth. Oh how Mallory would miss this. How she would miss this girl. She could not imagine life without her. But she also wanted a life out of the shadow. And she would not ever forgive her father, and anyone who he loved or loved him.

But Mallory shoved those thoughts out of her mind. She focused only on the pleasantness of this moment. She focused on this girl she loved so much.

Her sister in every way but blood.

And all the dark thoughts were banished to the far corners of her mind where they lay waiting for Mallory to leave Talia’s tight embrace.

And even though she wanted to freeze this moment in time forever, she could not. And it was pointless to drag the pain out.

So she pulled away from her friend.

“No point in wasting time. Let’s go save our home,” she said with a tight smile.

Talia nodded. She took in a deep shuddering breath. “Let’s go.”

She squared her shoulders and faced the cave. She held out her hand to Mallory, and they entered the cave together.

---

The darkness seemed to swallow them up. Mallory knelt and lit a dry stick in fire. The weak light showed a split in the rock, each heading down.

“Your journey Mal. Which way?” Talia asked.

Mallory shrugged. “To the left I guess?”

“Left it is.” Talia marched forwards, into the left tunnel.

Mallory shook her head, and followed after her.

“Do you think Asnon is okay?” Talia asked fearfully after ten minutes of walking.

Mallory tried not to groan. Let the country burn to the ground. They all deserved it. “I’m sure they are fine. And we can’t do anything anyways. It’s better to not worry about it.”

“I know, I know. It’s just...what if they are all dead?”

“Talia, you can’t change anything. It’s pointless to worry.” Mallory squeezed her hand reassuredly.

Talia nodded, unconvinced. “So… this is it.”

Mallory groaned. “Talia what is it?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just trying to fill the silence.”

“No. I know you. What’s bothering you?” Mallory asked. “Your dad? Asnon? Monopya?”

Talia shook her head. “None of those. I’m fine.” She continued forward, head high.

Mallory spotted the trap a moment before it was too late.

“Talia!” She screamed, as she lunged forward. She barreled into the princess, knocking her to the floor just as a row of spikes shot out inches above their heads.

Mallory lay breathless on top of Talia, her heart still racing. They both lay there for a second, gasping for air.

“Dont, ever do that again,” Mallory finally breathed out, her short hair brushing against Talia’s lips. She sat up, and sagged backwards. Her heartbeat started to return to its normal rhythm.

Talia nodded shakily. “No problem.”

Mallory examined the spikes. “We’ll need to be careful. Whoever hid the jewel didn’t want anyone to find it. This is just the beginning. It’ll only get worse.”

And it did. It got so much worse. They had a near-death experience every few feet. But Mallory navigated them through it all. She led them through spikes and pits and sudden falls.

And, eventually, they reached the end.

The end of the path ended with a simple narrow doorway.

After everything, it felt a little anticlimactic.

Mallory trailed her hand along the rough rock. She could almost feel the phantom presence of her family watching over her, snarling at the princess.

She was leading the princess to the thing her parents had died to keep hidden. But it did not matter now. It was too late for second guesses.

So she turned to the princess again, waiting for her orders.

“We’re here,” Mallory said, gesturing to the small doorway.

“How can you tell?”

“Can’t you feel it? In the air, in the walls, in my bones. It feels right.”

Talia considered it for a moment. “I guess?”

“You ready?” Mallory asked, already stepping towards the doorway.

“Not really.” Talia still stepped forward. Each step was timid and slow. She was scared. Paralyzed with fear.

But, nevertheless, she stepped through the doorway, and into the room.

And fell to her knees with a small gasp and expression of rapture.

And when Mallory followed, she could tell why.

The jewel pulsed in the center of the room, held up by nothing but air.

It’s aura of power reached out and stuck Mallory in the gut. It didn’t hurt. Just felt powerful.

It was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. The swirling colors never settled. It was a milky white, with an iridescent sheen, and it seems like faint patches of every color swirled around.

Talia pushed herself to her feet, and held out a hand to Mallory.

Mallory ignored it, and rose to her feet on her own.

Talia sighed and faced Mallory.

“I lied to you,” she said softly. “I am so scared right now.”

“It’s okay. Asnon will get through. No matter what happens.”

“No, no. It’s not that that I'm scared of.” Shame flooded her face. “I should be but, I’m scared for myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just… what the captain said about the jewel, it seemed like holding it might kill me. Or drive me mad. Or have something really bad happen to me. But I have to get it back home.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “What if I die? What if it kills me?”

Mallory’s face softened. “You have no idea what will happen. Don’t jump to conclusions. Besides, you have royal blood. You’ll be fine.”

“But what if I’m not worthy enough? What if I’m nothing, and it kills me? What if I lose you forever?” Tears and snot dripped down her face now.

“You're not worthy,” Mallory said simply. “No one is. But, if you asked me, you're the best person I know. And if anyone could survive it, it’d be you.”

Talia nodded and wiped her face off with her hands, smearing grime everywhere. “Thank you Mal.”

“So, princess. Are you ready to save your home?”

“No, but I don’t think I’ll ever be.” She straightened, and pulled her shoulders back. “If for some reason something happens, it wasn’t your fault. You did the best you could, and I don’t want that weight on your shoulders.”

“Talia…” Mallory tried to smile, but she could not make her face cooperate.

Talia tried to smile as well, but it came out as more of a grimace. “I love you so much Mallory. And I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together. You will always be the best friend I can ask for.”

She struggled to inch closer to the jewel. Mallory followed, and winced as wave after wave of pure power crashed into her. She didn’t understand how her parents had carried it all the way here. It rang in her head, making her dizzy, but she still struggled after the princess.

“Almost there,” Talia grunted. She was indeed only a few feet from the jewel. Mallory called out, “wait tal. Don’t go on your own.” She panted, and then jogged forwards, head bowed against the rising pressure. “I… have to.. Take care of... you.” She gasped.

Talia didn’t say anything, but she did stop. She held her hand out for Mallory, and Mallory clutched it quickly. She hauled herself forward.

They both stood there gasping for breath.

“We’ll be able to get there together easier,” Mallory said.

“Together then?” Talia held out her hand.

Mallory hesitated, then slipped her own hand into it. “Together.”

The two of them stepped together, legs moving in sync. They slowly made progress, until they stood in front of the pulsating jewel.

“This is it.” Talia stood tall, nothing but power in her stance. But her eyes betrayed how she was feeling.

“This is it,” Mallory echoed.

The pure energy from the jewel was even worse now. It felt like it was burying Mallory into the ground. But she refused to relent. She was the only one in charge of her body, and she would not let some stone defeat it.

“I don’t think I can handle it. I can barely stand next to it, let alone hold it.”

“You have to.”

“I know.” Talia glanced fearfully at Mallory, then cupped her hands together. “So this is the end.”

“Me and you.”

“You and me.”

“Together till the end.” Mallory smiled tightly.

Talia placed her small cupped hands underneath the stone.

It was all it took.

A wave of pure energy exploded from the stone. It washed over them, bathing them in the power. They struggled to stay upright. It went as quickly as it came.

And the stone dropped.

Right into Talia’s waiting hands.

No.

Not Talia’s.

Mallory did not even realize she was moving as she watched the jewel drop.

Her body moved on its own accord.

She snatched the jewel out of the air.

Right before it hit Talia’s fingers.

And Mallory smiled as she felt the warm stone in her hand.

And then… she fell apart.

#write our story in the stars #my ocs #talia #mallory #im sorry for the cliffhanger

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iloveboeufbourguignon · 6 years ago

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About mercredi 21:05

I'm actually quite confused about the new clip. Lucas taking a test was predictable and I have nothing against that. But the way he does it is kinda weird to me. Like we had all agreed on the fact that Lucas was more at ease with his sexuality than the previous Isaks. And by the way David answers to questions about his caracters, we know for sure that he knows them really well. And if we have seen something, he has without a doubt seen it too. So the way he just goes "toujours le sexe opposé" is kinda contradictory to me I guess (even tho he stared at "souvent le sexe opposé")

Edit: thanks to the explanations of @smile-mf @irrelevaant and @thegirlnooneknows5 I now get why Lucas lied during that test. He does not have a problem with homosexuality nor does he has one with flirting with another guy. He does have quite a hard time admitting it to himself because everyone expects him to be straight, it would be easier to be straight. And after this had been point out to me I realize it's the way I acted with my asexuality for quite a time. Thanks to them, I am now less confused about the clip (but more and more scared about the comment and the Arthur theories omg I still don't think he will makes a homophobic comment -even if I start to think that he will do kind a "banalized homophobia" comment-... gods, tumblr is making me go crazy) and I still think that that comment will help Lucas understand his behavior toward girls.

Then, I don't think the comment on that forum was there to encourage Lucas to be an asshole (it would made me very sad, but also I really didn't see it like that). For me it was to help him understand his behavior toward girls. First, there was the whole Sara's debacle. And then, every party is a new girl, he changes often so they don't get attached and he doesn't have to do the do, he just make out (for what I remember). When the comment is talking about being with prudes only: it echoes with how he ran away from Chloé as soon as she got more intimate. At first he is clearly into it at least he's telling himself that and once she started to open his shirt he took the first opportunity he had to jump out of a freaking window. Then she started talking to him at school and he is clearly uncomfortable with it. He tried to ignore her. I mean the boys wouldn't have been with him when she invited him over Friday night he would have made up an excuse and you can fight me on that. So he clearly doesn't want to get to intimate, physically and mentally, with a girl.

What I mean is that I don't think Lucas will act like the comment said. Like maybe he will make out with Chloé once more. And maybe it's at this moment that he will understand that it's just a way for him to run away from his sexuality.

Or maybe he will not do it. He will understand when Eliott gives him is scarf back pleaaase Eliott.

But that sigh at the end, was, for me, clearly him doubting everything. But not in a please-Lucas-don't-be-gay way.

Futhermore, he knows Alexia is bi, she also mentionned homosexuality and he didn't flinch to that. He is not homophobic. He doesn't seem like he has some internalized homophobia, well the comment about bisexuality was uncalled for, but he just doesn't know anything about the subject. And seriously, the first thing he did when he started questionning his sexuality is installing Mika's gay chat. That boy already knows it deep down.

So yeah I just don't get how this will all turn out cause it just doesn't really made sense to me.

I can't wait to see what's next nonetheless.

Also sorry this post is a mess and my English isn't that good but I really wanted to share my views about this clip, cause I haven't see anyone yet interpretating it the way I did sooo.

#skamfrance #skamfr #skam france #skamfrs3 #skamfr s3 #lucas lallement #what the hell is happening #cant wait to see more #eliott please just show up #with an edit #my poor baby is so confused and scared

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watchtoomuchtv · 6 years ago

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A MARVELous Christmas - Part 1

Pairing: Mystery Avenger x Reader

Warnings: none for this chapter

Summary: In the lead up to Christmas y/n is made aware of a secret admirer. Can she work out who the mystery avenger is in time for one important dance at Stark’s annual Christmas Eve party?

Word Count: 899 (a little short but this chapter is really just setting the scene)

A/N: Hope you like! Let me know who you think the secret admirer is and your thoughts on the chapter! This is my first time posting one of my fics to Tumblr but I was just so excited about this idea and Christmas so wanted to share :)

PART 2 I PART 3

As you sat in your bed, pen and notebook in hand, there was only one thing you were sure of. And that was that you were confused. You fiddled with your hair you’d placed back into a messy bun as you tried to remember exactly what had happened the night before. Cursing yourself for drinking so much.

- - -

The previous night.

You had all sat down to unwind together in the common room. These nights were your favourite. When everybody was able to relax and enjoy eachothers company. You even got to know your teammates even better. Despite already knowing Nat and Clint from your early days at SHIELD, you learnt more and more after moving into the tower. And still being reasonably new you enjoyed getting to know the other avengers a bit more than the rumours and gossip you had heard.

Surrounded by discarded bottles you loved seeing the group together laughing in their comfy clothes. To be fair you loved seeing them in their tactical outfits as well. But the way everybody sat, like they didn’t have a care in the world, it was just relaxing and comforting and you couldn’t get enough. The fairy lights you had insisted on hanging all over the tower twinkled above your head and illuminated everybody’s happy faces. Bucky was in track pants and a singlet showing off his gorgeous metal arm, Clint rested on the coffee table, despite the amount of times Tony had complained to him about ruining the furniture. Steve had his relaxed lopsided smile and sparkling eyes. Wanda and Vision were cosing up to one another, you couldn’t help but smile and how love sick the two were.

The night had lead into a game, like usual. Tonight’s game? Two truths, one lie. Meaning Vision was only here to keep Wanda company, he wasn’t allowed to play the game because he ruined it with science talk and algorithms on the probability of each answer being correct or not. Whilst Tony, of course was using it to brag. He leant back in the armchair he sat in as he said “I own 5 separate private islands, once I took my private jet to Italy just because I was craving authentic Italian pasta and ahhhh I own 3 cats.” Tony hates cats.

Nobody even humoured Tony with a guess before Nat piped in saying “They are supposed to be Christmas related Tony.” with an eye roll, “but we get it, you’re rich. Okay y/n’s turn.” she perked up and topped up your drink. No wonder you’d gotten so damn drunk.

“Ummmm” you say, forgetting that you’d had so much time to figure out what you were going to say.

“Get on with it!” Sam heckled from your left.

“Alright, okay, I always wanted a dog for Christmas but never got one, one Christmas I broke my wrist trying to put the star on top of the tree and my favourite Christmas gift was a small wooden music box.”

Nat gave you a knowing smirk and you realised you’d already complained to her about the dog you’d never gotten for Christmas. “Nat can’t guess!” you quickly added.

Bucky’s piercing blue eyes met yours, studying you. “Okay, I reckon the music box, too specific. Classic technique to cover lies” he crossed his arms over his chest and smiled knowingly.

You returned his stance with your own knowing smile, “truth. It played Silent Night and I cried for weeks when it broke, I’ve never been able to find another one like it either.” the smile slightly disappearing from your face. When you looked up you saw a sparkle behind Steve’s eyes as he opened his mouth but before he could speak Clint blurted “The dog! You’ve had a dog.”

You shook your head looking over at him, “I never got one for Christmas, I only had the one dog but my parents had him before I was born. The most gorgeous German Shepherd.”

“She hasn’t ever broken a bone let alone her wrist boys, do you not hear her bragging about it every second mission?” Nat said picking herself up from the ground where she was sat, “okay well I’m off to bed now, have fun.” with a wink she left the room. This made Wanda and Vision call it a night too. Just as you started to get up nursing your drink and trying to steady yourself against the couch armrest Tony excitedly shouted “oh oh oh! I got a good one!” making you stop in the doorway of the room, turning around slightly. “And it’s Christmas related. Before anyone interjects.” Tony said with a pointed expression to you. Arching your eyebrow you encouraged him to continue.

“One of the boys in this room has had a major crush on you since I think he first saw you, I’ve had enough of him pining over you in silence and if you figure it out by our annual Christmas Eve party and dance with him when I play Silent Night, he will most definitely owe me one.”

“Oh whoops, I forgot to add a lie.” He fained ignorance with a cheeky smirk.

“Tony that’s like a week away. Don’t be ridiculous I’m not playing your game.”

“Y/n you’re one of the greatest spies in the world and you’re telling me you can’t figure this out?”

With a surge of your competitiveness coming out you challenge Tony, “maybe I just won’t dance with anyone.”

He gave a huff and said “we all know you aren’t going to do that.”

- - -

Today

That is all you could remember. You wish with absolutely every fibre in your body you could remember what the boys faces looked like when Tony had made that accusation. Cursing Nat for filling up your drink every time it came near to empty you let out a sigh. Because here you sat. In your messy bed. With a notebook in front of you with the names; Sam, Bucky, Clint and Steve written down. How were you going to figure this one out?

Well you were a spy. So it was time to crack the case.

To be continued...

#marvel #fan fic #fanfic #marvelfanfic #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x reader #clint barton x reader #steve rogers x reader #captain america #bucky barnes #winter soldier #a MARVElous Christmas

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theteablogger · 6 years ago

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Thanfictioning is Returnofthenecromommycon / Necromommycon / Carlanime

After I posted my first response to Thanfictioning, I googled the blog name last night. The only two results were my blog and a Dreamwidth community where Necromommycon had posted her Sluagh read-through. That was odd.

(Incidentally, I have no reason to believe that the sole other member of that community had anything to do with any of this.)

I read back through everything Thanfictioning had posted up to that point. There were several lines that reminded me very much of things Necromommycon had said before, including that Thanfictioning had done a couple of things in the past that made them look bad in ways similar to Andy (see her tf-talk comments on channeling: 1 | 2). Thanfictioning used a tag she had used a number of times. On the other hand, the story of how Thanfictioning first attempted to reach Andy and finally made contact with him didn’t seem to correspond to her story of being unexpectedly PMed after she commented on CFC’s “other side of the wank” LJ post. Finally, given our interactions and her history (corresponding with Turimel, sharing Andy’s messages full of lies about mental illness and Brittany, being empathetic toward Abbey and other previous associates of Andy’s, writing commentary on some of his posts) I could not imagine her minimizing and misrepresenting Andy’s abusive actions as Thanfictioning had done. This made me suspect that Andy or one of his friends (probably at his behest) was trying to stir shit up and mislead me and other bloggers/anons into believing that Thanfictioning was Necromommycon.

I didn’t think it could actually be her. Neither did Abbey or another anon, when I talked about it with each of them separately. I had had enough positive interactions with Necromommycon that I trusted her. That trust was enough for me to vouch for her publicly when an anon expressed concern about her still being friends with Andy. Fuck, three years ago, Necromommycon offered to send money to help with my wedding, a gesture so kind and so unexpected that it almost moved me to tears (which is an extremely rare occurrence). Abbey and I were even more convinced of her innocence when we saw the post denying that Andy was a rapist: Necromommycon did not seem at all like the kind of person who would be so cruel to a rape survivor.

I decided that now was not the time to call anyone out for impersonating Necromommycon, although that really seemed to be what was happening. Watching and waiting seemed like the best course of action.

Instead, I started a response to the rape apologism post. When I’d just about finished, I finally thought, “Fuck it. She needs to know what’s happening before someone else puts the pieces together and confronts her.” So I sent Necromommycon a PM on Tumblr chat and an ask. I knew she wouldn’t be able to prove that she wasn’t Thanfictioning (you can’t prove a negative), but I wanted to be able to say that I’d confirmed it wasn’t her, and I was willing to take her word for it.

Unfortunately, this was the response I received:

Today at 6:14 PM

returnofthenecromommycon

I'm sorry to tell you this, but it was me. Last summer when I was at the cabin, Andy had me convinced that [a nightmarish thing related to being trans had happened to him years ago, and he was struggling with severe psychological problems]. I wrote four posts in total, intending them only to be read by two specific friends of mine, one of whom had the sense to tell me that I could ask Abbey if [the nightmarish thing had really happened]. She confirmed that hadn't happened.I then deleted the posts, or so I thought, from the cabin--and thought no more about it until someone informed me it had been mentioned on tf-talk. The posts were originally password protected, and I had never intended them for public view. I just needed the two people most able to tell me if I was being realistic to now everything I was thinking, so I spewed it all out in four posts. I reposted the Diamond one this morning, since it briefly seemed more honest to make it all public than to just screen it and walk away, but then I saw that would only make things even worse and deleted it. You can quote as much of this as is helpful, but please keep the [redacted information] private (Abbey can confirm that I asked about [the nightmarish thing], I guess, but it's not a detail I want shared at large).

I was utterly gobsmacked, horrified, and furious. After thinking about it for a few minutes, I decided that I still needed to post my response to the rape apologism, because any number of people might have seen it before the Tumblr was deleted. I also replied to Necromommycon as follows:

I don't even know where to begin, but I guess I'll start with the dates on those posts. The first one was dated July 19, 2018. The "Andy isn't dangerous" one was dated Oct 26, 2018, just a week before it was linked in tf-talk. And the post about Diamond mentions my list of reasons why people think Andy is dangerous, which only went up on Oct 22, so you couldn't have written all of that over the summer. And even if you did...are you saying that during the summer, while you were calling out Chris for rape apologism and posting screenshots of him saying it was wrong to accuse Andy of rape, before ANY posts were made in the Thanfictioning tumblr, you didn't think Andy was a rapist?

She has not responded to that message.

It appears that all that time that Necromommycon was expressing empathy toward Abbey, she may have privately believed that Abbey was “lying or exaggerating” about a lot of things. Despite her calling out Chris over the summer for saying it was wrong to call Andy a rapist, she herself did not believe he was a rapist. She posted records of Chris’s rape apologism, but subsequently attempted to discredit Diamond. Over a period of years, she engaged in discussion with me and other Andy awareness bloggers, reblogging many of our posts and adding her own commentary, all while she apparently thought that I/we ought to be subject to legal action for things we were saying about Andy.

Some people will doubtless characterize this as a blow to the credibility of all Andy awareness bloggers and anon communities. It isn’t. The only person who looks bad here is Necromommycon. I have no reason to doubt the veracity of the emails and messages from Andy that she’s shared in the past, especially since Andy and CFC have indicated that they’re real, so there is no reason to remove them from the timeline. I see no reason to regret or second-guess anything that I said in my two responses to her Thanfictioning posts.

One of my favorite quotations, which I have on a little pewter keychain clipped to my bag, is, “Every murderer is probably somebody’s old friend.” (Agatha Christie, The Mysterious Affair at Styles) It means a lot of things to me, but one of the most important is that when the evidence suggests that someone we like and trust has done something wrong, we should not immediately assume that they’re innocent. We should continue to gather evidence and explore the possibilities, bearing in mind that the truth may be something that makes us uncomfortable. I’m generally good at acting on that principle, but in this case, I clearly was not.

#thanfictioning #returnofthenecromommycon #andy blake defense squad

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glitterrhowell · 6 years ago

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Chapter 6

Title: Colors in Disguise

Pairing: Daniel Howell & AmazingPhil (Phan

Word count: 1000 words

Warning/Genre: eating disorder / food addiction / implied self harm / Anorexia /BED/ Binge Eating Disorder

Summary: Dan Howell has struggled with Binge Eating Disorder and food addiction his entire life but after he met Phil, he went into remission. After several years, Dan relapses and he slowly starts spiraling out of control yet again. Will he be able to get the help he needs, or will he fall victim to its vicious cycle?

Read on Ao3

Read on Wattpad

Previous chapter / Next chapter

Chapter Master list

Dan had been keeping good on his promise to himself he hadn’t been eating as much and he had gotten a handle on his snacking in general. In fact, he didn’t eat much these days. He spent most of his time in bed sleeping. He hadn't posted a video in over three months and with the gaming channel on hiatus people were starting to notice his lack of content but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d occasionally tweet something to let everyone know he was still alive but other than that he was pretty silent on the internet. Phil had been a saint taking care of him and taking care of their business stuff, he’d taken on the full workload. He hated doing it to him but he couldn’t help it he was terrified of going out of control again like the weekend he had when Phil had left so he hardly eat but that didn’t mean he didn’t think about food. So to keep his mind off the food he slept. Sleep was the only thing that kept the thoughts away and the only thing recently.

It was one of those rare days he did manage to pull himself out of bed. He made his way to the lounge. Spotting Phil sitting on the sofa he decided to plop down next to him.

“Hi, love!” Phil said turning his attention away from his laptop. “It’s good to see you out of bed.” He said smiling brightly.

It hurt Dan's heart how happy Phil looked.

“Yeah, I’m feeling a little better.” he lied.

“That’s good!”

Phil look so genuinely relieved and happy Dan wonders how long he had been worried about him.

~~~

The next few days Dan tried his hardest to stay out of bed and act as normal as possible. He helped out around the flat cleaning up and they watched some animes together and all and all Dan did enjoy himself but that hungry in the back of his mind was still there.

Dan currently sat in his sofa crease browsing Tumblr on his laptop trying to ignore the constant rumbling of his stomach.

“Hey, I’m going out to meet Martyn and Cornelia for lunch,” Phil said walking into the lounge.

“Oh ok,” he said trying to hide the hurt of not being invited from his voice. But just seconds later his stomach gave a loud grumble and he was now thankful he hadn’t been invited.

“I’ll be home in a few hours alright love,” Phil said planting a kiss on his forehead.

“Alright,” he mumbled.

“Maybe we can have a movie night tonight when I get home?” Phil asked almost hopefully.

Dan perked up at the idea, “Yeah that sounds really nice.”

“Ok then while I’m gone can you answer some of the emails we have? They’ve been piling up and really need answering.“ Phil chuckled.

“Consider it done,” Dan said, with excitement in his voice.

“Alright love you,” Phil said before turning and leaving.

“Love you too,” Dan called after him.

~~~~

After Phil left Dan procrastinated doing what Phil had asked of him but how many emails could there be to answer anyway. So about an hour after Phil left he decided he should probably get to it but first he had to use the bathroom.

When he stood up he felt like he was going to be sick and he would have run for the bathroom if it wasn’t for the fact that he felt extremely dizzy and lightheaded as well. He rocked back and forth on his feet trying to regain his balance and wait for the room to stop spinning but that didn’t happen instead everything just went black.

~~~~~

“Phil, are you sure your alright?” Martyn asked him for probably the tenth time.

“I’m fine I’ve just haven’t been sleeping all that well.” he lied.

Well technically it wasn’t a lie, he hadn’t been sleeping well because he had been worried about Dan. Dan had been sleeping a lot recently and Phil worried he was going through a really bad rough spot. And he didn’t know how to help. The only thing he could do was keep working, so he continued to make videos made sure both their shops had merchandise and all their business stuff was up to date. But he hated to admit it but it had become quite a bit taking all that on himself. It seemed like all he ever did was work and worry about Dan the last few weeks and it was really taking a toll on him, which is why when Martyn had invited him out for lunch he had accepted almost instantly.

“Earth to Phil.”

Phil was snapped out of his thoughts as his brother waved a hand in front of his face.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

They continued their lunch avoiding the topic altogether.

~~~~~~

The flat was quit when Phil got home, he set his keys down on the counter and walked into the lounge. Dan was curled up on the sofa snoring softly. The sight would have been precious if Phil hadn’t been so concerned with him sleeping so much lately.

“Dan. Dan wake up.” Phil softly shook his shoulder.

“Wat?” he slurred still half asleep.

“You fell asleep on the sofa, come on let's get you to bed.”

Phil helped the younger man up and helped him walk to the bedroom. Phil stripped him of all his clothes except his boxers and put him to bed. He pulled the covers up to Dans chin and bent down giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek before walking out of the dark room.

~~~~~~~~

Dan woke a few hours later he rolled over trying to remember how he had gotten to bed in the first place. But his thoughts were interrupted by a hushed voice coming from the next room. Curious he tiptoed out of the room and down the hall the office where the voice was coming from. The door was shut but inside he could hear Phil talking in a hushed voice.

“I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Silence; he must be on the phone.

“Mum I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Dan’s heart sank in his chest not staying to hear the rest of the conversation he turned around and left.

Once back in the bedroom he paced back and forth. This was it wasn't it Phil was going to finally leave him. After all these years he’d finally realized what a fuck up he was.

He threw on some clothes and grabbed his keys and left the flat not even stopping to tell Phil he was leaving.

Not even knowing where he was going he just walked he probably walked for hours because by the time he finally stopped it was pitch black outside and hardly anyone on the streets. He looked around; he had no idea where he was.

His he was so weak from hunger that he was surprised when his stomach rumbled,

“Oh fuck off, will you,” he mumbled to himself.

He shivered realizing now that he hadn’t grabbed a jacket before he’d left.

He looked around hoping to find a place he could go in and warm up at when he spotted this small 24-hour diner across the street. Just a coffee he promised himself crossing the street.

The bell chimed when he opened the door and nice older lady behind the counter motioned around and said, “Sit anywhere you like love.”

“Thanks,” he said as he chose a both close to the back of the restaurant.

The restaurant was deserted except for him so it didn’t take more than a minute for the women to come up to him with a menu, “Would you like to hear the specials?”

“No thank you, just coffee please.” he smiled.

He stomach growled embarrassingly loud.

“Are you sure there love?” she chuckled.

What the hell Phil was leaving him anyway. He took the menu from her and ordered the first thing he saw. A burger with a side of chips.

“I’ll be back out with your coffee.” she smiled and took his order back to the chef.

His hands shook with anticipation he hadn’t had any proper food in probably three days.

After about a fifteen minute wait for the waitresses brought over his food and set it down in front of him.

“If you need anything else just let me know dear,” she said walking off.

Dan was literally drooling it looked and smelled so delicious.

The first bit could be described as heavenly, the flow of the juices mixing together in his mouth and all the different flavors were absolutely divine. But after that first bite, he didn’t taste much of anything else as he scarfed down the rest of it in several big bits. Next were the chips, those were harder to eat all at once since there were many but somehow he managed. And before he knew what he was doing he had the waitress back over ordering more food.

He left the diner over two hours later in shame having consumed two more burgers and three pieces of pie all by himself. He had been absolutely horrified when he’d come out of his binge haze. Stuffed to the brim with plates spread out all around him on the table. Luckily the waitress hadn’t said anything to him, she’s made some joke that he must have been hungry but Dan had seen in her eyes that she had been disgusted with him. And who wouldn’t be, who eats that amount of food in one sitting its gross he thought to himself.

Dan was so ashamed and disgusted with himself he couldn’t face going home yet, besides he wasn’t sure if there was going to be anything to go home to. He started walking again slower this time because he was uncomfortably full when he came upon another little restaurant. It was like his brain was going crazy, he wasn’t physically hungry but he craved that feeling he felt when he eats. The way his brain would completely fog over forgetting about all his problems, just the pure happiness it made him feel. Without even second-guessing himself he went into the restaurant.

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bluerighthand · 6 years ago

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Growing Up A Shelby - Chapter 3: 1901

Previous Chapters: one two three /?

Chapter Summary: Ada starts school, Tommy thinks about girls…and boys, and a furry friend is introduced to the family (much to Polly’s distress).

This chapter is basically a load of domestic things strung together. Fluff, family shenanigans, minimal angst (but there is a whole storm of angst heading your way).

Notes: Due to recent events I’m taking a break from tumblr/the internet, but here’s me resurfacing to post a new chapter and add more stuff to my queue. I’m really sorry for the wait, but I hope you enjoy <3

Words: 5,654

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15542805/chapters/38607311

Warnings: homophobia, brief mentions of death, gun violence and child abuse

“Oh, will you sit still” Polly groaned, smacking the back of John’s head. He stopped wriggling, for a grand total of five seconds, before resuming his task of trying to kick Arthur under the kitchen table. “John. I will shave your head right off I swear to God” said Polly, attempting to guide the razor across the back of his head.

“I am sitting still!” he protested, bringing his feet behind the chair legs to prove his innocence. Arthur’s legs could still reach however, and he waited until Polly was deep in concentration before sending a hard kick to John’s shin. At his cry, Polly slammed the razor down onto the table.

“Out” she said, pointing Arthur towards the door. She didn’t want to actually cut anyone, despite them both driving her absolutely mad. “Acting like a bloody child”.

“That’s a bad word” John informed her. Not as bad as the ones she wanted to use. Arthur took his time, dragging his feet along the floor and ‘accidentally’ knocking John’s arm on the way out.

She needed wine. And whiskey. In the same glass.

Ten minutes later, John’s hair was done. He scurried off immediately, leaving Polly’s warning about kicking his brother hanging in the kitchen. Cleaning the razor, she called for Tommy, but there was no answer. The imminent return to school (signified by the fresh haircut) must have him up to his neck in summer homework, she thought optimistically. Who was she kidding…

Cutting Tommy’s hair in the past had been a long and arduous task. It was easier now he was older, but he still hadn’t fully recovered his dignity from the baldness incident of 1896, and was therefore extremely cautious when it came to having his head shaved.

She entered the boys’ room to see Tommy leaning out of the window, arms resting on the sill. Thin wisps of smoke curled above his head, and Polly shivered, the autumn air from outside chilling the room.

“Thomas” she said warningly. He jumped, quickly flinging his cigarette down onto the street below, and spinning round. She glared at him in frustration. “Where do you keep getting those from?”. He shrugged, but at least had the decency to look sheepish under her gaze.

“It’s bloody freezing” said Polly, tugging the window down and flicking the latch. “Let’s get your hair sorted and you can go and play”. Tommy followed her out of the room.

“I’m too old for playing” he lied, eyes falling on his wooden horses on the landing even as he spoke. Polly shook her head, remembering a time when nothing could prise Tommy away from his toys. She’d seen the way he stared at older gangs on the streets, his natural curiosity pulling him into something that was very hard to get out of. She pushed the thought away. Tommy was only eleven for God’s sake, he had years before his father’s devilment emerged.

Haircut done and school bag packed for the following day, Tommy returned to his spot on the window sill. Arthur was on the street below, and having tired of annoying John, was throwing a deflated ball up for Tommy to catch. Arthur didn’t play with him as much as he used to, so Tommy was happy to join in, missing the hours they used to spend dreaming up worlds together. Tommy was the first to see Ada and Uncle Charlie heading down the lane, and he waved, grinning as Ada held her new school bag aloft. She spent the rest of the evening buckling and unbuckling the thing in excitement, and hardly slept a wink that night. Tommy didn’t have the heart to tell her school wasn’t nearly as fantastical as she was imagining.

The morning arrived, bright and chilly, and the family gathered in the kitchen for breakfast.

“Our Ada, all grown up” said Arthur, holding Ada’s hand as she twirled, crumpled pinafore fanning out. Not quite a ball gown, but it could have been for the way everyone cheered.

“And you’re going to be in my class Ada!” John cried.

“God help their poor teacher” said Polly under her breath. Tommy laughed, pulling on his jacket. After Polly had extracted three cuddly toys and a plate from Ada’s bag, they left the house, Arthur and Polly waving them off at the door. Arthur had finished school in the summer, and now worked in Charlie’s yard, chopping wood, hammering nails, fixing things. He was good at all that stuff. He wasn’t paid much, but earning three pennies a week was a lot more than others his age were doing for their families.

Polly was ecstatic either way, as Arthur’s income enabled her to quit her cleaning job in the evenings, and enrol in an accountancy class at a night school across town. The first class wasn't for a month or two, but she was already beside herself with excitement. Finally, finally, her life was starting. She was slightly apprehensive about leaving the kids on a regular basis; who knows what trouble they’d get up to, but she’d given Arthur a nice long talk about responsibility, some of which had hopefully stuck.

Jane was there of course, but she’d spent the vast majority of the past few months’ asleep upstairs, which unfortunately Polly didn’t see changing anytime soon. At least there was an adult in the home, in case Arthur decided his friends were more important than babysitting.

Ada kept up a constant stream of chatter on the way to school, about exactly what she should learn and exactly how it should be taught to her. Tommy tried to cut in with some brotherly advice; listen, do your homework, don’t punch anyone with these surnames or I’ll be the one to get it in the neck etc., which was naturally ignored. It would be okay though. Ada could look out for herself, and already had a mean right hook on her if anyone got nasty, much to Polly’s delight and their mother’s horror.

By the time they arrived, the yard was bustling with kids, and Tommy quickly lost sight of his siblings as John pulled Ada off towards the schoolhouse. Spying Freddie and Danny amongst their classmates, he elbowed his way through the crowd to reach them.

“Alright Tommy” greeted Freddie, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “You’ll never guess what Danny’s got”. Tommy looked to Danny, who grinned widely as he pulled him close to whisper in his ear.

“No way” Tommy said when he pulled back, in an equally hushed tone.

“Found it in me dad’s coat last night. He’s gonna sort that Whitton out I reckon” said Danny.

“Or that mad horse of yours” said Freddie, laughing at his friends’ matching frowns.

“Jus’ cause you don’t even have a horse” said Danny.

“When can we see it?” asked Tommy eagerly. Guns were not uncommon in Small Heath, far from it in fact, but he’d never actually held one, never fired one. Blades were far easier to steal, so staring at the outline of his father’s gun through his jacket was the closest he’d got thus far. Arthur Snr had never let his gun out of his sight, even when he was drunk, and Polly used to joke that it was the only thing he could be relied upon for. He’d taken Arthur out shooting once, to Tommy’s jealousy, but his rather graphic descriptions of what he’d do to anyone who stole his gun was enough to put Tommy off.

Danny’s dad was as forgetful as anything, much like his son, making this gun a far easier target.

Before they could make plans however, the bell rang, and the boys reluctantly made their way towards the extension. This building, made for the older kids, was far more makeshift and patchwork than the main schoolhouse, and Tommy wasn’t looking forward to their winter classes. Other than that, things were looking up if Arthur’s time in the top class was anything to go by.

He’d hardly turned up for one thing, and whenever he caused trouble a sweet smile was enough for Mrs Changretta to look the other way. Unfortunately, school restructuring meant that Tommy missed out on Mrs Changretta altogether, and instead ended up with a rather frail looking elderly man called Mr Pearson.

He seemed to live in a constant state of exhaustion, and also looked partially sighted, meaning Tommy was looking forward to bunking off without Pearson even noticing his absence. After ten minutes of silent work only disturbed by the whizz of paper balls Billy was lobbing at the back of Tommy’s head, Pearson went so still in his chair that they all began to speculate whether he was still breathing or not.

Turns out, he was, and Tommy let his daydreams carry him off for the rest of the morning rather than listen to any more drivel about algebra. Lunchtime rolled around, and he, Danny and Freddie entertained themselves by acting out what would likely happen to poor Whitton at the hands of Mr Owens’ gun.

It was strange to see Ada running around the yard. She’d never liked being left behind while her brothers went off to school. And now here she was with them, wearing an oversized pinafore that used to be Polly’s, a wide gap toothed smile on her face and her freshly cut bob dancing around her shoulders. She bounded up to Tommy a few minutes later, holding hands with another girl, and Tommy just managed to catch that her name was Jessie before the two ran off again.

After school, Danny’s mother was waiting by the gates, Danny turning back to shrug apologetically at his friends as he was pulled away. Tommy and Freddie glanced at each other uneasily. They decided to go the pasture that afternoon, instead of playing in the streets…not that they were scared or anything. And if they walked John and Ada home first, nobody had to know.

An hour later, Tommy and Freddie were stretched out on their backs in the field, horses galloping around the paddock nearby as clouds meandered across the sky. It was almost too cold for this now, and Tommy wanted to be outdoors as much as possible before he was forced into Arthur’s old winter coat every time he left the house, which was too thin to keep him from the chill, and merely stopped the free feel of the breeze against his skin.

“Do you like anyone?” asked Freddie. The question came out of the blue, they’d been discussing Danny’s father a second ago, and Tommy turned his head to look at Freddie, his profile clear against the sky.

“I’m not that cold am I?”.

“Not like that” Freddie laughed. “I mean a girl. Do you like any girls?”. Tommy had known what he’d meant. All he heard from Arthur these days was ‘girl talk’, when he wasn’t ignoring him in favour of Irene, or Erin, or…who was it now?

“Do you?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah” said Freddie sadly, “but she doesn’t like me back”.

“How do you know?” said Tommy, propping himself up on an elbow. He didn’t like the sound of this. It was the first he’d heard about it, and he and Freddie told each other everything, didn’t they? Freddie turned his head away before he spoke.

“Because she likes you Tommy” he said, the intonation giving away his annoyance. Tommy frowned, before sitting up fully.

“Is it Greta?” he asked. She was the only girl who ever played with him, other than Ada of course. She was funny, smart, and pretty too. Freddie nodded, not moving from his spot on the grass. “Freddie” groaned Tommy, poking his friend in the shoulder. “She probably only likes me cause I’m the only boy that talks to her”. Freddie shrugged.

“Are you going to kiss her?” he asked.

“What? No!” cried Tommy, realising too late that his reaction was far more opinionated than Freddie was expecting. “I mean” he tried again, “she’d like you much more if you only tried speaking to her instead of putting worms in her desk”.

“Hey” protested Freddie, “how was I to know Billy had moved seats while I was ill?”. They laughed for a while at the memory, before Freddie spoke again.

“I’d like to kiss her”. Tommy felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. Maybe he was getting ill. But as his eyes flicked down to Freddie’s lips as he smiled, Tommy wondered if there was another reason his insides were full of butterflies.

He’d pondered this matter rather a lot lately.

The first thing he’d heard about homosexuals had been from his father. They’d been walking home from the boxing ring a few years ago, Arthur Snr having had one too many whiskeys, and come across two young men in an alleyway shortcut to Watery Lane. One was leaning against the wall, whilst the other rested his hand on the bricks behind his head, leaning in close. They were just laughing and talking, and Tommy wouldn’t have given it a moment’s thought if his father hadn’t stopped dead in the street, turning down the alley.

The men were already long gone by the time his father had staggered to their spot, but he spent the rest of the trip home muttering about them, and it was the most Tommy had ever heard him speak of the Bible. He’d been too young to understand it then, but now?

He sighed.

He probably didn’t need to worry much about what his father thought anyway. They’d only seen him once since their disastrous trip to London, when he’d turned up one weekend at the boxing ring. He’d bullied Arthur into fighting him, and then left whilst his son was still bleeding on the ground. He hadn’t even gone to see their mother, nor Polly.

Tommy had been close to confronting him, but Arthur wouldn’t let him, holding firmly onto his wrist as blood dripped down his chin. Tommy thought about him sometimes, wondered where he was, but was nevertheless glad to have him out of the way.

The walk home was quiet, both Tommy and Freddie lost in thought. A dark raincloud had settled over Small Heath, and didn’t let up for weeks, sending everyone into an irritable mood. Danny’s father had died in hospital, from multiple gunshot wounds. Of course Tommy knew guns could kill; that was the point of them, but…weren’t they only supposed to kill bad people? The hero never died in his storybooks. Maybe Mr Owens had been a villain after all.

The approach of Christmas and the school holidays cheered everyone up a bit, as did Danny’s return to school at the end of November.

Tommy also had a new hobby; dancing. Smoking around the back of the town hall at night had become something of a habit. It was quiet, as quiet as you could get in Small Heath, as the majority of the pubs and gambling dens were on the opposite side of the town. Tommy liked to lean against the brick wall and smoke, gazing up at the night sky. In the summer, they opened the windows, and Tommy could hear violins and cellos and countless other instruments from within, tapping his foot along with the rhythm.

Freddie often accompanied him, but Tommy wasn’t sure how he felt about Freddie these days. It was nice to spend the evening alone sometimes, away from his siblings and friends. Tommy had wandered across to the hall, hoping to hear the music, but the chill of autumn had been supplanted by a bitterly cold winter, and the windows remained firmly shut. He shivered, regretting this decision somewhat as he saw a mother and son cross the street ahead of him, both decked out in thick fluffy coats and scarves. Night had fallen, and he could feel his fingertips going numb as he deliberated what to do.

The large clock on the building opposite chimed nine, and Tommy made his decision, slipping in behind an elderly couple entering the hall. He ducked behind a column, watching people in their fineries enter the main auditorium. There was a door on the right, marked with that tempting ‘Do not enter, staff only’ sign and when there was a lull in arrivals Tommy crossed the empty hallway and pulled open the door to reveal a staircase.

Pleasantly surprised it wasn’t just a cupboard, or something equally boring, he climbed the stairs to the top. Judging by the amount of dust on the handle, nobody had been up here for a long time. Tommy blew the cloud of fluff away, pushing open the door to reveal the loft. Boxes littered the floor, the sad remains of bent flutes and snapped violin strings poking out. There was a dusty old gramophone, and a few cracked records strewn about the place, but other than that it was all beams and lead pipes and spider’s webs.

The building was old, and the boards creaked dangerously under Tommy’s feet as he made his way across the attic. The screws in the floorboards looked loose and rusty, and Tommy could see gaps where they’d fallen away up ahead, providing chinks of light where the missing tiles in the ceiling offered only black.

Not stopping to consider the fact that this could be a very bad idea, Tommy continued walking, swinging around a beam and crouching down at its base. Through a small gap, he could see the orchestra far below, a few metres ahead. The rows of seats to the side of the dancefloor were mostly full, and Tommy was surprised to see what he assumed were people of standing in the audience. Small Heath wasn’t exactly known as a cultural centre.

He moved further into the room, and decided a stronger looking horizontal beam would be a good place to sit and listen to the music. He clung to a dusty pipe for support, swinging his legs across and pushing himself up onto the beam.

It wasn’t the most comfortable; in order to balance himself he had to twist around awkwardly to grab the post behind him, but when the music started up again and he caught glimpses of the dancers swirling below him, it was worth it.

The sound here was much better than from outside, and the protection of the mostly formed roof prevented the bite of that chilling cold that numbed his fingers and wound its way down to his bones. He swung his feet in time to the music, the thrill of being somewhere he definitely shouldn’t and nobody knowing it putting a giddy smile on his face.

“What are you doing?” came a voice. Tommy started, craning his neck to see a girl standing in the doorway. She was dressed well, too well to be a Small Heath kid, buttoned into a crisp white blouse and a navy petticoat. The long blond hair trailing down to her waist made her look like the princess in Ada’s storybook.

“The door was open” she said. Shit. “It’s staff only, so I thought I should take a look”.

“You’re staff?” said Tommy, disbelievingly. She had to be at least three years younger than he was.

“My mum’s performing” she said proudly. “I can go where I want”.

“What does she play?” asked Tommy, peeking back through the gap in the floor, relieving the strain on his neck.

“Don’t you think we should talk about this after I’ve rescued you?” she said, exasperated. Tommy squawked indignantly.

“I don’t need rescuing!” he insisted, trying to look relaxed in his precarious position. The girl looked at him expectantly. Right, of course. Time to get back without falling through the floor. Tommy scanned the area, noting the spots he’d used to get here, and the surrounding beams. It suddenly looked a lot more complicated than it had ten minutes ago. Steeling himself, and slightly annoyed that this girl had interrupted a perfectly enjoyable evening, he slid off the beam and began to make his way back across the floor. The girl was shifting nervously, and brought a hand up to bite at her nails when a board gave a particularly loud creak.

“Not there!” she cried suddenly, and Tommy flung an arm out to stop himself instinctively, glaring at her.

“You’re not helping” he said. She fell silent for a moment, watching him right himself and manoeuvre around a couple more beams.

“I’m Grace, by the way”. Tommy didn’t answer, more focused on removing his foot from a floorboard that looked as if it had mere moments before it snapped. “What’s your name?”. Tommy jumped, swinging from an overhead pipe for a second, which protested loudly at his weight, and landed in front of Grace. He did a mock bow, and she laughed.

“Tommy”. A smile.

“Your clothes are filthy” she said, gesturing to his dusty attire.

“Yours aren’t, rich girl”. Brushing himself down, he leant against the doorframe. She held out her hand.

“Do you want to dance?”. Tommy was slightly taken aback by this.

“I don’t know how” he said after a moment.

“I’ll teach you. It’s easy, come on!”.

“Which one’s your mum?” asked Tommy, once Grace had pulled him through the hall, on the right floor this time, and up to the stage.

“The singer, right at the front” said Grace, beaming. “We’re staying in hotels and travelling around England so she can perform. Isn’t she brilliant? They say I could be a singer myself someday”.

“I’d like to see that” said Tommy.

“Come on, let’s dance” she said, pulling him into the crowd. Tommy was stiff and self-conscious at first, treading on Grace’s feet and glancing around the room for any familiar faces. Grace laughed when they stumbled, but not in a cruel way, and Tommy soon found himself smiling and pulled into the rhythm of the music. By the time the orchestra took a break, Grace had taught Tommy some basic steps, and they twirled amongst the other dancers for an hour or so until they collapsed, exhausted, into chairs next to the stage. Grace’s mum came down from the platform to greet them, eyes widening as she glanced at her watch.

“Say goodbye, Grace” her mother instructed, glancing at Tommy distractedly, and waving over a friend to take Grace back to the room.

“There’s another concert next Friday” she said, “this is our last stop before we go back to Ireland. Would you like to come?”. They made plans, and Tommy waved goodbye and slipped out of the door before Grace’s mother could ask any questions.

His walk home turned into a run in an attempt to warm his blood, but his fingers were still shaking by the time he slid his key into the door. Polly had finally been persuaded to get him one cut after she’d found him half way up the house, clinging to several knotted sheets at three am, Arthur half hanging out of the window in an attempt to pull him up. Avoiding the creaky stair, he crept past Polly’s door and into his room.

John was fast asleep under the covers, but Arthur wasn’t home. It wasn’t uncommon these days for him to be gone, but Tommy usually lay awake until he heard his brother’s footsteps on the landing, or the rustle of the sheets as he slid into bed. He didn’t come back at all that night. Tommy caught a few winks of sleep, but woke whilst the sky was still dark, watching the street from his window until the orange sunrise dragged itself wearily over Small Heath, the dark clouds finally dissipating.

Arthur turned up around lunchtime, mostly sober, and Polly, having had quite enough of the lot of them pressed a few pennies into their hands for the fair. Charlie came round in the afternoon to visit his sister, and enjoy a hot cup tea away from the yard.

Polly took advantage of his visit, enacting her plans to rearrange the sleeping arrangements in the house without the hindrance of her nephews and niece. The boys were getting far too old to be cramped up in one room together. In the past year, Arthur had started growing at a slightly alarming rate, much to Tommy’s distress. He could wear his father’s old clothing now, which was useful, but his long limbs were also causing some problems. He'd been shaken awake by an indignant Tommy on more than one occasion, having accidentally smacked him as he rolled over in bed.

But Tommy’s nighttime wanderings and susceptibility to nightmares made it clear he still needed his older brother. However much he’d deny it. John, although small, was extremely messy, and seemed to relocate every single toy in the house to their bedroom floor on a regular basis, which infuriated his brothers to no end. Despite John and Ada bickering at least five times a day, they were inseparable, and so close in age it only made sense for them to share a room.

Polly felt no remorse in chucking out her brother’s old boxes of files, endless sheets of paper and grand business plans, which took up an entire room on the landing. Who the hell needed two offices? Especially if they were never even home to use them?

Curly was called in from the stables to help, and soon John’s bed was squeezed through the doorway and moved into the now clean and empty room down the hall. Ada’s new bed, courtesy of Charlie, followed, and Polly inwardly cheered about having her own space back after four years of sharing with the youngest Shelby. Jane managed to make it downstairs to see the new arrangement, and say a sentimental goodbye to the Shelby cot.

“I remember putting little Arthur in here” she said, running her hand across the wood. Polly smiled at the memory. She was only seven at the time, and was beyond excited to have a baby to look after.

“I reached through and he gripped onto my finger” said Polly fondly. Little teeth marks, John’s handiwork, covered the posts, and Polly had an exasperated smile on her face as she observed the marks where Tommy had actually removed two of the posts and wiggled out. She’d found the empty cot and loose posts on the floor the next morning, and was in complete panic until she found him curled up on the floor under Jane’s bed. God knows how he’d done it.

“I’ll keep it out the back” said Charlie, “then you can have it again if you need it”. He quietened, a deep crease in his forehead.

“We won’t need it” said Polly, firmly.

Jane nodded sadly, before giving Polly a teasing smile.

“Maybe for children of your own, ey Pol?”.

“Give over” she laughed. She’d had quite enough of putting children before her career for the time being. But…maybe one day they’d use the cot again.

The boys’ room looked huge without John’s bed, and they spread out Arthur and Tommy’s, Charlie surprising Polly later that afternoon by delivering a small desk he’d been working on. It slid neatly between the beds, making the room look cosy and far more practical than before.

It was a far cry from a few winters past, where the cold had been so bad, and the price of wood so high, they’d chopped up the beds to burn in the fireplace. They spared the cot; John was only a baby, and Jane’s bed, but the boys and Polly were on mattresses until the following summer. She’d tried to make it fun, like a camping game, but the novelty wore off after a few nights. Even when they had beds again, Tommy would wake up in a cold sweat more often than not, thinking he could feel bugs crawling over his skin.

Later that evening, Polly glanced over her library books one last time. It had been hard to remind her brain how to do calculations after such a long time, but she felt more confident now she’d got some practice in. She couldn’t believe it was finally happening. Practically jumping with excitement, Polly entered the kitchen to grab her bag, stopping in her tracks at the scene within.

The entire floor was covered in hay. Her first thought was that Tommy had brought one of the horses into the house again, but this time the culprits were Ada and John. They were sprawled in the middle of the floor, heads together, giggling at something Polly couldn’t see. Their heads snapped up when she coughed pointedly, gesturing at the mess.

Curled up in Ada’s lap, was a small shivering rabbit. It was white in places, but its paws and sides were a dirty grey, the fur matted and unkempt.

“Ada” Polly said calmly. “Why is there a rabbit in our kitchen?”.

“Because she’s cold”.

“It’s a boy” said John.

“Is not” retorted Ada, cuddling the animal close. To its credit, it didn’t seem to mind. Any other being that could tolerate the Shelby children should be given a medal in her view. That being said, it was still a dirty rabbit, and it was still in her kitchen.

“I don’t care if it’s cold, put it back where you found it. And look at the mess you’ve made” said Polly, moving some hay out of her path with her shoe.

“Aunt Pol, you just destroyed the turret” whined John.

“Turret?”

“We made her a castle to live in” said Ada. “Out of hay”.

“For God’s sake! Get it out, now”.

“No!” Ada cried, “we found her all alone outside, she doesn’t want to go back out there”. Polly pinched the bridge of her nose. She didn’t have time for this. And she would not have her good mood ruined a by a bloody rabbit.

“Ada Jane Shelby, you listen to me. If that rabbit is still in this house when I get home tonight, you’ll not sit down for a week”. Ada glared right back, and would have likely folded her arms if they weren’t full of fluff. John leaned over, holding something orange out to the creature. It sniffed the air, nose twitching, before tucking in.

“That’s not the carrot I bought from the market today is it?” Polly asked in a low voice. John shook his head, the lie written all over his face.

Slamming the door, Polly marched down the lane. Let Arthur deal with the bloody thing, just think about the class, she told herself. Despite her anger about the mess and the wasted food, she was still excited. It was quite a trek to the school, but Polly supposed accountants in training didn’t want drunkards bursting in on them halfway through a lesson. She arrived right on time, and swiftly closed the door on the frigid air she’d left behind.

By the time the lecturer arrived, there were around twenty students, most of whom had clearly travelled from out of town. She was the only girl, which she had been expecting, but it still sent a shiver of unease down her spine as the men turned to stare at her. No worries, she calmed herself, it would only take one woman to put this lot to shame. Deliberately busying herself with her books, she avoided their gazes and glanced over the course overview once again, trying to concentrate. Bloody rabbit. Arthur had better get rid of it.

“Something troubling you?”.

Polly started slightly, and looked to her left. A man had slid into the seat next to her, leaning on the desk as he smiled. His eyes were a deep blue-green colour, and his dark hair was styled upwards, a few strands falling around his face.

“Just- just a rabbit” she said. He laughed, and Polly faced the front quickly as the tutor called for their attention. If this stupidly attractive boy made her mince her words, she’d have nothing to do with him. She’d learnt that lesson four years ago.

The class was just as she’d hoped. She couldn’t quite process that she was actually here, and the life she’d dreamed up for herself when she was just thirteen was finally starting. Polly was pretty sure she spent the entire two hours with a deranged smile on her face, but she didn’t care. She caught the man’s eye from time to time when he smiled at her, and became more confident, even leaning over at one point and correcting a mistake he’d made. She wasn’t sure how he’d react and could imagine the earful she’d get from her brother if she did such a thing to him, but the man just nodded and listened, eager to learn. She liked that.

The class ended far too soon, but Polly packed up quickly, thoughts of what the kids could be getting up to in her absence taking precedence. She paused near the door, glancing back at the man she’d sat beside. He was engaged in conversation with some friends, and Polly smiled before ducking out of the room.

She was already anticipating the following week, planning to get some practice at the harder problems before the next class. She made it halfway down the dark street, before she heard loud footsteps behind her, instinctively reaching for the pocketknife hidden within her coat. Spinning around, the man from the class had caught up with her. At her expression, he waved his hands in apology.

“I didn’t mean to alarm you” he said, “I just-”

“I should be going” said Polly reluctantly, thinking of the children.

“Stay” he said, reaching for her hand, “have a drink with me. If not tonight, perhaps some other time?”. She bit her lip, enjoying the feeling of his fingers intertwining with hers. Should she go for this?

“I don’t even know your name” she said.

“Edward” he replied, kissing her hand. “Edward Gray”.

#my writing #growing up a shelby #guas au #peaky blinders fanfiction

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stopforamoment · 6 years ago

Text

Before the School Year Starts: Bucket List (4 of 4)

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three)

Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OFC Rinda Parks

Word Count: 1,372

Rating: M for Language

Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this.

This is just a little story arc to tie up some loose ends from the weekend and give some more background info. This takes place Sunday night, after Bastien’s nap. The school year starts on Tuesday, September 11th.

Summary: This is basically a bunch of drabbles that wrap up the final loose ends of that weekend.

Rinda had left a note in the car for Bastien, but he waited until he got back to the palace before reading it.

Bastien,

I know you get embarrassed when I gush about thanking you, but unless you start being an absolute jerk, you have to deal with it. Thank you for the entire weekend. Thank you for giving us the tour of the palace and showing me the library—even though that made your weekend an absolute nightmare. Thank you for introducing us to Drake and for taking the time to play football with Henry and take him for ice cream. Thank you for the spumoni and for taking us downtown and ordering for me when I was overwhelmed with options. Thank you for showing us the secret garden and playing tag in the maze. Thank you for taking care of my foot when I was a klutz and stepped on a rock. Thank you taking us fishing and for checking on me after I got done swimming. Thank you for letting me share food with you when we were eating lunch. Thank you for letting me help you this weekend and thank you for trusting me enough to let me drive so you could get some sleep. Thank you for dealing with my rambles and being there for me with . . . everything.

Rinda

. . . . .

It was late, but Bastien was still going through information with Mara. “Bastien, I reviewed Rinda’s archive searches from this weekend and her previous visits. She’s . . . it’s amazing how thorough she is. And she goes down some rabbit holes with her searches--” Mara had a grin on her face. She knew enough about Rinda to imagine her geeking out and getting sidetracked with a new piece of information to explore. “But she was spot on with what she found. And didn’t find.” Mara was referring to the missing items on the list Rinda gave Bastien. “So, she asked about the Code Locusta? I’m amazed there’s a record of that anywhere.” Bastien nodded. “I didn’t tell her, but she already figured out it’s something with poison. And besides, the official story is that the Queen was poisoned, so it makes sense.” He paused. “Rinda’s going to be busy with teaching and everything with the safety reform. And Henry. But she’s good at this and I know we can trust her. You know she must be used to confidentially being married to Jameson. I mean, a police officer.” Mara raised an eyebrow but said nothing. “I think we consider asking her for help. I know she’s worried about security for the children when the king and queen visit, and she’s the type of person who needs to do something to help.” Mara nodded in agreement.

“Mara, why did you tell Rinda that she should call you if I’m working too much or being a pain in her ass?” Mara looked in shock and then started laughing. “Bastien, I gave her my number in case there was a security emergency and you weren’t available, or to contact me if she found other research. Really? Do you think I would tell her to call me if you were being ‘a pain in the ass’? That’s a 24/7 hotline.”

Bastien blushed. Rinda lied to him so he’d get some sleep, and it didn’t even occur to him to call her bluff. Mara chuckled. “Actually, I think that is a good idea. Dealing with you? That woman is going to need all the help she can get. I’m also working on giving her official clearance to drive the palace vehicles at any time. I can’t believe you were going to drive with only two hours of sleep in 48 hours instead of letting someone else drive her home.” Mara got out her phone and messaged Rinda, much to Bastien’s chagrin.

. . . . .

When Bastien got back to his room he grabbed Rinda’s gift, her copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth, off his dresser. She mentioned that she sometimes left notes in books. Did she do that in this book?

He flipped through the pages and smiled when he saw the piece of paper.

Bastien Lykel’s Bucket List

√ 1. Climb a volcano

He got into bed, thinking about his bucket list. There were things that he wanted to do when he had free time . . . when he retired . . . but not an actual list. Suddenly he got up and grabbed the shirt he wore earlier that day. It still smelled like lavender.

Sleeping naked. It was the stupidest thing, but he always needed to fall asleep partially dressed in case there was an emergency. Even when Rinda screamed this weekend he was barefoot and scrambling to put on a shirt, desperate to reach her and contain the situation in time. Sleeping naked was so liberating, but he hadn’t felt comfortable enough to do that in . . . he didn’t know how long.

What else?

It was 2:00 AM. He had to be up in three hours. Fuck it. He took off his lounge pants and boxers. But just in case, he moved a chair close to his bed and draped them across, easy to grab. He laid on top of his bed, fully stretched out. The air was cool against his skin. God this feels good.

Suddenly he grabbed his phone to message Rinda. Shit, be sure it’s just a message. No accidental dick pics!

What’s on your bucket list?

Bastien was surprised to see the dots moving. She was still up?

Well, being there to see Henry grow up, maybe be a grandma when he’s a lot older. But stuff just for me?

Yes. And how is the sleepover going? Why are you still up?

If you thought I’d be sleeping why did you message me? Oh, and speaking of, I got an interesting message from Mara.

Yeah, I was just tired. Otherwise I would have seen through your deception. So how was the sleepover?

Some of the kids are still up. Henry and Phillip, of course. And some of the older ones. But we’ve threatened them enough that they should at least stay in their tents now.

So . . . bucket list?

Hmm. Dance the tango outside in some awesome city outside of the U.S. Like, how there are street dancers in South America and stuff.

What else? You should have at least five things.

What about you?

Climbing a volcano. Your turn.

You did that already. Doesn’t count. For me, see the Northern Lights in Iceland. Go to Scotland and walk across a moor when the heather is in bloom. Sorry, a part of me is still bummed that didn’t work out. Finish seeing all of the states in the United States. Seven more to go. Haven’t done Hawai’i. Could climb a volcano there LOL.

Go to Japan and have an amazing sushi dinner. I guess it’s mostly traveling and experiencing new things. Otherwise the bigger picture of figuring out what the hell I’m doing with the rest of my life.

Your turn.

Hmm. It’s classified.

Liar. I want that list filled out before Drake replaces you. It’s your homework, okay?

Yes, Mrs. Parks.

. . . . .

The boys finally fell asleep and Rinda was able to crawl into bed and get snuggled in. Mmm. It smelled like Bastien. Rinda remembered when she needed to sleep with Jameson’s shirt. She tried putting his body spray on her pillow to remind her of him. But it was never the same. There was something about a person’s scent. Something that was more than the body spray or cologne, or the laundry detergent or soap they used. It was all of that . . . and more. That was one of the reasons she always made sure her sheets had a fragrance. Lavender. Eucalyptus. Clean Linen-scent laundry detergent. It had to be some kind of substitute, so she could snuggle in and try to forget what she so desperately longed for.

Rinda hugged her pillow and breathed in Bastien’s scent.

God, I miss this.

#bastien lykel #choices trr #ofc rinda parks

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ask-de-writer · 7 years ago

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NORE’S CHOICE : Origin of the Rom: MLP Fan Fiction : (Part 4 of 10)

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~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

NORE’S CHOICE

Part ONE of the Origins of the Rom

ORIGIN OF THE ROM SERIES in reading order. (will be completed as the stories are posted in linked form)

Part One : NORE’S CHOICE, which starts HERE

Part Two : WELCOME TO EQUESTRIA! which starts HERE

Part Three : FAIR AND UN-FAIR, which starts HERE

Part Four : ON THE ROADS OF EQUESTRIA, which starts HERE

Part Five : THE FIRST ROM HEARTHWARMING, which starts HERE

Part Six : SANDO’S LAKE, which starts HERE

Part Seven : A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE ROM, which starts HERE

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

29000 words

Cover art by @wind-the-mama-cat

Writing begun 08/09/15

TUMBLR EXEMPTION

Blog holding members of Tumblr.com may freely reblog this story provided that the title, author and copyright information remain intact, unaltered, and are displayed at the head of the story.

Fan art, stories, music, cosplay and other fan activity is actively encouraged.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

I put away the Orb of the Ages in its hidden place in time itself. Now there was nothing left to betray old Marchhare. I slept until somewhat before the dawn.

I pulled out of the abandoned farmstead and onto the Red Branch path. I eyed the ruts, assorted muddy spots, stray sticks that could nail a wheel’s spokes and wondered again why the locals and the engineers put up with this mess as the way to get to so important a project as the Red Branch Dam.

Chuckling to myself at my own witticism, I 'hauled ass’ up the way, passing the dam itself. I noted that it was nearly done. Only a little left at the north end. That, and needing to settle for almost a year to let its own mass pack it more solidly before risking the massive load of water that it was going to hold back. Water from it should open up an enormous amount of new farm land for feeding a hungry nation.

Past the dam, there was no real road at all. That made going difficult indeed. I thanked the mother of Celestia and Luna that I’d done it twice before this. Made it easier to pick my way through the thickets.

I appreciated the shade and coolness under the giant old trees here. These, I knew, were some of the biggest, oldest trees in Equestria. It took me two whole days, pulling some at night, too, to reach the divide.

From that vantage point, I could see through some of the much smaller trees of this side of the Sunset Range. Out there was bare rock, gravel, sand and clays. I could see the shimmer of the heat on the surface of the desert.

Celestia’s Anvil. Arguably the hottest driest desert on the world and it was what I had to go into. No profit this time.

I shook my head and muttered, “Lives are more important than gold.” I pulled forward and onto the downgrade. It was slow, tricky work to get that heavy cart load down safely to where the canyon floor widened out to a meadow with a spring flowing into a small pool, similar to several others that I’d passed.

What made this spring special was simple. It was the last water before the desert. I filled up all the water casks lining the sides of my wagon, easily increasing the load by a half. No help for it though. Not if I was going to try saving those horses.

And I was. I leaned into it and pulled.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Another utterly merciless day was paling the eastern sky, heralding a cloudless dawn. Nore woke and lifted her head to see about her. Rom was up. Maina and Phapa were up. Sando was up. She stirred and got her legs under her. Getting to her hooves was not as easy. Her left hind leg was still giving her trouble since the fall in that well. The tumble out on that loose gravel slope had not helped it.

To Nore’s surprise, it was Sando who helped her to her feet.

Sando offered, “If you will accept my help, Nore, I can show the others how to make you a harness that will support your leg. You will have to have support, though. I will do that while my strength lasts. If you will have me do it.”

She gave him a skeptical glance. “You seem far different from the Sando that we left behind.”

“I hope that I am. I understand, now that it is likely too late, how bad I was.” He shook his head, ears drooping. “If there is any way at all to make it up to all of you, I want to do it. I do not want to die reviled and hated.”

Nore’s eyes softened. “If you can show the others how to do that harness, Sando, I will let you support me. My leg hurts.”

Rom nodded to the others. Sarel brought up the rope. Sando began, “We need two loops about me here. Hard knot them so that the knots won’t slip …”

It took only a little time. Nore, with her limp, setting the pace, they started to struggle up the canyon to the slide that Sando found the day before.

Hooves slipped as gravel slithered away from under them. Sometimes it seemed that it took three strides up to gain one. Those were the good times. Frustrating efforts finally got them all to the top. The sun was not yet over the horizon of bleak stone and bare clay. They set out while the relative cool still prevailed.

If not for the same sun that was killing them, they could have lost their way entirely.

Rom observed, “The Dayhorse is leading us to the place where she wants us to die.” Drawing a big breath and letting it out slowly, he added, “Best not to disappoint her, I guess.”

They struggled on. Nore looked up at Sando in puzzlement. “Why would it matter if you were reviled or in comfort when you die, Sando? Is not dying simply an end? An end to suffering or an end to pleasure, but only that, an end?”

Rom turned an ear to hear Sando’s reply. So did most of the band, actually. Sando’s reply surprised them all.

“That is a very fatalistic view, Nore. If life is simply a space between not being and not being, then why struggle at all?

“Everything that lives strives to live on. An injured spider in the ruin of a web will still try to make another web and live on. So it is with us, too. Ask yourself why? Why struggle to live on if there is an end to struggles and pain within your easy reach. All that you have to do is give up.”

Nore did think deeply as she plodded along, making the best pace that she could. She realized suddenly that she was the injured spider, but, expecting to die herself, she was setting as swift a pace as she could, in the hope that the others would survive.

“Do you know what lies beyond this world, when we die, Sando?”

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

I came out of the canyon from the Sunset Range and began to follow my old tracks. Not a road by any stretch. Just the way with fewest traps for the unwary. My previous path avoided the sand and stuck to gravel and clay surfaces.

The wheels groaned and fought me, conspiring with the desert surface to hold back the wagon. I shook my head at the unforgiving gravels and baked clays, “I swear it was easier when I was not trying to save some poor horses.”

The harness bit harder through my sweat, as if to make up for the bugs that had, ages ago, abandoned Celestia’s Anvil. I muttered, “I don’t blame them, either! This is no place for a self respecting bug.”

I dragged and pulled anyway. “They are going to die if I don’t. They might die anyway, but at least I will have tried!”

The sun slammed down harder, I was sure. The Anvil was well named.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Sando thought over Nore’s question carefully and returned one of his own. “What do you think is there, Nore?”

“I don’t know. Until it started looking like I may find out soon, I really did not care.”

Sando nodded. “That is the way of most, Nore. I feel that there is a place that will reward us for the way that we use the Gift of Life. If we give it up or throw it away, well, I don’t know what might await us.

“If it is reward for carrying on and doing our best to the end of our lives, it must be a reward suited to horses like us.

“That would be a pleasant, lake of pure water that never fails. There would be trees that both shade us from the sun and heat of the day, and have good fruits that they bear in all seasons. There must be fine grass that grows always in plenty and soft, comfortable, safe places to sleep.”

“It sounds lovely, Sando. I wonder if there will be a Master there? The idea of having no Master frightens me. It is the worst part of this whole horrible time. We are cast out. We have no Master.” She shuddered to dry sobs and leaned a little harder on the harness of ropes. Sando, understanding too well what she felt, made no complaint, but bore her up more strongly.

The other mares of the trekking band did overhear. Dappled Sarel whispered to brown Phapa, “I never really thought about it before. My mother used to tell me tales of the Night Horse’s Garden of Dreams but even when I was small, I didn’t really believe them.

“What Sando just said actually made some sense. I need to think about it.”

Malit overheard and agreed, “Funny, isn’t it? We are out here, like to die, and along comes this amazing thought from somehorse that I would never have looked to say anything sensible.”

Rom nodded too. “I see some shade there by that rock outcrop. It won’t last but I want the rest of you to wait there. I will be looking ahead for a better shade to wait out the day.”

Sando said, “No, Rom. That should be my task. You are our leader. You are vital to the rest if they are to live at all. Let me scout the way.” He paused and then added, “Please.”

They watched Sando work his way up a hill to the south east of them. As he was scanning the route from his vantage point, Nore noticed how gaunt he was. Looking about, she sadly noticed that they all were. Shaking her head, she muttered, “Starvation does that.”

It was not long before Sando returned, his steps dragging. His sides heaving, he reported, “I found us a better place. The hill there, becomes a scarp facing south. There is one of these twisty canyons in it. We can have good shade for the rest of the day in there. Come, I will show you the way.”

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

The Orb was showing me the best way to reach the band of lost and cast off slaves. I grumbled at some of it. Wagons need ground that is sound enough that wheels do not sink too deeply into it and free enough of obstructions like big stones and heavy brush to allow passage.

As I detoured yet again through the desert night, I groused, “A straight way, please, Dear Luna!”

No answer but the return grumble of wheels on the small gravel that the wind left behind when it blew away the good soil. It was five days of grueling labor. I was pulling the last one in daylight. Time was running out.

The worst place that I was aware of was just past. No shade at all. I suspect that if I could die, I would have, back there.

The real chance for trouble lay not far ahead. Another narrow canyon led out of the side of a ridge of the same ghastly mix of hard clay and small lumpy stones that was such a nightmare to pull the wagon over. Up in there were the seven that I had come to try saving.

My big donkey ears could hear a little of their conversation. One that sounded to be the filly said, “Sando, I don’t think I can go further. My leg is healed. I can’t stand now at all. Tell me again of the Lake.”

A big soft voice answered her, “It has all good things for us. The best of browse to eat. Fruits born at all seasons from trees and bushes that give shade in perfect measure for us.

“A thing that I did forget to mention though. There are instruments there to play for music and dancing. We can dance, sing and play music whenever we wish.”

The filly’s voice answered, “I wish that the Master had not kept our lyres, flutes and drums. I want to hear music again before I go to the Lake.”

The one named Sando was replying, “We all do, Nore … I hear something out on the desert!! I am going to go see what it is!”

I made a show of passing to the south of where they were sheltering from the sun but where they had to see or hear me going by.

The big stallion came out of their shaded hideaway at the sound of my cart passing. He called out in a weak voice, “Sir! If you are this deep into the Anvil, you must have some water! Can you spare a tiny bit? We have a filly near to death.

“It is my fault that we are here. Save her, if none of the rest of us, please?”

I paused in heaving against the harness to move the cart across the heat shimmering stones of the desert floor. The gaze that I turned to him showed me a gaunt horse, fat gone, ribs standing out plainly, gut narrowed by starvation and thirst.

“I do have some water. How many of you are there? Have you any means to pay me for my water?”

His head had lifted until I mentioned payment. His neck drooped. The tips of his scraggly mane trailing in the dust. “There are seven of us. Two stallions, four mares and the filly. I fear that there will soon be none. We have no means to pay you.”

“Are you the band’s leader?”

“No, good donkey, Rom is our leader. He is wise. We are back in that steep sided canyon. There is shade there, at least.”

Curiously, I asked, “You called me Sir and good donkey. Why would you say that?”

He gave me a truly puzzled look. “You are Sir because you have not the headstall and bit of a slave. You are free. I said good donkey because I hoped that a respectable trader like yourself might help us to save our filly, Nore Bel Morin.”

I nodded. “I will shelter the balance of the day with you, if I am welcome to do so. I will spare some water for your filly.

“You must help me to find a safe way for my cart to get to where you are waiting the evening.”

“Sir, I shall. You will be welcome among us if you can aid Nore at all.”

True to his word, he helped me to get the cart safely to the canyon floor. It was not easy but we managed it.

I was greeted by Rom Ina Callin, the leader of the band. “Free Sir, would it be possible for you to spare anything at all for us? Nore is in the most desperate need. If you cannot help the rest of us, of your mercy, help her.”

I made a pretense of checking the filly out. I already knew, through the Orb, what her condition was like. The filly, Nore, was pretty bad off indeed. She was still conscious, able to swallow and speak though.

She gave me a trusting stare and asked, “Are you my guide to the Lake? Am I going to die?”

I replied, “Not yet, Nore. Perhaps later. Much later indeed, I hope. For now, I have some water and some grain. We will grind the grain into the water to give you both the drink and the nourishment that you need.”

Going to my cart, I saw that, though famished and thirsting near to death, none had touched it. I opened a chest of the grain and, true to my promise, ground a ration of it with water from a cask. One of the mares, a sorrel named Malit Ba Molin, took the ration and carefully fed Nore. She stole no bite for herself.

I nodded as I thought to myself. “These are indeed worth saving. They are the finest horses that I have ever seen. Better than almost any ponies, too.”

I beckoned both Rom and Sando over to me. In some perplexity, I asked, “What did Nore mean by 'guide to the Lake?’ Is it some sort of custom that I have not seen before?”

Sando hung his head and replied, “I spun her a tale to answer her question. She asked what lies beyond death here in this deadly desert.

“The others heard me too. It seems that she is clinging to that tale. I told her and the others that a paradise awaited us but not if we gave up. It is a wonderful Lake of pure water surrounded by the finest meadows of the best browse a horse could hope for. There is shade from the sun provided by trees that bear always the best and tastiest fruits. There we are free and labor only as we wish it, and not at the order of a Master.

“She seems to think that you are our guide to that better place.”

I nodded at that. “I see. I have only a few questions.

“Rom, do you know where you are in the Anvil of Celestia and do you know where you are going?”

Rom shook his head. “We were cast out and, at the end, driven into the desert. We had heard of you successfully crossing the Anvil and had no other hope but to reach the place that you came from. Beyond that, we know nothing of where we are or are going. I will not simply give up and die. I am doing the best that I can to save any of us at all.”

“I see. It is true that I am a merchant. It is also true that I have a heart. Life outweighs profit. I have tested you, though it may not have been obvious.

“I simply left the wagon with its supplies where you could all see it. None of you, though starving and suffering thirst, made any move to take any of the load.”

I sighed heavily, “I will forgo this trip’s profits to save you all if I can. Tadast’s Wells is the nearest Gyptian town and it is seven days of hard wagon pulling from here. My supplies cannot get you there.”

Sando hung his head and said, “We came from there. We were driven into the desert because we found a well with water and through my foolishness the watch found it out. They will get a handsome reward for it. To keep from sharing the reward, they will kill us.”

I shook my head sadly, “Such greed should not be. I can try to get you all back to my land. It will be a very close thing. Some may die before we get there. I hope not. It is five days from here, at least that is how long it took me to get here. I do not know how well the supplies will last.

“My land is a place called Equestria. There are ponies living there. They are smaller than you Gyptian horses. They come in three sorts. There are ones called Earth ponies. They are like you but smaller and stouter of build.

“Another sort are called Unicorns. They have a shortish horn in their forehead just above the eyes. They can do magics with that horn. Things can be lifted, held and moved by the power of their thoughts alone. Like the Earth Ponies, they are not large.

“The third sort are called Pegassi. They have wings and can fly. They are able to move clouds and bring controlled rains.

“All three sorts have many pastel colors for their coats and manes.

“I do not know how they will welcome you, but getting you to Equestria is the best that I can do for you.”

Rom nodded gratefully. “We will take our chances with your Equestrians. You mentioned using your caravan’s load of food and water for the trip?”

I said sourly, “My hope for a profit, yes. I said it before. Lives are more important than profit.”

Rom pointed out, “The food and water are still yours. Will you see to the rationing of them? We are all terribly hungry. I fear for fairness if any of us do it.”

I was about to answer when I felt a small muzzle touch my shoulder. It was Nore. She was staggering, but up. She spoke softly, “Sir Guide to the Lake, thank you. The mares said I should not be up yet but I wanted to say that.”

I put a hoof around her shoulders to steady her as I told her, “I hope that the Lake is far away for you. Live long. Be happy. Let Paradise come in its own good time.

“I need to distribute rations for these fine horses in Rom’s band. Will you help me?”

She gave me an adoring look and said, “I would be honored to help you, Sir.”

Malit, the sorrel mare who fed Nore, organized the others into a line to get both food and water. Sando and Rom had a disagreement about their place in the line. They both wanted to be last.

Sando whinnied, “It is my fault that we are here at all! I should be last to get food or water!”

Rom retorted, “It was my decision to let you back with us. As leader, it is my duty to see all others taken care of first! That is the burden of the leader.”

Nore, helping me to break open a wrapped bale of clover top hay, saw the argument and called out, “Let the Master decide! Marchhare is the only one of us who is a freeborn! The supplies are his!”

The others all stopped cold and turned expectant heads to me. I hope never to see that expression on the face of any horse or pony again. They had agreed instantly with Nore and were giving themselves to me. As slaves to a Master. ��Me.

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