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gracethefoundfamilyfan · 1 year ago

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ok i frickin love my found family lemme just say

first of all we all go to a baptist church and we call ourselves the jesus freaks after that DC Talk song even though we're all 12-19 (except for the Fathers who are some of our dads) and im making us all jesus freak shirts

second of all despite the baptist-ness we sound like a catholic something or other my dad is referred to as 'Father Louis' my "brother" is Brother George my 'sister' is Sister Abigail and there's also Sister Meredith and Sister Grace (me) and Father John (George's real life dad).

and the best part is we act like a family. Abigail and George and I are doubles in the same row in handbells choir and we smack each other and steal phones and all sorts of stuff. My 'nephew' (George's 'son') is a twelve year old little hispanic kid but his two real life brother's are my brothers not his don't ask me why but he and I are writing a play together because he asked me for help with the stage directions and Abigail helped him with his Etsy shop

and I'm the Grand Mother so i basically know/take care of everyone and everything and its literally the reason i live

George and I never talk over text except to send each other dog pictures at three in the morning (both kinds)

SIster Lily and i work at the same restaurant so sometimes they all come in and annoy the heck out of us

Any parent. and i mean ANY parent. (Like real life one). Is referred to as mom or dad. Period. I have fourteen or more moms. I love it.

We have a group bible study that gets heckin chaotic because everyone gets into debates

then there's brother caden who is a little ADHD preacher and also pole dances and he's the most horrible goofy kid ever but he also was the first one of us to lead a kid to christ and he prays like nobody's business

we all are helping each other discover our spiritual gifts (aka what we're best at that God wants us to use to further our group/the church in general's ministry to help people have a little bit better of a life here on earth)

we also protect each other

like david and i were arguing because we couldn't figure out which bells went in which case (we have three sets of eight octaves plus chimes and aluminums, screw it) and he paused for a second to pull me out of the way of a cart that almost ran over my feet and he was like 'you good' and i was like 'yeah' and then we went back to arguing

oh and there's this one kid who's called the Grand Father because he says he's my dad's dad (my dad is 60, he's fourteen, but math and our family don't go well together so whatever) and he kind of just. hovers. on our family tree.

also we're gosh darn near emotionally connected. like we did a feet washing ceremony (don't ask, we're teenagers with too much time on our hands) and some of us were super nervous about showing our dogs but we prayed for God to use our dumbness and then Caden started crying at the end of it and lily and i went to pray for him and then we started crying and before you knew it we were all sobbing and we were singing and praying for our nation and our friends and i've never felt more free than i did sitting on the dusty tile floor of that random church basement out in Appalachia with my family and God. Juju (the protector of the family, seriously she will kill anyone who lays a hand on us) said it felt like 'something big and hot and awesome was bursting out of my chest and making everyone's lives brighter'. That's the closest thing to poetry i've ever heard come out of her lips.

there's alexis too she and i almost dated (long story) but when I told her i wanted to follow the traditional view of the bible she said it was okay and she supported me and now she's best friends with my entire irl family

oh and there's katie she's the weird adopted neighbor lol she loves knives and debating with people about the existence of the Bible

back to the spritual gifts thing, Lily and I were the first to understand ours. Mine is... hmm, the best way to describe it, I guess, is empathy. it's an ability to read people, to discern? maybe? to see through their reactions into their soul and what they really need, and the most loving way to give it to them. Lily's is basically spiritual sight-- she's seen demons since she was little. she told me she saw something dark in me the day after i started cutting, and she told me she could tell the difference when i stopped. no one else except for alexis and juju knew. now i've told my story more, but not much yet. I think the day we realized this weird crap was real was the day a guy walked into the amish market. normal as ever, he'd come in there before, but I literally cringed when he came up to make his order. there was someting off about him, something dangerous. I turned to Lily and told her when he was way out of earshot and she was already giving me the exact same look. she said there was darkness in him. we prayed for him for almost an hour, off and on while we did our work. when he left we breathed a sigh of relief. turns out he'd robbed a nearby place earlier in the day and was armed he was picked up.

there was another time one of my friends from another church got stuck when that plane thing crashed into the main power lines and all the street lights and stuff went out? they were all stuck at their church and one of the new attendees pulled out a gun. he texted us. i texted the group. we started praying. the guy never shot anyone, and the police said he handed his weapon over without a fight.

we also crave discomfort. it's a brave thing, learning to be comfortable in discomfort. i've never met any other group, christian or not, who jumps at the chance to help a group of heroin addicts get cleaned up for job interviews, or volunteers to clean out an entire warehouse full of dust and inhalants and possibly mold or lice or bed bugs or who knew what else as we worked. but we did it. we cheered. we sang. we laughed. we connected with people. and when we came home it didn't stop. every time we meet we do something. we pray for change. we go out and hand out soda and ask people if there's anything we can pray for. we've made friends with every family within ten miles of our church. we regularly bring food and candy to people. we're hosting a trunk or treat and i was asked to do the Chops Fam (get it, knives) trunk. i can't fathom how to represent us well. maybe that's why my brain needed to shove all this out.

we also renovate houses. for fun. did i mention that? the only thing more satisfying than ripping into walls with three of your best friends beside you is the looks on people's faces when they see how much we've done and how much we care and how it's all free because we'll take the load for you this once because 'if we have the power to give even one person a little bit of relief, how can we not give it?'

oh, and one time a crazy guy came to our church. we gave him a doughnut and a coupon to the local bakery before we called the authorities (and then prayed until they got there).

then a bunch of teens came in and smoked marijuanna in our barn (yes, youth group happens in a renovated barn. we fixed it up ourselves. it's freaking awesome.) We set out snacks for them and put up signs to let them know when the doors would be unlocked and the wifi password, so they could stay-- as long as they didn't smoke inside or break anything. they haven't come for service or youth yet, but they come just before. sometimes we see them leave. we wave, they wave back. maybe someday they'll want to meet us.

i've never felt more alive than when eight of us are all crammed on one couch, calling out answers and debating things and stuffing our faces with food, or when you're at the end of a street and you look back and see all the groups spread out like a tree, handing out candy and praying and laying hands on people and giving people hugs. my dad finally reconciled his past of drug abuse when he met the addicts we were loving. he wrote music with one of them. one of them gave him an extra Bible, just about the only thing they owned, and later that day George gave it to a kid who followed us to ask Caden why we were so nice.

I remember us all crying on the floor of that basement. I remember crying at worship, leading my family up to the front, locking arms at the shoulders like we were going to war, screaming the words at the tops of our lungs. i remember holding a girl for hours while she cried and sobbed and begged God to forgive her. I remember someone sobbing as they were freed from the depression that had held them captive for so long. I remember the senior, if not his name, who walked up to me during worship and told me God had a message for me-- that I was waiting on something important, something school related, and I was stressed, but God's answer was no and it was for the best. Two days later I was rejected from the early college program. This year i have the time to support three of my friends who are going through the most stressful time of their lives, and my dad, who just lost a friend. and even when that happened, all of his 'kids' gathered around and prayed for him. we send him messages every day reminding him that there is hope. that he will be okay. that he will see his friend again. we're still hoping that friend will get off his deathbed, but if he doesn't, we're still here. we're still fighting. God's will be done. We never pray for anything else.

i remember standing around that friend's parents and praying, not for their son to survive, although that too, but for them to have strength. peace. their tears were dried. they smiled for the first time in weeks.

i remember screaming. laughing. crying.

i remember feeling nothing at all, and i wonder

how could i not be so endlessly greatful?

in short, i love my family, and i refuse to outgrow them. call it a cult if you must, but they are my life, my hope for the future, my pride, and my joy. we keep each other accountable. we lift each other up. We encourage each other We fight for each other. We see the crap the world pulls, and we say fuck that. We choose to love. We choose to spread light. We choose to love. We choose to pray in public places, and sing on the streets. We choose to do all we can for our neighbors, the people God tells us to serve the most. We are the servants. We are the rebels. We are the change.

That's not to say we don't have a lot of fun, either. We dance and laugh and try on each other's lip gloss and have karaoke at one in the morning and that one time we all caught the same flu bug at church camp we still beat the other churches' asses and then collapsed on the floor of the common room in bags and told each other stories. We sneak out and sit on roofs and look at the stars. We watch the meteors and talk about life. We have an entire row of the tree (my grandchildren) that are stuffed animals, each with their own names and personalities and birthdays which are heavily celebrated. we make the birthday kid feel as awkward as humanly possible. we wrestle. we go to bell festival once a year and chug energy drinks and try to sing our parts on the bells until the adults threaten to turn around and go home. we built a gaga ball pit-- leveled the ground, built the pit, churned out the gravel, tamped it, decorated it, all by ourselves. church work days are a fricking BLAST.

i love my family. i love my home. i love the life that i live. and i wouldn't change it for the world.

because when you have all this, who cares what some random strangers on the internet say?

#christianity #jesus freaks #friends #found family #love #beauty #jesus

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starfirelove · 4 years ago

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This is a very very very late birthday present for the amazing @moonscarsandstars. I love you so so much babe (except for that thing yesterday you little shit) and I hope you enjoy this thing I wrote!

“I’m not doing it.”

“But whyyy?”

“Because it’s creepy as hell, James. That’s why.”

Sirius shoulders open the door to James’ room and flops down onto his bed.

“It’s not creepy!” James protests, flinging his backpack into a corner.

“It’s just unconventional.”

“Read ‘creepy and stalker-ish’,” Sirius mutters.

James plops down on the bed next to Sirius. “You,” he says, poking his friend in the ribs. “Are no fun.”

Sirius snorts. “I’m plenty of fun. I just don’t write random people letters and put them in their mailbox.”

“At least not yet,” James teases.

“Not ever.”

James rolls his eyes, toeing his shoes off. “You’ll cave, eventually.”

“Unlikely,” Sirius says firmly, folding his legs up onto the bed. Only to be shoved roughly off not a moment later.

“Prongs!”

“No shoes on the bed!” James gestures to his own recently departed shoes. “This is the one rule that I have.”

Sirius picks himself up off the floor. “You sound like your mother.”

“Do not.”

Sirius kicks his shoes off but doesn’t return to the bed. Instead, he takes a seat at James’ desk. In favor of silently spinning in the swivel chair.

They’d been having the same back and forth debate for days now. Should Sirius send a letter to that boy who lived down the street? Or no.

James, of course, voted yes. As did many of Sirius’ friends. Sirius, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out why.

His friends seemed to be under the impression that this was some sort of young adult novel. It wasn’t.

You couldn’t just send random people letters. What if they called the police? Then what? Not to mention the fact that Sirius didn’t even know his name. That certainly would complicate things.

That’s not to say they were complete strangers though, Sirius and the mystery boy. Quite the contrary, actually.

The two had met before, when Peter’s mother pointed out the fact that that house was the one she grew up in.

The current occupants of Mrs. Pettigrew’s childhood home had insisted on giving her a tour. A sort of them versus now type thing, Sirius supposed.

As it happened, James and Sirius were there the day of the tour. And that was when Sirius had first run into mystery kid.

They’d been briefly introduced, but Sirius was too busy considering how awkward it was to be walking through someone’s house to pay attention to his name.

Now, nearly seven months later, Sirius, James, and Peter had seen the boy again. And for some ridiculous reason, James was under the impression that sticking a letter with his number on it in that boys mailbox was the best idea ever.

Ok technically it was Sirius’ own fault that the idea even came to mind. But he was absolutely joking when he’d said, “what do you want me to do, stick a letter in his mailbox?”

In response to James’ telling him to go socialize. That didn’t mean he was serious (all jokes aside, of course.)

“Yo,” James says, and Sirius stops spinning.

“Mm?”

“Peters asking if we want to come over. His mom's baking cookies.”

Sirius halts his spinning and stands. “Really all you had to say was ‘cookies’ and I would’ve been on board.”

James laughs. “Fair enough.”

James scoops up his backpack and slings it onto his shoulder while Sirius pulls his shoes back on.

“What are you bringing that for,” Sirius asks, curiously.

James shrugs. “You never know.”

Sirius rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything else about it, he just leads the way out of James’ room.

The two of them run into Euphemia at the foot of the stairs.

“Leaving so soon?”

“Peter invited us over,” James explains.

“His mom is making cookies,” Sirius adds.

Euphemia nods solemnly. “I don’t blame you, Peggy’s baking is amazing.”

“That it is!” James agrees, starting for the front door. Sirius follows him.

“Sirius,” Euphemia says, voice slightly sing-songy.

Sirius stops in his tracks.

“Those aren’t shoes are they?”

“Nope,” Sirius says. “They absolutely are not.”

“Hmm, that’s what I thought,” she says with a laugh. “You boys have fun now.”

“We will,” James calls, opening the door and then shutting it firmly behind them.

“I told you you sound like your mother,” Sirius snickers.

“Oh, fuck off,” James says. “That was a joke and you know it.”

Sirius very much does know it, but he chooses to ignore it.

A little while into their walk, Sirius feels a buzz at his side, buoyed by the familiar Apple ringtone.

“Who is it?” James asks.

“Lemme get the phone out first,” Sirius responds. Then, “Marlene.”

“Aren’t you going to answer that?”

“I’m getting there.”

A moment later Marlene’s face pops onto the screen. Her blonde hair splayed across the pillows around her.

“What’s up?” Sirius asks.

“Did you do it?” She asks, and Sirius groans.

James plucks the phone out of his hand before he can respond.

“No, he absolutely did not. I’ve been trying for hours!”

“Give Sirius his phone back,” Marlene commands.

Sirius take his phone back, eyebrow raised.

“What?”

“Pussy,” Marlene says, and then eats what appears to be a handful of gummy worms.

Sirius throws his hands up, exasperated. “What is it with you all and your stupid letter!”

Marlene shrugs. “Dunno, just need some gay drama in our lives I suppose.”

Sirius glares at her. “Marlene,” he says slowly. “You. Are. A. Lesbian.”

“And you’re gay as a maypole,” Marlene retorts. “Go get the guy, Black.”

“It is not that easy,” Sirius sighs.

“Can you write?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have a phone?”

“No, I’m calling from a toaster.”

“That would explain the poor video quality.”

“Bullshit.”

Marlene ignores this. “Seems to me like you’re perfectly capable of writing that letter.”

“Yes, but I’m not social,” Sirius says.

Both Marlene and James laugh at that.

“Sirius Black you are the most social person I know aside from myself and your haired idiot over there.”

“Hey!” James says, indignant.

“You can write that letter,” Marlene continues. “I know you can.”

“The problem isn’t I can’t do it,” Sirius says, handing the phone to Marlene so that he can tie up his hair, which has decided for whatever reason to fall in his eyes and be irritating. “I just don’t want to because it’s stupid,” Sirius finishes.

“I see,” Marlene says.

She’s silent for a bit. Which is slightly alarming to Sirius. Marlene is only this quiet on the phone when she’s thinking or playing Subway Surfers, her designated FaceTime Game.

“Well then,” She says, and Sirius releases a sigh of relief. “I guess I can’t make you.”

“Nope,” Sirius says cheerfully, a girl starting to spread across his face.

“Unless of course I dare you to,” Marlene says, and Sirius’ grin drops.

It’s Marlene’s turn to smile now. “Gotcha.”

“You’re the devil.”

It’s quite the well known fact that Sirius will take basically any dare, so long as it doesn’t hurt someone else. And as far as he can tell, this dare isn’t hurting anyone. Not even himself, save for some minor embarrassment.

“How did you know what my Halloween costume was,” Marlene asks, she’s still grinning at him.

“Well, you certainly aren’t an angel,” Sirius grumbles.

Marlene waves a gummy worm at him. “Ain’t that the truth. Well then, I dare you to write that random guy a letter.”

James whistles. “Gosh why didn’t I think of that?”

“You’re afraid of being murdered, maybe?” Sirius suggests.

“And Marlene isn’t?”

“I’m the devil, remember? Already dead.”

“Right, of course, my bad,” James says.

Marlene turns her attention back towards Sirius. “You’re near Peter’s, right? You should send the letter now.”

“With what?” Sirius asks. “I’m short on paper if you can’t tell.”

Marlene gestures to James who is holding up his backpack triumphantly.

“Told you we’d need it!”

“I hate you both,” Sirius mutters, snatching a pen and paper from James.

“What the hell am I even supposed to write?”

“You number,” Marlene says unhelpfully.

“No shit Sherlock.”

Sirius decides not to ask anymore questions. He just scribbles out a quick note and folds the paper.

“What’d you say?” James asks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Sirius retorts.

They’re right in front of the house now, and Sirius is wondering if he should just back out of it.

“Don’t be shy,” Marlene says from her end of the phone. Sirius has the vague idea that she’d be shoving him forward if she were here right now.

As it happens he doesn’t need the shove. He walked up the drive himself, ignoring Marlene’s, “Wait flip the camera James. I wanna see him do it.”

He’s at the front porch now, and he thinks he can hear something in the kitchen. There’s the sound of rushing water, dishes maybe?

Without giving it much more thought, Sirius shoves the letter inside the mailbox, wincing at the slight creak it makes.

Then he jogs back down the drive and continues towards Peter’s house.

James runs after him.

“Don’t you feel liberated now?” Marlene asks.

“If by ‘liberated’ you mean like a fucking fairytale charcater then, yes. Sure.”

“I don’t know of any fairyta—“

“Goodbye Marlene,” Sirius says, he takes the phone from James and promptly hangs up on her.

“Rude,” James says jokingly.

“Oh, please, she’s done worse,” Sirius snorts.

“But don’t you feel excited?” James asks.

“I feel anxiety.”

“You’ll thank us later.”

Even thought Sirius rolls his eyes and shoves James into a nearby plant, he can’t help but wonder if James and Marlene are right. And if this’ll actually go somewhere.

Ah, well, that’s another problem for another day. At present moment he should probably be running right about now before James comes to exact his revenge. And that, is exactly what he does.

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arunablogz · 3 years ago

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Indian student life diaries

Title-Friendships never die

todays day was so bad,so lemme tell you why so you see i have a friend known as mridul and somehow my class teacher thought it would be a good idea to make use sit together and then our friendship grew more and more and more but then today as the day my teacher was like “oh man these bois are having fun they aren’t really supposed to have fun well i guess i should end their fun”and then guess what??THE TEACHER CHANGED OUR SEATS so now that i am gonna be depressed for the WHOLE DAY lemme introduce you to some of the kids who sit near me so they are-

Akash- the kid everyone hates in the class and hes literally so annoying he wears glasses and hes smart and all but the thing is he shouts to the every single answer in the class and he’s like the kid who wants to get into every single-argument,debate,compition,fight,conversation and friendships and he shouts IN MY EARS so hes bad and he seats behind me

kartikay- hes NOICE - sits with me

abhay- a mixture of good and bad boy sits in front of me

another reason my day was bad is beacuse i got 4 in sanskrit and 7 i science so its bad

but not all hope is lost you see when i reached home my mother made pumpkin and i didnt like it so to make it out she told she would order pizza for me for dinner and thats its noice anyways i have to go drawing class at 4:00pm i kinda make noice drawing.......I SUCK,anyways in some later diaries i might attach some of my masterpieces and that’s afternoon for ya now see you in evening hi arunabh from the evening so right now its 6:30pm and i am just watching malcolm in the middle right now so its pretty chill my mother said she will order pizza at 7:30pm so i guess this is the end of my diary cuz i dont do anything fun at night sometimes i go for ice cream or smthin idk but usually i will finish the diary here and post it finally EDIT: tommorow is a holiday of my school so tomorrow's diary might Be a little boring but I am kinda sure Saturday's one will be nice

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lyssismagical · 4 years ago

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you were never mine

I’m a bad student somebody stop me

AKA I wrote this on my phone during a zoom call for class, so it’s not the best and it’s kinda messy but here we are anyway

TW: abusive parent, violence, blood

another piece of a shameless au i’ll write one day

There’s an ear-splitting noise that sounds a lot like glass shattering, and Abbie flinches, tucking herself closer against the wall, one arm wrapped around a sibling, more by her feet.

Their mom showing up, out of the blue, was protocol for what started out as a decent weekend. Harley ushered them all off, passing Bentley off to Abbie, as soon as he’d smelled the alcohol and weed on her.

From Harley’s bedroom, they could hear everything that was happening downstairs, words mostly muffled but emotions just as clear as day.

Bentley’s on her lap, Jonah and Dayton on either side of her, Aspen sitting on the other end of the bed, and Sebastian is on Aspen’s other side.

Harley’s room smells like him. Like gunpowder, leather, cheap soap, and strawberry milkshakes from the diner. It makes them all feel safe, knowing Harley’s out there protecting them, keeping them safe, always.

Downstairs, muffled and distant, Harley’s shouting, “They’re not your kids, Macy. They were never your kids!”

And Macy sounds like she’s crying, and Abbie can picture exactly what she looks like in that moment. Desperate and scared and angry, hair wild and eyes tired, reaching out to try to comfort Harley like he was ever her son.

She’s always been pretty, in that hardened Tennessee way. Auburn hair, long but always tied back, skin clear and tan, eyes a dark honey-brown, hands calloused and angles sharp.

Most of the Keeners have a lot of those same features. Especially the oldest, the ones that were Dad’s and Mom’s, not just one or the other. The younger they get, the farther apart they look.

Bentley, the youngest, is Dad’s, not Mom’s, and she barely looks like family. She’s lighter and softer than any of the other Keeners, blue-eyed and a blonde tuft of hair, porcelain skin with softer edges.

“Why is he yelling at her?” Dayton asks. He’s so young, only eight-years-old and he’s facing all this pain and suffering at the hands of the people who were meant to love him unconditionally. He barely knows Mom, doesn’t know who his dad is. He doesn’t understand why things happened the way they did, doesn’t get why Harley’s so pissed at Mom, doesn’t understand why he can’t have clothes that aren’t hand-me-downs.

And Abbie just shushes him because she can’t begin to explain why.

“They’re my babies! You can’t keep them from me! I’m their mom!” Macy’s shouting downstairs. There’s more glass shattering and Abbie pulls Bentley closer when she hears the telltale sound of skin on skin.

“What if I did let you see them?” Harley demands, voice trembling and an octave higher. “Would you hit Aspen too? Would you attack Dayton? Would you scream at Abbie? Would you make their lives hell?”

She can’t make out what Macy says in response to that, but she can guess it’s nothing but lies and grasping for pity.

“I wanna see her,” Jonah says, blinking up at Abbie. “Why can’t I see her?”

“Macy isn’t a good person.” She’s pissed, shaking with the fiery anger that’s flooding through her, and she hates that this it what she’s forced to do. Hates that Harley has to take the brunt of everything.

There’s a future for them, she thinks, as she looks around at her siblings. There’s a future there.

Harley’s set it all up for them, made sure they’ll be ready to get out of Rose Hill one day. He’s going to get them all through school, going to send them off to live their lives, far and wide, doing anything they wish to do.

Abbie’s going to go to New York. She’s going to get a full ride to Harvard, she’s going to be lawyer, she’s going to be successful and live on the coast. She’s going to be the first Keener to graduate high school, the first to go to college, the first to have a real job, the first to make it out of Rose Hill with a future, the first to be be above the poverty line, the first to make it to nineteen without an unplanned pregnancy.

And the rest of them will follow. Aspen, Sebastian, Dayton, Jonah, Bentley, and whichever children will be dumped on them from Mom or Dad or a stranger claiming to have Dad’s child.

All of them but Harley.

Harley will be tied to them until the day the youngest Keener gets out of Rose Hill. Even if they’re lucky enough to be done with Bentley, Harley will be stuck here until he’s thirty-five, never have graduated high school.

“I’ve given up everything for them!” Harley cries, loud enough for them to hear, clear and heartbreaking all the same. “You’ve done nothing but take and take and take, and I’ve had to fill in every gap. I’ve been their mom, their dad, their brother, their sole caretaker, their breadwinner, their chaperone, their everything. And you’ve been nothing. You’ve done nothing for them. The best thing you ever did to those kids was leave them.”

And it hurts like Abbie’s been shot, clinging to her brothers, bleeding out on Harley’s bedspread, dying unable to make a sound.

“I want a second chance. Just let me have the littlest one, Bentley, let me take her and have a second chance at being a mother!”

“You can’t just show up and take your fucking pick!” Harley shouts, a sob caught in his throat. “You weren’t here, Macy! You weren’t here to change their diapers or help with math homework or go to their sports games. I was here! This is about what I did!”

Macy goes to say something, but it goes unheard under Harley’s tearfully loud voice.

“I was here! I was always here when you weren’t! And you know what? I did a fucking good job,” Harley says, shouting and crying and desperate. “Abbie’s captain of the volleyball team and junior class president! Aspen’s got a perfect GPA! Sebastian’s captain of the debate team, he volunteers at the animal shelter on the weekends! Dayton made a solar system for science and got an A plus! Jonah’s running now, he’s talking in full sentences, he’s fully potty trained, and he’s starting kindergarten next fall. Bentley, she’s an angel. Her first word was Harley. I was here! Where the fuck were you?”

“I’m here now, Harley,” Macy says, almost too quiet for the kids to hear upstairs. “I deserve to see my children.”

“They don’t even know who you are!” Harley shouts and there’s more glass breaking.

Macy’s voice drops lower. “I’m their mother.”

“You were my mother too!”

“Please, Harley,” Macy begs. “I just want to see my children.”

But Harley’s never given up that easily, he’s never let anything come between him and his family. “No. Just get out. I’m not letting you see them. I’m not going to let you brainwash them”

It goes quiet after that, save for a few muffled noises every now and again.

“Is he okay? Do you think she- Do you think she killed him?”

Abbie hits Sebastian on the arm. “Don’t say something like that, you’ll scare the little ones.”

“I’m serious. Are you sure he’s going to be okay?”

“When has Harley not been okay, Bas?”

It’s not the truth, Harley’s been far from okay for a very long time. And normally, encounters with Macy ends pretty badly for him.

But there’s nothing they can do. Harley’s strictest rule is that when he tells them to hide, they can’t come out until Harley comes to get them. If Abbie leaves, that leaves Aspen, fourteen years old, to protect them.

Abbie’s job is to stay here, protect the littlest one if, for some reason, Macy comes after them.

It only takes about an hour for Harley to get up to them, shouldering the door open.

He’s bruised and bloody and limping, but he’s somehow got a wide smile on his face. “Macy has officially left the building.”

“What the fuck did she do to you?”

Abbie’s up and over in a second, passing Bentley off to Bas, and grabbing his chin to get a better look at him. It looks like he broke his nose, blood smeared on his upper lip, right eye swollen nearly shut, one arm cradled against his ribs, fingers splayed on his chest. His lip is split open, jaw bruised, glass still clinging to his shirt.

“It’s fine. She’s gone, she’s not coming back for a while. We’re safe and sound. How do we feel about mac and cheese for dinner?”

There’s not much they can say otherwise, watching Harley grin, teeth stained with blood, and nodding to the door.

It’s not like Harley would listen to any of them anyway. He loves them too much to let them talk him out of keeping them safe.

Taglist:�� @littlemissagrafina @fancyxparker @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @misskirkstark @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester @emo-girl10 @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment @joyful-soul-collector @genderfluid-and-confuzled @fallenstar07 @gyurolls @sdottkrames {Lemme know if you wanna be added or removed}

buy me a coffee

#lyss writes #shameless au #i'll write a real shameless au one of these days #for now. oneshots #harley keener #abbie keener #jonah keener #sebastian keener #dayton keener #aspen keener #bentley keener #parkner

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4birds-of-a-feather · 4 years ago

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Chapter 27 - Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight (when it’s exactly twelve o’clock that night) [part 4]

Birds Of a Feather

Today is Sara’s birthday (both the author and the fictional one!) so we decided to come out of our usual hiatus to post a silly update and let y’all know that we’re grateful to have such wonderful, loyal readers that haven’t given up on us ✨ Hope you’re gonna enjoy this!

(In the previous chapters: the game of Never Have I Ever has been intense, to say the least, and now the guests are left to go on with the party with the aftermath of thoughts and memories that the game brought up)

The game finally ended and, unsurprisingly to everyone, Elias was the undisputed winner. Nevertheless, he laughed it off, saying he just lied and avoided drinking when he could have done it because he’d rather have the others get drunk so he could make fun of them. The gang didn’t even pretend to believe his version. They hated him more when Layla came up with the idea for the prize. Elias was already rubbing his hands, expecting a kiss or something similar, but it turned out the girl wanted to award him by revealing to him the solution to her previous game. “Sorry, Layla, but I gotta tell you, you don’t know what you just did there” Mike shook his head as she walked him by with two full glasses in her hands. “Hehe, what?” she stopped to talk to him and after an awkward couple of seconds handed him one of the drinks. She had meant to catch up with Eddie, offer him the drink, drink up her stronger one for some liquid courage, and tell him that she liked him. But now there she was, talking to Cready, and didn’t want to seem rude, keeping the alcohol to herself. “You put a big weapon in the hands of the wrong person, that is Elias. Now the guy’s gonna go to every girl in the room and use it as a bargaining chip to get something out of it” Mike explained keeping a straight face, something that made her laugh in his face “Don’t laugh, I’m not joking!” “You’re an evil genius, how did you come up with such a plan? I bet Elias didn’t even think about that!” “Uhm, I don’t know… but I bet you didn’t think about it. Or you’d have already used it with a certain someone…” he remarked and hid his smile drinking a sip from his glass. “What the hell are you talking about, Michael? You’re drunk” Layla tried to sound dismissive but was actually smiling. “I’m talking about things, you know. Things that should be done. And if you’re gonna do things, New Year’s Eve is the night – I mean, it’s the mother of all nights, isn’t it?” “The mother of nights to do… things?” Layla asked with an arched eyebrow. “Exactly. Like, it’s New Year’s Eve! It’s a big event” “A big doing-things event” the girl nodded suspiciously. “You almost feel like you have to do things tonight” “Ok but no. This idea of having to do things... it’s kinda cliché. Isn’t New Year’s Eve just so overrated?” “Maybe. I guess you don’t need to ring in the New Year doing things… if you actually do things during the rest of the year too. But if you don’t…” Mike didn’t finish his sentence, keeping the weird theoretical conversation on a very practical matter going. “And what if I wanna start doing things tomorrow?” “Well, it’s almost tomorrow, so...” he shrugged and took Layla by her wrist, showing her her own watch. “Half past eleven? Already?” Layla emptied her glass at once and handed it to Mike, then left and went around the apartment looking for someone, finally determined. <New Year’s resolution #1: doing things>

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Sara was quietly sipping on her fruit punch when the stereo system started to blast Lambada at full volume; after she recovered from a near death by choking, she proceeded to look for the person responsible for that atrocity. Meanwhile, around her some people had begun to dance to the tune in a totally unironical way – that made her quicken her pace. “I knew I shouldn’t have left you in charge of the mixtape!” she finally gave the culprit a push from behind “You’re a fuckin’ asshole, you know that?” “I’ve been told, once or twice...” Stone gave her a lazy smile “What, you don’t approve of my musical choices?” “Fuck off” the girl started to walk away, then suddenly stopped “Oh, by the way: all these years you’ve been pulling my leg by saying I’m the shortest person you’ve ever known? Get your eyes checked, champ” she nodded in Demri’s direction while looking pointedly at him. “That’s because she doesn’t count – she’s like some kind of nymph” “Oh, wow, a nymph” Sara kept her deadpan face but seemed to stress the last word “And that makes me a…?” “... a person with dwarf ancestry, no doubt about it” “I hope you choke on one of those stupid pretzels you made Layla buy” she cut it short and made her way to a group of people from where Demri was calling her. “Hey, girl! I’ve been meaning to ask you: what sign are you? ‘Cause I have a faint idea of what you might be, but I wanna make sure I haven’t lost my touch” “Aquarius, what about you?” “I knew it! We’re neighbour signs, I’m a Pisces and I simply adore Aquarius people” Demri grinned enthusiastically, then looked at the others “They’re so full of knowledge and different interests, they always show you a point of view you would have never thought to see from, they-” “Ok, ok, enough with this astrology bullshit” Stone interrupted her, having apparently joined the group “We get it, you really like playing the little witch but cut us some slack, please” “Hey, it’s not bullshit! The planets are actually involved in shaping our personalit-” “Yeah? Then why Chris and I were born on the same day but he’s like that and I’m like this?” “I guess you can blame genetics for that” Sara blurted out, making Layne chuckle loudly enough to get the stink eye from the guitarist. “... that’s because you both have Sun in Cancer but were born in two completely different years, so all the other planets and signs are different too! It’s not so hard to get it, Stoney – this must be the hundredth time I’m explaining it to ya” the other girl didn’t miss a beat, and Sara could have kissed her then and there for the way she had just handed Stone’s ass to him – his embarrassed shitface was priceless. “So… how does this work? How can you actually know which planet is in which sign?” Chris seemed to show genuine interest about the topic, and Demri gave him a radiant grin. “Well, beside the birthdate you also have to take into account the time and birthplace you were born… the latitude and longitude and all those things, and you have to do some calculations to figure out the results, but you use some printed tables to help you with that” she sighed “I knew I had to bring my manual here! It’s old so the tables aren’t up to date, but they would have been good enough for our birthdates… fuck my life” “Hey, I’ve got one huge book that Layla gave me for my last birthday – if I’m not mistaken, the tables there go until 2020… I could lend it to you a few days so you can xerox the pages you need and then we could meet someplace so you can give it back to me? What do you say?” Sara didn’t have to wait for an answer because the other girl had literally jumped on her and was hugging her tightly. “You’re the best Aquarius I’ve ever met! God, I love you, you crazy, beautiful people” “I take it you approve, great” Sara chuckled “Just lemme go in my room to see where I put it – the sooner I start to look for it, the sooner you’ll be able to shed some light upon these amateurs’ miserable lives” She shot a cheeky wink in Demri’s direction and then proceeded to make her way to her room. <Who would have thought to find a fellow astrology enthusiast right here? I have to concede to Layla that, after all, giving this party wasn’t such a bad idea…> The girl smiled to herself: the day was reaching its end but it looked like it wasn’t going to be an entire failure – not something she would have expected after what had happened in the afternoon. She finally opened the door, a hand already going to flick the room’s light on, and when she turned she stood petrified. Apparently, there already were a couple of people on her bed: a girl with a blonde bob was straddling a guy – at least, the hands that were struggling to unclasp her bra seemed to belong to a man. The confirmation came when the hidden figure stuck his head out and revealed himself to be none other than Jeffrey Allen Ament. “Oh – I’m so-sorry, I’ll just go… don’t let me disturb the two of you” she muttered as stiffly as she could, then mustered all her strength and bolted out of the room.

The ice cubes in the drinks Layla had been holding in her hands were melting. She had fixed two more for Eddie and her but hadn’t approached the singer yet – and not because she couldn’t find him. There he was, sitting on the couch, totally absorbed in a conversation with Matt Lukin, who was also sharing a joint with him. Layla found herself fantasizing about what the hell those two could be talking about, whether they were having a deep philosophical debate or they were just trying to answer age-old questions like “What do teeth taste like?”, “Which armrest at the movie theater is yours?”, “Do pets name their owners?”, “Is the S or the C silent in SCENT?” The girl realized her drinks were warm and downed them both, hoping they would make her more talkative. Right after that she went to grab two beer cans from the fridge and walked through the people at the party up to Eddie at a moderately fast pace. Eddie saw her coming towards him with some anticipation and just smiled at her. “And that’s why it’s called sand, I swear to god” Lukin pointed out as she was in front of her. “And why is that?” Layla asked and Matt shot her a glance and sighed, as if she was asking a question with an obvious answer. “Because it’s between the sea and the land, of course” “Right, I’ve never thought about it!” she said as she handed one beer to Eddie. “What’s up, El? Are you having fun?” Vedder asked her and for a moment she thought that was probably the first time he called her like that: that was how Sara called her. She couldn’t say if it was a good or bad sign but didn’t think too much about it. “Yeah, the party’s been pretty successful so far… I mean, it didn’t turn into a disaster yet and nothing is on fire in the house, so yeah, everything’s alright” the girl replied and couldn’t help being surprised by the number of words which were escaping her mouth. <Couldn’t I simply say YES, WHAT ABOUT YOU? I guess it’s the alcohol speaking…> “And how come we say things are on fire while it’s actually fire being on things? Ever wondered about that?” Lukin questioned the two as he snatched the beer can from Layla’s hand “Thank you, darling” “Oh you’re welcome! And no… honestly I’ve never thought about that. Well, Eddie, can you just come with me for a second?” <Smooth, Layla, very smooth> she did a mental facepalm at how obvious she must have sounded. “What did I do?” the singer asked, suddenly alarmed, and Layla giggled and thought that he probably was too stoned to even understand shit. “Haha nothing, I just need you… err, need you for something” she pointed at somewhere vaguely around the hall with her thumb. “Uh ok, sure!” Vedder sprang up from the couch and took a last hit before handing what was left of the joint to Lukin. Layla started walking and gestured for Eddie to follow her. When he did she suddenly felt scared – actually terrified. She hadn’t practiced any speech, she hadn’t practiced anything, she just decided she’d tell him and now she had no idea how to practically do it. “Where are we going?” he talked into her ear as she was slowly walking through the people in the living room. “Uhm… just… DOWN THERE…” she didn’t turn around to answer and thought that yelling over the music was a much better option than finding herself face to face with Eddie just yet. “Are we leaving the house?” Eddie frowned as the two of them found themselves beside the front door of the apartment. “Oh no, I just, I thought of a quiet place, you know? To talk and stuff. And I think it’s quieter, here, don’t you think?” Layla said and knew that talk and stuff was up to her and it was too late to back away now. “It is. I honestly thought you wanted to save me from Lukin’s existential questions” “Hehe well, also. But I also wanted to talk to you” “Oh. About what?” a million things rushed through Eddie’s mind right then. What if she wanted to tell him she was getting back with her boyfriend? What if it was the opposite? What if it had nothing to do about them at all? What if it was just the solution to her mysterious game… <Yeah, that must be it, stop building your usual castles in the air> “About… about things and… failure, you know?” “Failure? What do you mean?” he asked confused. “I mean… you can fail either if you do things without thinking about them or if you think about things without actually doing them, right?” “Yeah…?” Eddie nodded and squinted at her, trying to guess where she was going with this. “And this is one of those there-are-two-types-of-people things. And I think I belong to the second type, I always did” “Uh-huh” “Like, I’m the one who always thinks about doing or saying stuff but rarely does. I'm that type of failure” “I have to disagree with that” “What?” Layla was surprised but also somehow relieved about Eddie interrupting her, so she could have a few seconds more to figure out what the hell she was talking about and where she was heading with all this nonsense. “You didn’t think too much about crowd surfing at our last show, well, not during our set but… I mean, you’re thoughtful and all but sometimes you’re capable of such impetuous acts. And you’re everything but a failure” Layla didn’t know if she was more surprised at what Eddie thought of her or for the fact he could use the word impetuous while high. “Well, I wish I was more impetuous in everyday life and not just at rock concerts” “Why are you telling me this?” “It’s… it’s just Mike’s fault!” “Mike?” “Yeah, we were talking about New Year’s resolutions and stuff like that” “Do you wanna know what my resolution is?” Eddie asked, still suspicious about the whole conversation. <So is that what it’s all about? New Year’s small talk?> “Yes, please” “Well… my resolution for 1991 is… to record this album and not to suck too much, to finally try and make an actual living of this thing that everybody in my family calls a hobby, you know? To play as many shows as I can. And not be fired by Stone” Eddie said and he wanted to add Kiss you to the list but he wasn’t intoxicated enough to say that out loud. “Oh well, that’s a very interesting bunch of resolutions” “What about yours? Being more impetuous and…?” “And…” <And tell you that I’ve been thinking about you, a lot. I think about you even when you’re right there with me. Like, I’m even thinking about you right now. Basically I always think about you. But not in a creepy way. It’s not like I’m listening at your door all the time. I’ve actually done it only once. Or twice. It’s not like I check the time when you get back home at night when I’m casually awake. Because it’s not like I stay awake on purpose waiting for you when you’re out at night. It’s definitely not like I picture your face while listening to your tape when you’re not around. It’s not like I listen to that cassette all the fucking time or anything. Well, to the casual observer of my thoughts it may look like I’m kinda creepy, like I’ve been thinking of you in a marginally creepy way… Oh my god, why am I telling you this? Wait, I’m not actually telling you! It’s all in my head so… nevermind> “... and get my master’s degree and find a real job. And get back into swimming” <See? I’m totally not thinking about you at all> “That’s cool” “Well, I used to be a pro. I can’t be a pro anymore, I don’t wanna be, I just wanna do it more. I just love being in the water” “I see. I love that too” Eddie agreed and came closer as Layla backed up until she had her back against the door. At the same time, without knowing, they were both thinking about being in the water together. “Anyway, I’m sure you’re gonna reach all your goals. If the record is half as good as the demo, then it’ll be huge” Layla snapped out of her water fantasy, while out of the corner of her eye she spotted an ocean blue sparkly blur pushing its way through the living room and running across the hallway behind Eddie’s back. “Wow, well, thank you” the guy was inches away from her but she was now focused on her friend, getting into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. <What the fuck is happening?> “... I gotta pee” “Huh?” “Yeah, gotta go. It’s almost midnight so… see you next year, hahaha” she nervously added and walked away, just like that, leaving a confused Eddie staring at the front door.

“Seems like she’s conjuring that book directly from Mars” Stone dead-panned: it had been a while ever since he had seen Sara going into her room. This time Layne didn’t laugh at him but thanks to his remark – to his wounded ego’s relief – and had instantly gained a slap on the nape provided by his girlfriend. “The more time passes, the more insufferable you become, Stoney” Demri huffed “It’s like you have some kind of biological need to pester anyone who has the misfortune of being on your way-nevermind! My ally has come out of the cave unscathed!” she added, after seeing the other girl finally exiting the room. Stone turned again and there she was, striding through the hallway like some sort of acid-tripped Starry Night. “Huh, looks like her treasure hunt didn’t go well” Layne remarked, noticing how her hands were empty; furthermore, she kept on walking without sparing their group a single glance until she disappeared from their view. “Annnnnd she’s gone” Chris clicked his tongue and raised his glass high in some sort of toast to Sara. “She’s gone but the real question is: where is she going?” Staley looked alternatively at his girlfriend, Cornell and Gossard, the latter remaining suspiciously silent. “And why?” Chris added after taking a sip. “Why? Well, given the expression on her face and the fact she didn’t seem to give a shit about us or the rest of the world, I think it’s pretty obvious she’s upset for something… or someone” Demri pointed out “But that could be just my stupid Pisces intuition talking, don’t mind me” <Tsk, it doesn’t take an astrologist to tell that the girl’s fucking mad> Stone thought but it wasn’t until he spotted a very well-known person in the corner that it all clicked in his mind. When he saw Jeff rushing into the hallway, looking around, followed by a blonde girl who was talking to him while fixing her shirt, it all started making sense. <That poor excuse for a vertebrate….> the guitarist shook his head and scrubbed his hand across his face in frustration. “I need a drink” he said, excusing himself from the small circle of friends, and apparently walked up into the kitchen. Instead, he made a bee line to wherever Sara went.

“Sara? Come on, Sara! What’s up? Just tell me if you’re ok in there” Layla had been knocking on the bathroom’s door for a couple of minutes when Eddie first and Stone soon after showed up behind her. “What’s happening?” the guitarist tried to assess the situation, without mentioning what he had just witnessed. “It’s Sara,” the other guy answered him, while Layla proceeded to increase the knocking’s intensity, hoping to bother the other girl enough to let her into the bathroom “I think she’s not feeling good” “Oh – you think it has something to do with the food? Or maybe there are too many people in here and she felt dizzy...” Stone kept on feigning ignorance about the real cause of the girl’s distress. “I don’t know, it could be? Layla and I just happened to see her run in this direction and decided to follow her to see what we could do, but she doesn’t seem to be willing to cooperate with us” “And can you tell us what are you doing here, Stone?” Layla huffed, upset because her best friend still had to answer to her pleas to open the door “The less people we are, the more chances we have to make her feel a bit better” “Nothing, I swear I was up to nothing” he raised his hands “I was just going to get myself something to drink when I saw you guys quickly walking in this direction and thought that I should check on you, that’s all” “What if she… you know… took something and…” Eddie scratched his nape, casually speculating, but Layla and Stone shushed him up almost at the same time. “What? No way, man” “Sara’s not into that stuff. I know what happened. It’s all Jeff’s fault” the girl pointed out and Gossard was surprised to hear that. <Did she see them too?> he wondered. But if that was the case, he was mostly surprised that Layla would mention it at all. “Why Jeff? What did he do?” the singer questioned, thinking of another typical round of Sara and Jeff quarrelling and being at each other’s throat. Eddie thought maybe Jeff could have gone too far this time. “I told him to go to Pike Place Market but I bet he didn’t!” she said, still frantically pounding on the door. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Stone had no idea what was going through the girl’s head and looked at Eddie, who seemed equally perplexed. “It took him little time to do all the grocery shopping I asked him to do for the party. I specifically told him to go to Pike Place to buy seafood but he came back with some low quality prawns he must have bought in some fucking convenience store or something closer to home. Sorry Sara, I should have known better!” the girl added the last sentence directly addressing the bathroom door in a louder voice. Stone laughed internally at Layla’s assumption, whereas Eddie thought she must be really worried if she used the F word. “Well, darling, if it makes you feel any better I’m not hearing retching sounds coming from the inside, so I think the food poisoning hypothesis can be excluded” the guitarist patted her on the shoulder, but she kept on knocking on the door. “I’m sorry to inform you that I won’t feel better until my best friend comes out of the cave! She doesn’t know it yet, but I make a damn good Jack Torrance impression and I’m honestly itching to let her see it” “... ouch, maybe it’s better if I go looking for something to drink for her, the situation is quickly escalating” Eddie added and began to walk in the kitchen’s direction, hoping to find something for himself as well. “Please, let it be some chamomile tea because she doesn’t need any more Godzilla fuel” Stone shouted at him, avoiding a brutal push from Layla, who had heard everything. “Can’t you just stop being sassy for a minute? I’m worried, for real, can’t you see it?” “You don’t need to be, trust me. Sara’s ok, nothing happened, really” “How can you say that?” the girl felt he was keeping something from her. “Because I know” “And how do you know?” “Because… Well, I was there so I know what happened. And it was nothing. Sara is just making a scene for nothing – which is typical of her, lemme tell ya” “Why do I feel you’ve got something to do with that nothing that happened?” Layla looked at him suspiciously. <I knew he was up to something the moment he arrived! After all, he was talking to her like five minutes before she fled into the bathroom, it must be Stone’s fault!> “Ok ok, I give in! I’ll confess.” Stone raised his hands as a defeat sign and said the first thing that came up to his mind “We were discussing movies and I just shared one maybe slightly unpopular opinion” “That is…?” “I just said that Martin Scorsese is overrated” “YOU SAID WHAT?” “I mean, he directed a bunch of pretty decent movies but-” “A bunch of decent movies? Did you use these exact words?” Layla now could see why Sara wouldn’t want anything to do with the world outside the bathroom. “Yeah, more or less. Anyway, he did something good but… err, I just find him so boring, you know” “Well I think I can speak on behalf of Sara and say you can stick your unpopular opinion up to your you-know-where and apologize to her, Martin and the movie industry” she folded her arms and started tapping her toe as if she was actually waiting for apologies. “And that was what I was expecting, I was expecting her to tell me to fuck off as usual but she just up and left. Maybe she’s in a bad mood” Stone shrugged and silently prayed for the girl to believe his bullshit. “Yeah, she’s been in a weird mood all day” Layla recalled her friend disappearing the whole afternoon and then reacting strangely during their drinking game. “I’ll apologize to her” “Good. Just do it” “But… I can’t do it if you stay here” “Hahaha and why? Are you shy all of a sudden?” “It’s hard for me, you know” “Are you like the poor man’s version of the Fonz? Who can’t physically say I’m sorry?” “Sort of…” “I don’t know if I can leave you and Sara alone, can I trust you?” she sincerely asked. “Oh for fuck’s sake, sure you can! I’m not Jeff” Stone retorted and his remark had multiple meanings but Layla could only grasp one of them, the most obvious one. “Ok, come on Sara, tell this guy off and get out of here! It’s almost midnight!” she addressed her friend again with one last weak knock on the bathroom door and then went back into the living room. “Scout, the coast is clear… now you can come out” Stone had waited for Layla to disappear before addressing again the door; there was silence, when finally a croaky voice came from inside the bathroom. “... that makes you Boo Radley, I suppose” The guitarist smiled to himself: “I guess it does” “I appreciate the sentiment but I just wanna stay alone” “And monopolize the bathroom for the whole evening? Nuh-uh, missy, I won’t all-” “Stoney, what are you doing here, talking with the bathroom door?” a wild McCready appeared out of thin air, looking at his bandmate in a mildly concerned way. “Just trying to find out if it’s made of oak or pine” “Well, try to get an answer really soon because I must go inside!” “Jeez, Mikey, you know you can smoke from the balcony, right? Nobody’s going to call the police” “What did you understand??” Mike grabbed him by the shoulders and started to shake him “I already did that, we’re talking about another kind of emergency!” “What? You lost your contacts and need to put in another pair?” “I NEED TO SHIT! There, I said it! Are you happy, now???” “... you could have done it from the start” “That’s what I was trying to do” “... too bad we have another emergency going on, so you should find another suitable place for your crap – literally” “WHAT THE FUC-” “In your shoes, I wouldn’t get excited… you never know when shit’s about to hit the fan” “Fuck off you and your shitty puns, Stone! Where am I supposed to go??” Mike whined, shifting his weight from one leg to another with little jumps. “I don’t know, you could shit in Jeff’s bass case? Or hidden behind the ficus plants, but pay attention because Elias might still be lurking there…” “I’m going to knock on some apartment doors and the first that opens to me is gonna be the chosen savior!” McCready made his way to the front door, but stopped halfway “Don’t think I’m gonna forget how merciless you’ve been with me, I’m having mine served cold” “Hope you’re not talking about your imminent masterpiece, Cready…” “FUCK OFF, STONE” and, thus said, the victim ran outside the VedderAment residence. Gossard let out a huge breath of relief, then turned again towards the door: “Now, where were we?”

#eddie vedder #jeff ament #Pearl Jam #eddie vedder fanfiction #pearl jam fanfiction #grunge fanfiction #jeff ament fanfiction #Birds of a Feather #chapters

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tuttifuckinfruttifriday · 4 years ago

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@randomly-a-fan 😌💖💖

“How daddy met mommy”

Pairing: Pennywise x Archie, Pennywise x Aquarius and Aquarius x Archie

Warnings: kind of forced relationship, gore, small cliffhanger like always ;)

It might not be that good since I don’t really have the mind to write rn... but I tried^^

So sorry it took so long D: don’t hesitate to tell me if I did some mistakes<3

—

Today, Pennywise wanted to do something he should have done a long time ago: he would tell his son how him and his mom really met, without sugarcoating it like she does. In his mind, Archie was old enough to not have anybody sugarcoat everything for him. It’s life, life is hard and can be cruel, you just have to accept it. So that’s why they were sitting on the couch and Aquarius was out, since she wanted to take some fresh air. “Sooo.. Kiddo.” The red head clapped his gloved hands as Archie’s face lit up, the little clown waiting patiently for his father to tell him what he wanted to. “You wanna know how your mother and I really met?” It took some time as the blunt question turned around in Archie’s head, his face darkening before it lit up again as he nodded. Pennywise, happy and not at all surprised by the answer, took a deep breath and then started to tell him, telling him that he would try to make it as short as possible:

It’s been some time since Pennywise got out of hibernation and started to feast, which meant there was now a curfew because of the numerous disappearances. Everybody was scared, so Pennywise didn’t really have a big amount of preys.... And his rage almost blinded him when he saw one of the two causes, the other one being the disappearances, evidently. He was walking in his human form, starting to get really hungry, until he saw what looked like a pitiful woman disguised as a clown, her hair looking like the galaxy, which he only guessed as a wig or dye, and her eyes a pale grey, almost white. There was a piece of wood where there was printed “Aquarius The Singing Clown” which he guessed was her name. It was probably what made him go towards her and the bunch of kids she was with, only for him to stop and stare, having a mental debate on why he walked towards the costumed woman. His eyes stared at the floating balloons, his ears blocking the “aww”s and requests of the little brats before her. That’s when his eyes caught hers looking towards him briefly, a golden ring contouring her pale iris as her pupils turned cat-like. If he was a human, he probably wouldn’t have seen it. When he blinked, he realized the woman was back at making balloons, her voice soft but energetic. And for that, it made his blood boil. He... He felt suddenly an immense rage submerge him and his hunger grew as his fists tightened. She wasn’t like the humans, she didn’t fit in... like him.

With that in mind, he made his mind: he would show her what she gets for taking his food, but he wouldn’t kill her... oh no no no no no........... He would take her as his mate. Some time later, after following her and making sure he knew where she was, he acted. Pennywise went into the room she was sleeping in, her soft snores and peaceful breathing making him soften his footsteps as his long feet hit the old wooden floor. It was probably an abandoned building, but right now he had other things to think about.

But it was when he arrived at his house that he would maybe regret.

Entering the old and abandoned house, Pennywise got into the sewer and placed her on a mattress he found. For some time, he only looked at her, never taking his eyes off of her as he considered all his options and thought about what he would do. After all, she was special. He went into a dark corner and waited, his mouth almost salivating as his thoughts drifted towards he not accepting him and him eating her—

But another part of him told him not to, since like I said earlier, she is special, it’s just that he didn’t really know how special she was yet.

“Where...Where am I??” He almost jumped in joy and revealed his location when he heard the smaller woman murmuring. She blinked lazily, her body tense as her eyes searched hastily for any information on where she was. She was obviously confused, like anybody would be in this situation. Getting up carefully and all her senses on high alert, she called out : “Hello???” An almost silent chuckle escaped him, which made her turn around and jump as she saw him, but she didn’t look afraid, strangely. He couldn’t smell anything on her except anger and confusion. But evidently, she still took some steps back when he approached her. “Hello....” “What do you want from me? Where am I??” “You’re not stupid, I see... Then it’s better.” She frowned at his insult and glared at him, her body still tense, as she tried to understand what he meant by”that’s better”. After some time of creepy talking and him telling her about the things he does, wanting her to have pity (if you could even call it that)towards him or his prey we’ll never know, her eyes finally opened wide as she heard him talking to her about her being his mate and all that—

“I’ll never. Get. Lost.” She said with gritted teeth, her pupils changing for cat-like ones like when he saw her. Her mouth a little agape, he could see pointy fangs. Now he truly was sure she wasn’t human. She swiped at him when he tried to get closer, which made him giggle until his face fell and he got dangerously serious suddenly. He didn’t handle people telling him no so he always reacted badly, like, really bad. So —

“She looks awesome!” Archie interrupted him, making him growl with frustration. He looked into his sparkly eyes full of admiration before he continued with a nod and a small mumble (“lemme finish”)

So he showed her his defence form, since he can’t change into something she fears because she doesn’t seem to have anything. His limbs cracked and popped as the woman, still alarmed and ready to fight, looked at him still, only to inhale sharply as she saw him transforming in what looked like a giant spider. With the two into their ‘scariest’ forms, they equaled each other, none getting on top of the other, strangely.

——

After the long fight they had, Pennywise decided that he would let her “go”. She immediately flew and he never really saw her again, until 2 weeks later. He had been following her for some time, so he knew what she had for powers and that she feasted on people’s sins(correct me if I’m wrong-). He was walking back from one of his hunt, in his human form, and he heard voices in an alley. More preys for him to feast on, that’s what he thought. And then, he realized it was Aquarius, and some guys who looked like douchebags. They were making threats and pushing her around, but what was shocking was that they weren’t affected by her siren spell(singing). His eyes immediately caught the orange plugs in their ears, and his eyes turned the same colour. It was so fast that the female clown didn’t have time to react more as she saw a body flying towards the wall, the sickening sounds of bones breaking and blood splattering filling the air. Another one’s head was bitten off, and that’s when she realized who saved her. The guy who kidnapped her... Penny something... “Pennywise, darling.” She was a little bit shocked when he corrected her, but looked unfazed as she sighed and thanked him silently... Now, she knew she owed him.

Before the amazed boy could say anything else, they heard the front door open and sift footsteps coming towards the living room. “Archie? Penny??” The latter called out to his wife, a small smile appearing on his face when he saw her relaxed expression when she saw the two. “What have you been doing?...” They tried to look as neutral as possible, saying that they did nothing special and only took some father and son time. She would let it slide this time, because she knew they weren’t really telling the truth... So she only nodded with a small pout and the small family talked happily for the rest of the day..

#pennywise #randomly a fan

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homeforchristmas-au · 5 years ago

Text

Here’s a lil somethin for this au cos y’all haven’t been getting content lmao I really need to work on this au ;^^

Characters: Logan, Patton, Remus, Roman, Virgil, Janus

Pairing(s): married logicality, familial... everything else basically

Warnings: a bit of fluff, there’s hot chocolate, uh mentions of die hard, nightmare before Christmas, and bad santa, not sure what else to warn for but lemme know if I missed anything!

Word count:

Patton and Logan were wrapping presents in their room for their kids. Logan was precise and meticulous in his wrapping, making sure it was perfect. Patton on the other hand... did his best.

"Patton, what on Earth happened?" Logan asked amusedly as Patton added what had to have been a third layer of wrapping paper to one of Virgil's presents.

"I wish I knew, Lo-Lo," Patton replied with a giggle. "Virgil might need some help with opening this one."

"Every year it's like you've never wrapped a present before," Logan joked with a smile. "And birthdays, too. Hell, I've seen Remus wrap presents more efficiently."

Patton feigned offence at that, though couldn't stop from smiling. Logan returned the smile and softly chuckled.

"Remus wraps his presents with toilet paper!" Patton exclaimed.

"And he does a fairly good job of it!"

They both couldn't help but laugh, Logan covering his mouth to contain his merriment. It didn't help that the sound of Patton's laughter always filled his heart with glee and he never knew what to do with that.

"Alright, then," Patton began once his giggles subsided. "How do I master the art of gift wrapping, Mr Gift Wrapping Expert?"

"Well, first of all, it's Dr Gift Wrapping Expert," he joked with a wide smile. "And second of all, there's a certain... science to it."

"Oh, is there?" Patton asked with a grin. "Then educate me, Doctor."

Logan blushed as he continued to smile. He took one of Roman's unwrapped presents and went over to Patton's side of the bed so they stood next to each other.

"There are a couple methods to wrapping boxes like this one, but I personally favour the diagonal wrapping method."

"Ooh, what's that?" Patton asked, Logan smirking.

"I'm gonna show you."

He placed the box on the wrapping paper, cutting out a piece that seemed too small and explaining what he was doing as he went along. He then made sure the box was in the centre of the wrapping paper and the flat sides of the box were perpendicular to the edges of the paper.

"Once you've found a place on the wrapping paper where you can pull up each corner of the paper and cover up every corner of the box, that's your starting point," he explained, showing Patton what he meant.

"That's so clever!" Patton exclaimed with a smile. "How are you so smart?"

"You're smart too, Patton. Just in different ways. I learned gift wrapping from my mother, when I started getting gifts for my sisters. My dad... well, he was always pretty useless when it came to wrapping presents."

He chuckled halfheartedly as he remembered hearing strings of expletives from his parents' room as his father tried and failed to wrap everyone's gifts. It became somewhat of a running joke in the family; whenever Logan or one of his sisters saw something poorly wrapped they'd jokingly say it must've been wrapped by their dad, or if he was there they'd ask him if he wrapped it. It always got a laugh. Even from their dad.

Maybe he was laughing now, wherever he was, that Logan married someone who was just as bad at wrapping as him.

Logan continued showing Patton how to wrap different presents, who paid close attention. He was even able to successfully wrap a box on his own, which Logan was proud of him for.

Patton topped the box with a bow, and then took another bow and stuck it to Logan's head. Patton smiled, sticking his tongue out slightly, and Logan couldn't help but grin.

"Why did you do that?"

"Because you're my present," Patton replied simply.

Logan's heart swelled with love as his smile grew tenfold. He brought Patton's lips to his, holding him close as they kissed.

"Eww, dad cooties!"

The unexpected sound of Remus's voice nearly caused Patton and Logan to jump out of their skin, pulling away and looking at the eight year old twins, who stood in the doorway.

"How'd you boys get in here?" Patton asked. "The door was locked!"

"It was, but I have a credit card!" Remus held up a distinctly green card, smiling mischievously.

"Where the hell did you get a credit card?" Logan asked, a bit flabbergasted.

"In the game of Life in the hall closet!"

"Remus is the one who roped me into this!" Roman rushed out, pointing an accusatory finger at his brother, who scoffed.

"Nuh-uh! This was your idea!" Remus returned the finger pointing.

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh!"

"It doesn't matter who started it," Logan interrupted. "I'm finishing it." He held out his hand towards the two, palm up. "Hand it over."

Remus sighed heavily and gave Logan the fake credit card. He crossed his arms as Logan pocketed it.

"So what'd we get for Christmas?"

"You're too late for peeking," Patton replied. "There's only one present left, and it's Janus’s."

"What'd you get him?" he asked excitedly as he began looking for the present, Patton quickly grabbing him by the waist.

"Nope, not telling." He carried Remus to the door and set him down outside, gesturing for Roman to follow. "Now you boys stay out here and don't get into trouble! Why don't you go play with Virgil?"

"Virgil's no fun!" Remus whined. "He just cries a lot!"

"He likes colouring, why don't you go get a colouring book?"

"We've already coloured in all of them!" Roman replied.

"Then watch a Christmas movie! You can never run out of Christmas movies!"

"Can we watch Bad Santa?" Remus asked excitedly.

"No," Patton firmly denied. He softly sighed and turned back toward Logan with a sympathetic smile. "You can wrap the last present yourself, right? These two are clearly gonna be a handful."

"I got it," Logan replied with a grin. "No worries, go take care of our demon spawn."

"Hey!" Remus shouted. "I'll have you know, I am full-on devil spawn! No damn second-rate demon has anything to do with me!"

"Watch your language," Patton reprimanded as he ushered the twins out of the doorway, though he was still smiling as he closed the door.

"Janus is allowed to say that word!" Remus fired back.

"Mind you, Janus is also fifteen years old."

"That is age discrimination, and I'm not here for it."

Patton sat the boys down at the couch in the living room and got all of the Christmas movies they had on DVD. He had them look through the options, and there was a bit of bickering over what to watch, which Patton kind of anticipated. After a few minutes of debating between Jim Carrey's How The Grinch Stole Christmas and Disney's The Santa Clause, they managed to compromise on The Polar Express.

Patton went to get Virgil, who was playing with his Code-a-Pillar Twist toy, and asked if he wanted to watch the movie, to which he excitedly nodded his head. Patton carried him out of his room, going to Janus’s door and knocking. He opened the door and popped his head in when Janus replied with a quick "What?"

"We're gonna watch The Polar Express, you wanna join us?" he asked, Janus looking up from his phone. He thought for a brief second.

"Will there be hot chocolate?" he asked, Patton grinning.

"You better believe it!"

"Then who am I to decline?"

Janus grabbed his forearm crutches and followed Patton out to the living room, where Roman and Remus were in the process of building a castle out of the DVD cases. Janus sat in the armchair by the couch and leaned his crutches against the wall behind him as Patton set the four year old down by the twins.

"You boys want hot chocolate?" he asked, Roman and Remus gasping loudly and quickly yelling yes.

"Marshmallows, too?" Virgil asked quietly.

"So many marshmallows, kiddo." Patton smiled and kissed Virgil's head. "Marshmallows for everyone I'm guessing?"

Once it was confirmed that everyone was taking marshmallows, he went to the kitchen to prepare their drinks, including his own. As Patton began heating up the milk and water — as there was a variety of preferences — Logan walked out of the bedroom with a handful of wrapped presents to go under the tree.

"Oh, Lo-Lo!" Patton called. "You want hot chocolate?"

"I'm good, Patton, thank you."

"Okay, do you need help with presents?"

"Focus on the hot chocolate, Patton," Logan replied with a grin as he carried the presents to the living room where the tree was, the children getting rather excited.

"Are those mine?" Remus shouted.

"I bet they're mine, they're ginormous!" Roman exclaimed.

"Mine!" Virgil cheered, making grabby hands towards the presents as Logan set them down. He smirked at them as he stood upright and adjusted his glasses.

"They're Janus’s."

"Ha, suck it," Janus teased with a grin as he scrolled through his phone, Remus and Roman both making offended scoffs.

"I better have a million presents!" Remus declared, Janus rolling his eyes.

"You wish."

Once all the presents were under the tree and the hot chocolate was made, it was finally time to start the movie. The twins sat on the couch between Logan and Patton, Remus next to Logan and Roman next to Patton. Virgil sat in Janus’s lap, who was helping him not make a mess. Patton's heart swelled at the sight and he couldn't help but smile.

This was going to be Janus’s first Christmas with them since they began fostering him in June. He'd gone from foster home to foster home for quite some time now, and had mentioned it probably being due to his amputated leg. Patton didn't want to believe it was true, but didn't really know what to believe.

They were more than ready to properly adopt Janus and make him an official member of the Sanders family. It should happen soon, if all went according to plan.

Once The Polar Express was over, the kids demanded another Christmas movie. Even Janus seemed to like the idea of another movie. When Patton asked what everyone wanted to watch, Virgil quickly yelled "Jack and Sally!" which everyone knew exactly what he meant.

"Ugh, really?" Remus complained. "The Nightmare Before Christmas? Again?"

"It's an amazing movie, Remus!" Roman declared. "Don't you dare insult Disney!"

"We watch that movie all the time! Christmas, Halloween, Virgil's birthday, basically all year long! Let's mix it up with some Die Hard!"

"That's not even a Christmas movie!"

"Is too!"

"Boys!" Logan interrupted their bickering. "We are not watching Die Hard, and since you two picked out The Polar Express, I think Virgil and Janus should pick out what we watch next."

"Jack and Sally!" Virgil demanded, clapping his hands together.

"Uh... I'm good with The Nightmare Before Christmas. Sounds lit."

"You're only saying that 'cause Virgil's your favourite!" Remus accused, pointing a finger at Janus.

"Nuh-uh, I'm his favourite!" Roman argued.

"No way!"

"Yes way!"

"You're both wrong," Janus interjected with a smirk. "Logan's my favourite."

"What? No fair!" Roman exclaimed. "I demand a recount!"

"That's— that does not mean what you think it means, Roman."

"I don't care! Recount!"

"I'm just gonna put the movie in now," Patton said with a small laugh, getting up to put the DVD in.

As the movie began, Virgil could barely sit still, clapping his little hands together with the biggest smile on his face. Then the iconic song began, and even Remus couldn't help but join in on the singing. Logan, however, remained silent, merely watching his family with a small smile on his face.

Seeing the way they all smiled so freely, especially Janus, who usually had his guard up, filled Logan's heart with pure, unadulterated joy. He wouldn't trade any of this for the world.

By the time the movie came to an end, everyone had fallen asleep except for Logan. Janus was curled up in the armchair with Virgil in his arms, Remus had his head resting on Logan's thigh, and an obnoxiously snoring Patton had Roman curled up in his lap, gripping his shirt ever so slightly.

Logan turned off the TV with the remote before carefully scooping Remus up in his arms and getting to his feet. He gently tapped Patton's shoulder.

"Patton, sweetheart," he murmured. Patton inhaled sharply as he lifted his head to look up at Logan with bleary eyes. "Patton, I love you, but you sound like a lawnmower."

Patton blinked a few times, yawning as he rubbed his eye.

"Huh?" he muttered, Logan quietly huffing in amusement.

"Never mind. We need to take the kids to bed."

Patton's half awake mind seemed to finally register the sleeping eight year old in his lap. He lifted Roman in his arms and he and Logan carried the twins to their room, laying them down in their respective beds and tucking them in with a kiss on the forehead.

"I'll get Janus and Virgil, you go to bed," Logan said softly, resting a hand on Patton's bicep.

"You sure?" Patton mumbled.

"Yeah, I got it. I'll join you in a minute."

"Mmkay." Patton pressed a quick kiss to Logan's lips. "Love you."

"Love you too."

As Patton went to bed, Logan went back to the living room, smiling slightly to himself as he gently took Virgil from Janus’s arms. Janus stirred slightly, stretching his arms and looking up at Logan.

"You should get to bed," Logan said softly.

"Nah," Janus replied, curling up a bit more and getting comfortable. "I'm good right here."

Logan scoffed amusedly and shook his head as he carried Virgil to his room, tucking him into bed and kissing his forehead.

He went back to the living room and grabbed Janus’s crutches before carefully lifting him from the chair. He flailed a bit in surprise before wrapping his arms around Logan's neck, his face turning beet red as Logan carried him to his bedroom.

"Whatever, way to flex your muscles on me, old man," Janus grumbled, Logan softly laughing.

He walked into Janus’s room and set him down on his bed, propping his crutches between the nightstand and the bed where they usually resided when not in use.

"You didn't have to carry me," Janus said as he crossed his arms.

"I didn't have to. But I did it anyway. Goodnight, Janus." Janus didn't respond as Logan turned off the light and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

He went to his and Patton's room, where Patton was already asleep. He took off his glasses and set them on the nightstand before removing his shirt and jeans, climbing into bed by Patton's side.

That night he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

Home For Christmas taglist: @mostpeopleannoyne @penguinkool @mavi-main @luckybanana948 @angels-and-dreams

#ts home for christmas #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logicality #logicality fanfiction

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adrischrv · 4 years ago

Text

REGNUM [L.H] - Chapter 3

Author´s note: Hi! Here´s the third chapter! English is not my first language so lemme know if there are any mistakes.

Word count: 2,902

Introduction. C1. C2.

The morning after the ball was quiet. The lack of Queen Susan’s joyful life was as strange as the King’s laughter and everyone in the palace could feel it. Even, though I only knew them for a short time. I remembered finding my mother talking on the phone with the Queen about nonsense to serious business matters, I was infinitely grateful to the Queen for taking my mother away from a couple of lessons.

Gardenstone has a particular way of saying goodbye to its loved ones: people would write a word describing such people on an acorn, they would gather and water them all over the forest. A nice old lady explained to me that different trees sprouted like the oak tree and when they grew up a person was also born with the written word in a way that reflected the impact you have on the world even after you die. She could assure me that people with good intentions would come out of the words of Queen Susan, King Robert, and Prince Jake.

“Fifty delivered and about… sixty more arrived.”

Luke nodded, tired. I left the piles of papers on the big desk in front of him and took a seat on the other side.

After he had been appointed King and after the farewell, thousands of petitions from citizens and nobles had arrived in the early hours waiting to be authorized. Seeing the load of papers, I offered to help Luke and avoid the collapse of my neighboring country. My mother decided to do the same on her own by talking to the dukes and duchesses who feared for the future of Gardenstone as it was justly uncertain.

“I slept for two hours… and everyone wants me to approve petitions, I don’t understand why.”

Luke had spoken more to himself, but that didn’t stop me from laughing a little.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, paying attention for the first time all morning.

“Of course they want you to approve petitions. They’re taking advantage. Since your father, may he rest in peace, is no longer the king, they expect you to approve everything he didn’t. But I hope you have not approved many, parliament will have a lot to discuss and it will probably be exhausting.”

Luke was stunned, looking for the right way to hide his inexperience.

“It’s parliament’s job, exhausting or not.”

“They wouldn’t give the same importance to every role and something important might be disapproved of or something unimportant might be approved, it’s risky.”

“If you know so much, why don’t you do it?”

Clearly, the regulation of his tone had a flaw causing it to come out more aggressively than planned.

“It would be a pleasure. I firmly believe that I can do it better than you, Your Majesty.”

Luke let go of the pen in his hand and crossed his arms. If I didn’t think it was funny I’d say he was trying to be intimidating but suddenly he relaxed his gaze.

“I’d like to check that out. Oh, and also about approving petitions, princess.”

I clenched my fists but like him I relaxed my gaze, ready to give an intelligent answer.

“I’m sorry I dared to think I was talking to a king, when it is clear the long road you have to be considered one.”

The slamming of the door interrupted Luke from saying - surely - something stupid.

“Busy, Your Majesty?”

Calum’s brown hair peeked out, smiling at the sight of me.

“Go ahead, did you get any sleep, Cal?”

Calum snorted at Luke’s question, taking a seat next to me at the desk, and took an exhausted stance, dropping his hands down his pants.

“Are you kidding? Mom keeps calling, I had to turn off my Jhin just like Dad. Who, by the way, sent me to find out if you had authorized his request.”

The “Jhin”, modern devices from cell phones that had the option to call among other things, and characterized by a function that allowed an easy finding of information about any individual, in the past there were social networks that were eliminated in the International Revolution and changed by the Jhin.

“You find it in this rubble and I’ll authorize all the requests you want” Luke sighed leaning back in his seat and pointing to the papers in front of him.

Calum looked at him sorrowfully, none of them in the mood. Said and done, Calum managed to find the petition he recognized by the notorious “H” for “Hood” in one corner of the paper, leaving it on top of all the others.

Luke took it, signed it without hesitation, and took a second to read.

“You should read it and then sign it, you know?” Calum mentioned, gaining the satisfaction I hoped to get from correcting Luke.

“You have my absolute trust, you know?” Luke replied in the same tone without taking his eyes off the document, opened his big eyes, and handed it to Calum who accepted it immediately. “Are you my Diplomatic Adviser? What about your father?”

“After what happened last night, he thinks it’s time for me to take his place. I would eventually, but it seems to him that I need to be by your side now to support you and test my training,“ Calum replied, noting the anguish in his friend’s expression.

I had nothing to say so I got up and directed my interest to the books on the shelves pretending not to pay attention.

“I suppose your father went with your mother to his village…”

“You guess right,” Calum paused for a moment. “Hey, I know you’re not well. It must be hard to lose your family… I can’t imagine waking up without my parents and my sister… but you’re not alone, I’m here if you need to talk.”

Luke smiled sideways, quietly accepting his proposal.

“You need to take a break, it’s all happening so fast,“ Calum said, almost reading his mind. “The kingdom needs you to be in good shape.”

Frustrated Luke rose from his seat to sit in the corner of the desk.

“I don’t know what else the kingdom needs, and that will be your first task. Also, stop sending in paperwork, close down the possibility of sending in a petition until further notice.”

I was going to tell him how reckless it was to shut down the arrival of petitions but I finally stopped to think about the matter I had provisionally ignored: I had no power in Gardestone and I didn’t know what was going to happen to the alliance.

“His Majesty, His Highness, young Hood” A guard appeared at the door with cards in hand which he dealt to the three of them. “Their Majesties King Ashton and Queen Lauren of Lauxwell would like you to attend a dinner they have arranged for themselves tonight.“

“Are those harpies still in my palace?” Luke raised an eyebrow. The poor guard did nothing but nod. “Get rid of them. I want them out.”

“Are you crazy?” exclaimed Calum, clearing his throat as he realized the mistake he had just made. “I mean, are you sure you want the Irwins out? As your royal advisor, I don’t think it’s true to your word, your majesty. King Ashton won the duel and the terms-”

Luke raised a hand to stop Calum from talking.

“Guard, I need privacy, if it’s not too much trouble…”

The Guard bade farewell with a bow.

“You too, Princess,” said Luke, “you can request as many maids as you need for tonight, but that’s no reason for you to stay here another second.”

I blinked uncertainly as to how to respond to his insinuation… or insult. I was still debating what was most appropriate.

“Did I not make myself clear? -Or would you rather stay here and stare at me a little longer?”

“I can’t ask my eyes to meet this turtle,” I answered, in the most pleasant tone I could find and advanced to the door.

“Are you sure? I can turn around if you need to,“ I heard him scream from the hall.

Halfway down the hall, I decided that I had to set certain limits for “his majesty” if I was going to live with him and his insufferable attitude for one more second. With that in mind, I changed my direction back to the office and stopped short when I heard my name in the conversation.

“-I’m serious, Cal Amberly is unbearable!”

Eavesdropping had never been something I enjoyed, much less needed. I knew there was nothing good about it… and yet I stuck my back to the wall outside the office.

“-the whole kingdom is depressed. Just by spreading the word about Princess of Maredale’s temporary stay they have begun to produce the best quality products, the children went out to play again” Calum debated. “Your people feel the comfort they have not received from their king.”

“Is that what they want? Miss “I got a lesson in something important” and “I can run a country on my own”?” Luke asked, trying to imitate my voice. “Nonsense! I bet she can’t choose which well-known book to read without help, so many classes have been useless if she can’t speak for herself and waits for her mother to do all the work for her. A babbler! that’s what she is. Even that Ashton idiot has more courage than she does.”

I thought I’d walk through that door to tell him how wrong he was. I could even make a scene and choose to tear all of his fine clothes into pieces that would be scattered all over the palace.

But I didn’t. Because deep down I knew he was right.

I spat cautiously. My eyes were threatening to drop the tears.

“Please, Luke. You don’t know what you’re saying,“ Calum replied. “Queen Elizabeth is going to be back any minute and I don’t think she’d like to hear the way you express about her daughter.“

“If the Queen does anything, it will only show what a coward the Princess is.”

Without realizing it, I was walking with a strong step to my room.

Luke was telling the truth, what was the point of taking classes and lectures if I couldn’t speak for myself?

Ashton had said it too, though much more subtly. He implied that I could take charge of my destiny and it must not be like my mother had planned all along.

Courage- I didn’t have it. I wanted to find it and show it off like a new toy, but that’s not how it works.

“Princess, I was looking for you.”

Lidia interrupted my walk into the room, looked into my eyes that were probably already a little red and wet. She gave me a warm smile and took my hands and led me into the room. I sat down on the edge of the bed and talked, holding back my sobbing.

“Lidia, I was about to do the same thing, but…”

She hissed as her hands were lost in the closet.

“Quiet, from the look of your beautiful face I can tell you heard something…”

Lidia stood in front of me with a bright ruby red dress in her hands, a golden ribbon, the colors of the Gardenstone, all around. The silk fabric adjusted perfectly to my body, falling to my feet with a discreet opening at the side of my right leg; the waves of my hair embraced me. Suddenly it did not seem that I had been crying for the fool that the King was.

“….and by the look of you in this dress, I can tell you will shut the same mouths that said something about you.”

The main dining room shone on its own even though the green decoration was quite noticeable, it looked like Christmas. The red walls looked soft, smooth, and warm, I liked to think that and the spruce chairs had been Queen Susan’s idea. In the center I expected a long table with food, a lot of exquisite food, I didn’t think I had seen those delicacies before, I assumed they were typical of Lauxwell. Around the table, the guests - mostly servants of the palace - had already begun to enjoy the food, while the nobles were talking and eating slowly.

I took a breath, looked up, and entered the dining room.

Lauren saw me first, smiled for a second, and went on with her meal. At her side, Ashton adjusted his tie and looked at me for a few seconds directly in the eyes as if he wanted to tell me something. My mother, who had returned from her talks, nodded approvingly. Calum took his attention off a plate, looked at me, and elbowed Luke. Luke did not flinch.

“Sorry I’m late, go on with your dinner.“

“Princess, please sit next to me.” Ashton stood up, offering a chair.

“No, sit next to me.” Luke did the same. “You are a guest in my kingdom, after all.“

They shared a challenging look, Luke just wanted to annoy Ashton and have the satisfaction of being able to ignore me all night.

Luke’s eyes were fixed on me, seeking a truce not to favor Ashton.

“I am flattered, your Majesties,” I smiled innocently, “but I find the company of King Ashton more… appropriate.”

I took a seat next to Ashton. He politely placed a glass of red wine in my hands, for a moment our fingers brushed and I felt my cheeks warm slightly.

“Your Majesty Luke,” called my mother, “I am proud to report that all the dukes and duchesses are now calm again in their respective states. I have said some flattering things about you…”

“Thank you, your maje-”

“I hope I’m not wrong…”

I looked for my mother’s look on the other side of the table along with the opportunity to tell her that she was wrong, so wrong…

“I hope my daughter has contributed something today.”

Too late to talk about Luke.

I alerted the blond man’s intentions, as dirty as mine a few seconds ago. He had the luxury of taking a sip of red wine before responding.

“I found the company of Princess Amberly a bit… “ He looked me straight in the eye “…Comfortable.”

I took a bite of my food, waiting for him to cut off eye contact. He didn’t. The urge to stick something into those blue eyes increased with every second…

“If you find it so comfortable I can suggest that you keep it with you for a while longer.”

My mother’s words not only interrupted the discreet discussion between our eyes but also took us both by surprise.

“What do you mean by that, Mother?” I asked.

“I am going back to Maredale, and seeing first-hand the opportunities you have at Gardenstone to demonstrate your potential, I think it is necessary for you to stay here. If His Majesty Luke approves, of course.”

“Of course I approve, Queen Elizabeth. It will be a real… pleasure.”

I didn’t look at Luke, I didn’t look at anyone. I released all frustration of such a decision at the plate in front of me.

Lauren told a story about a night she had decided to stand guard at a volcano on the Lauxwell border near a funeral home. She described it as a bleak, lifeless place too cold for even the heat of the lava to drive away. A giant beast with big legs and a wet muzzle with traces of blood was found, a wolf big enough for her to have faced it alone… but she had done it, she had hunted the beast and divided the skin among her friends in her kingdom. There was something so horrific about her story that made it interesting and kept us all at the table expectant and eager to hear more.

Throughout the dinner I felt an extra pair of eyes on me, I had the luxury of finding the owner, and the simple fact that they belonged to a certain self-centered brat brought a smile to my face.

“-that’s how I took my father to the bandits who threatened the kingdom. They will rot forever, end.” She took her cup up and drank it to the bottom. Everyone around her applauded, sighs of relief and fear sounded as well.

“Thank you, sister. With these stories full of courage, we thank you for attending this dinner.”

Ashton extended a hand indicating to the servants to leave the dining room nicely, some stopped and thanked him, others took leftovers from the table mistakenly hidden between napkins and took them away.

“Ridiculous, we have never forbidden them to eat. I guess we’ll have to start.“

Luke mumbled to Calum, he laughed but his face was afraid, he thought Luke was capable of it.

Seconds later the two left the dining room followed by Lauren who walked with her head held high despite being under the influence of alcohol. I admired her in silence.

A black hair stood in my way, accompanied by a wide smile.

“Amberly, would you accompany me on a night walk in the gardens?”

“Of course.”

Our arms intertwined, I tried not to blush at the sudden closeness as we got lost in the garden with the moon guiding our every step.

#5SOS #5 seconds of summer #5sosfanfic #luke hemmings #luke hemmings fanfiction #luke hemmings fic #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings series #luke fanfic #king!luke #readregnum #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fanfic #michael clifford fanfic #calum hood fic #michael clifford #calum hood #5sosfam

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dingoat · 5 years ago

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Character meme woop woop, let’s try and get this one done before it gets lost in the endless scroll of tumblr notifications and I forget it exists haha. Tagged by @melissagt and @greencrusader13, thankyou thankyou! Maybe if I have energy to spare tomorrow I’ll do it for another character but of course I’ll start with my Number One Girl!

GENERAL

name : Ahuska Crow (in most realities), maiden name Charka, birth name Tala Kit’kota (unknown to her) gender : Female age : constantly up for debate place of birth : Ruweln, as far as she knows spoken languages : Basic, Mando’a, some sketchy Selonian and making an effort to learn Huttese. sexual orientation : Wouldn’t rule anything out, but too loyal to experiment occupation : I guess technically, as far as how she actually earns credits is concerned, she’s a mercenary? Animal trainer/stock keeper isn’t terribly wrong at the moment, either.

APPEARANCE

eye color : Sky blue hair color : Off-white height : Average scars and burn : If you shaved her, you might find a few little scars here and there, including a disturbingly humanoid bite mark on her ankle. Werewolf au, she’s positively littered with scars, with particularly nasty scarring at the back of her neck. overweight : Nah, but will quickly gain an extra soft layer if she takes it easy for any stretch of time. underweight : No

FAVORITE

color : Autumn music genre : Alternative/folk, with a growing fondness for country that she tries very hard to deny is a thing tv show : Wildlife documentaries, saturday morning cartoons, and fantasy holodramas (especially if they star Ziminder Antilles) food : hand picked wild berries, fancy chocolates, and womp rat chomps. Still chasing the ever-elusive pink iced donut. drink : CAF. Strawberry milkshakes. Sweet cocktails. book : ....this is one I’m going to have to think on! Probably some sort of animal adventure novel though.

HAVE THEY

passed university : Haha nope, no formal education had sex : Eeehehehehe had sex in public : Definitely in public places, though probably not while any general public has actually been around haha. gotten pregnant/gotten someone pregnant : Noooope kissed a boy : Yep! kissed a girl : Not that I’m aware of, but pieces of her backstory have yet to be revealed to me so who knows! gotten tattoos : A permadye job, yeah, which is the most feasible Bothan equivalent! had a broken heart : Oh, poor teenage girl, yes. been in love : HEAD. OVER. HEELS. I have yet to see a version of her that doesn’t fall HARD when she falls for someone. stayed up for longer than 24 hours : hahahaha yes and thank the stars she was caught out before it became a habit

ARE THEY

a virgin : *eyebrow waggle* a cuddler : All the time a lot a kisser : Oh yes! scared easily : Not really, but she spends so much time in harrowing situations she is nonetheless scared often jealous easily : Ahahaha jealousy is one of her defining character flaws trustworthy : If you’re someone she’s loyal to, 100%. But she’ll lie through her teeth and break promises to anyone else to protect those who matter. dominant : Sometimes *eyebrow waggle* submissive : Sometimes in love : Absolutely single : Nope!

RANDOM QUESTIONS

have they harmed themselves : Only by accident, unless you want to include her fledgeling stim habit that got nipped in the bud before she really suffered for it thought of suicide : No way attempted suicide : Hell no wanted to kill someone : Ahahahaha. Ha. Ha. Mmmhmm. Sometimes even gotten to follow through. rode a horse : She’s ridden a lot of space animals. Maybe one of these days I’ll let her go to Dathomir and she can ride an actual horse! Elder Scrolls AU owns two horses have / had a job : Sorta kinda but her lifestyle is very unconventional have any fears : Yeah, but mostly all the standard fears of loss/lonliness/failure etc and a little PTSD that can be triggered by unexpected explosive sounds and/or feelings of helplessness/loss of control of a situation. She has an irrational dislike/discomfort around a particular species of Concordian wading bird, and a very rational dislike/discomfort around Bizarre Force Related Nonsense.

FAMILY

sibling(s) : None that she is currently aware of >.> parents : Sana (deceased) and Jinn Charka (adoptive mothers). Blood relatives currently unknown, but odds are good they’re Bothans. children : Nela, formally adopted via Mandalorian tradition pets : Pexu the nexu. Boy the varactyl. Dinii and Duraan, ottas. Percival, arkanian dragon. Responsible for twelve scout varactyls in training.

EVERYONE I KNOW has probably already been tagged hahaha ummm but lemme throw in @askshivanulegacy @kaosstar @cinlat @kunoichi-ume @humanrevolt @abbienormal for good measure

#character meme #ahuska asks

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themissinghippogriff · 6 years ago

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|Wanderer| {Fred W. x Reader}

Description: Reader is an American Witch who happens to stumble upon Fred while walking through Diagon Alley.

Word Count: 2.3k+

(Y/N) had graduated from Ilvermorny that Spring and hadn't thought twice before packing up her things and seeing the world, which thankfully wasn't as expensive as it was for No-Mags. She had already been all over the U.S and some parts of South America and Mexico, but she wanted to go farther.

She had ended up in England during October, and of course, she visited all the No-Mag sites before moving towards the Wizarding ones.

(Y/N) kicked leaves in the air as she made her way down the street toward the Leakey Cauldron, which looked like a wreck by the way. She opened the door to reveal a dark and shabby bar, but somehow to her, it looked actually rather cozy, but she wasn't here to see England's oldest pub- she was here because of what it hid. She approached the bar and a man named Tom greeted her.

" 'Ello how may I help you?" he asked while cleaning a glass.

(Y/N) smiled, " I'm trying to get to Diagon Alley,"

Tom nodded before gesturing her to follow him to a brick wall. He pulled out his wand and tapped the bricks and just like that they shifted aside to reveal a bustling street.

" Thank you!" she said before stepping through the entrance.

(Y/N) felt herself smile as she took it all in. There were witches and wizards going about their day, many clad in bright neon colors. She began walking down the street, not really paying attention to where she was going.

She was too amazed by all the colors, smells, and exotic shops to realize she was about to walk straight into someone. With a yelp she fell to the ground, the person she bumped into doing the same but managed to catch themself.

" Blimey!" said a male voice.

(Y/N) looked up to see a redhaired guy turn around who was about the same age as she was. She felt her face begin to heat up upon realizing he was actually rather attractive, " I-I'm sorry!" she stuttered jumping up and brushing off her jeans, " I should've watched where I was going."

His lip curled slightly," Don't worry about it, it was truly an honor to get almost knocked over by you," he said smoothly.

(Y/N) felt a smile spread across her cheeks, " I'm (Y/N)," she said meeting his pale blue eyes with her (Y/E/C) one's.

He returned the smile, " Fred Weasley, and I'm guessing you're new here," he said in a playful tone.

She laughed lightly, " How observant of you," (Y/N) said sarcastically.

Fred looked around and a pale hand went to his neck, " Well eh- have you been to Diagon Alley before now? Because if not I could show you around if you want," he said, giving her an opportunity to decline and be on her way as it was pretty damn obvious she hadn't ever been here as she kept looking around, eyes full of wonder.

(Y/N) thought for a second before nodding, " Yeah, I'd like that."

Fred's face visibly brightened before he gestured to follow him, he turned around and began walking and she followed in beside him.

" I'm guessing you're just visiting." he quipped turning his head to yours.

(Y/N) nodded. " Yeah, I guess you could say that. I'm just a common wanderer."

A red eyebrow rose, " A wanderer? What do you mean?"

She puffed out her chest before saying, " I go where the wind takes me," she said in a serious tone, all the while trying her best to not double over laughing- Fred didn't share that same effort.

His laugh was warm and contagious, " T-the wind?!" he sputtered.

Unable to keep the smile off her face she laughed while nodding.

They both laughed their way to the ice cream parlor where Fred offered to pay for hers, which she allowed him do after he asked 20 times.

" Listen, Fred, I don't wanna keep you from your errands or whatever you were doing before I ran into you-"

Fred waved off her words with his hand, " Nah, I was just getting some fresh air, seeing what some of the vendors had. I actually own a shop with my brother here." he added as an afterthought.

(Y/N)'s eyes grew comically, " No way!," she said in amazement, " Screw seeing the rest of this place I wanna see your shop!"

Fred looked surprised but quickly shook it off with a laugh, " Alright Wanderer," he began getting up from his seat, " Let's go,"

In about ten minutes the two made their way down the twisting cobblestone road before ending up outside of a whimsical looking building with a huge WWW on the front.

" Welcome to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, my foreign friend, shall we go in," he said before guiding her inside the building.

(Y/N) gave an excited giggle as the both of them entered. Things were flying around the room, kids and young adults littered the place laughing, and a carbon copy of Fred was standing behind the register, ringing up a little girl and her mom.

" Why am I not surprised you own a joke shop," she said looking to Fred's look alike.

Fred only laughed, " Oi, Georgie!"

Fred's brother, George, turned to look at the two standing by the door, " You did not leave me to run this place alone to go pick up girls," he said with a glare that held no malice but only pure amusement.

(Y/N) felt her stomach flip at the accusation, " Is he the good looking one?" she teased walking further into the store.

Fred gave an indignant shout while George laughed, " You have keen eyes I'll give you that,..."

"(Y/N)," she said filling in his pause.

Fred only shook his head, " That fall to the ground must've damaged your eyesight or something," he said before putting his hand on the small of her back, " Lemme show you around,"

She felt her heart drop to her stomach as his warm hand guided her to a part of the shop that was cut off from the rest. It was rather dark and the two walked until it was almost completely dark.

" This here is an experiment we're doing, " he said flicking his wand. A soft light filled the room and he turned to her, " Watch this,"

Fred threw his wand up and with it went the light. The wand only stopped once it hit the ceiling which created a chain effect of swirls of color going down the walls.

(Y/N) gasped in awe, " This is amazing, " she breathed.

Fred only nodded before catching his wand, " I'm glad you think so," he hummed, watching her as she took in what was before her.

And as soon as it came the lights stopped automatically. Fred led her out of the corner, " If it's not to much trouble, would you like to go get a drink with me at the Leakey Cauldron, " he asked.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened before a smile spread across her face, " I'd love to,"

For the next two weeks (Y/N) and Fred saw each other every day and would go out for drinks with George or just by themselves. (Y/N) adored George but she enjoyed it when it was just her and Fred.

She was supposed to have left a week ago for France and Germany but she didn't. (Y/N) debated on telling Fred she would have to leave eventually, but what they had going was so amazing, how could she?

Hell, she couldn't even bring herself to buy a plane ticket out of here, so what should she do?

'Stay.' said a small voice inside her. And with every passing day, the more appealing that idea became, so here she was outside of WWW.

She stepped into the shop and walked over to where George was, " Hey is Fred here?" she asked looking around, trying to spot the other redhead.

George nodded, " Yeah he upstairs," he replied.

(Y/N) thanked him before going up the wooden steps and into the flat above the shop," Fred?" you called after stepping into the small living room.

"(Y/n)?" asked a familiar voice.

Fred emerged from one of the rooms with a box in his hands, " Hey, can we meet at my room at the Leakey Cauldon tonight?" she asked.

Fred sat the box down, " Yeah sure, is everything okay?" he asked before walking to her.

(Y/N) felt her eyes burn slightly, " I think I might be leaving soon, " she said quietly.

Fred stopped in his tracks, " What? You can't leave yet," he said crestfallen.

(Y/N) frowned, " I can't stay here, Freddie, I don't have a house or a job- and my funds are going to run out soon-"

" You can stay here," he said abruptly.

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped, " St-stay here?"

Fred's face became beet-red, " I-I mean I could help you find a place or something-," Fred stopped and his eyes went to his feet, " I'm sorry," he began, " But (Y/N), honestly, do you really want to leave," he said at last looking up, meeting her (Y/E/C) eyes with his blue ones.

" I-I-," her words were caught in her throat, " I... I don't think so,"

Fred took a step closer, " Can... can I hug you?" he asked, his face no longer red.

She nodded, and Fred practically scooped her up into his arms, " I... I like you a lot (Y/N), I know we haven't known each other long but I just... I don't know it's just this gut feeling I suppose." he said not really sure how to explain his feelings.

She only gripped him tighter, " I know what you mean, Freddie," she said inhaling his scent, clean laundry with a hint of cologne, " I feel the same."

Fred only buried his head in the crook of her neck, " Can I kiss you?" he whispered in her ear.

She pulled back slightly and smiled up at him, " You may,"

Fred chuckled before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss into (Y/N)'s lips. It felt as if that small kiss knocked all the air from her lungs and she found herself wrapping her arms around his neck and deepening the kiss.

She ran her hands through his soft hair and laughed lightly as he nipped her lip, " You have no idea how many times I've thought of doing this," he muttered.

She only giggled and planted a kiss on his cheek, " Probably just as much as I have,"

Christmas was coming up and Fred had invited (Y/N) to the Burrow for dinner. She had agreed, scared, but she wanted to meet his other brothers and sister.

She had only met George, and according to him Fred never shut up about her. Saying his mother was dying to meet ' Lil Freddie's girlfriend'. To which she commented on how he hadn't even asked her to be his girlfriend yet.

George only shrugged saying they pretty much were dating, which was true.

Fred had picked (Y/N) from her flat and apparated to outside his house, " Oh my God," she breathed looking at the cottage, " THIS PLACE LOOKS SO COOL!"

Fred only laughed, " C' mon love," he said putting an arm around her and pressing a kiss to her temple, " Let's go,"

The two began walking and before Fred could open the door they heard a woman yell, " RONALD WEASLEY GO CLEAN UP THE DEN! FRED'S GUEST IS COMING!"

Fred sighed before opening the door, and you giggled. In front of you too was a rather plump woman with red hair who was bustling about, placing dishes of food on the table.

" Hey, mum!" chirped Fred.

Molly Weasley only turned around, " Hello Fred dear," she said before turning back around and then stopping, " Fred!" she yelped turning back around and quickly making her way over to the both of you.

" Hello! Welcome! Please sit!" Molly said leading the two into the living room where a younger girl sat on the couch with a boy with jet black hair and a girl with bushy brown hair.

" You must be (Y/N)! Freddie has told us all about you!" she gushed enveloping the girl in question with a hug.

(Y/N) smiled, " It's great to meet you, Mrs. Weasley," she said taking a seat down next to Fred, " Your house is amazing," she added looking around at the cozy place.

Mrs. Weasley glowed, " Thank you, dear! Dinner will be soon!" she said walking back into the kitchen.

Fred only shook his head, " Oi Gin, Where's Ronny?"

Ginny shrugged, " Don't know, don't really care. It's nice to meet you (Y/N)," the younger girl said, " Fred never shuts up about you,"

Fred blushed but (Y/N) only laughed, " You can't really blame him, I'm damn cool,"

Ginny laughed before introducing her to Harry and Hermione.

" So you went to school at Ilvermorny?" asked Hermione.

(Y/N) nodded, " I did,"

Hermione asked question after question- which she answered to the best of her ability until, Harry, tapped his friend on the shoulder with a chuckle.

" Let her breathe 'Mione," he said with a small smile.

All of the sudden Ron came in," Nice to meet you, I'm Ron," but before he could even sit down his mother called him into the kitchen.

Fred began telling everyone of his new product which they all stopped to listen. (Y/N) smiled and lent against him as he talked. She felt right at home, the warmth of this home- of this family- enveloped her and she decided, she didn't have to wander anymore.

#fred x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #american reader #fred x american reader

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chunkecheeks · 5 years ago

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a full summary of Joker (2019) because god I wish it was a joke

Okay so... lemme dump all this bullshit under a cut

if you want to know how this movie actually is without all the pain of sitting down for 2 hours feeling like you’re trapped in a very uncomfortable conversation then here you go! (warning for gun violence and inaccurate mental illness stuff)

Joker opens with the Joker (whose name is arthur) putting on clown makeup and manipulating his mouth to be a grin or frown with his fingers. This goes on for just long enough to feel uncomfortable. Joker cries.

Cut to Joker standing outside a shop in full clown getup with a sign advertising a business. A bunch of teens run by and steal his sign so he chases them into an alleyway where they smack him with the sign and then do this to him:

Also it’s revealed he has a laughing condition which I guess is a real condition but I highly doubt the depiction in this movie is accurate bc none of the ways they handle mental illness is accurate.

Arthur lives with his mother and has a weird Norman Bates esque relationship with her. He loves her a lot. This is important information for later when Really Dumb plot shit happens

So arthur is getting bullied by Mean Teenz and another dude at his clown agency just gives him a gun to protect himself. Guns are (obviously) not allowed to be carried on the job but the guy is like “no one has to know” Later Arthur is in the elevator with a cute girl who lives in his apartment building. She tries to make small talk with him and when the elevator stalls she mimes putting a gun to her head in jest. After they get off the elevator arthur does this back in a really exaggerated and uncomfortable way and she awkwardly smiles at him. Apparently he’s now in love

The next day he stalks this girl. That night she comes to his door and is like “hey are u talking me” and he’s like “haha yeah” and she’s like “okay cool i like u now”

Arthur goes to perform as a clown at a childrens hospital and then gun falls out of his pants and then he gets fired

Still in full clown suit many many hours later arthur rides the subway. A girl is getting harassed by 3 dudes. There is no reason for her to even be in this scene. I guess they were trying to build these 3 dudes up as bad guys but she looks to arthur for help and he just starts his nervous laughing thing and she leaves the subway train. The 3 dudes start bullying arthur and arthur opens fire on them MULTIPLE time. One escapes the train into the (conveniently empty) station and arthur shoots him multiple times. this part- god I wish i was fucking funny enough to write something like this, I was choking in the theater trying not to laugh because it was dead quiet but i was in TEARS

After murdering three guys arthur enters a public restroom. He hyperventilates for like a second AND THEN STARTS DOING AN INTERPRETIVE DANCE! This felt like it went on for five minutes but it was probably more like 1. But that seems to be a trend with the whole movie because it felt like it took me several years to sit through it.

After this he goes back to his apartment, knocks on the cute girl’s door, and when it opens he forcefully kisses her. She kisses him back because that’s totally not unwelcome and disgusting or anything (this is later apparently something that never happened but it doesn’t make it any less gross to watch in the moment)

The joker killing those three dudes sets off a revolution?? cause they were “rich”? They weren’t like CEOs or big figures in the economic world, they weren’t even rich enough to not have jobs or have their own businesses, they were just employees of Thomas Wayne??? And from what it seems it doesn’t look like the fact they were assholes is known by the general public. Like... I don’t think the murder of three random semi rich dudes would start an eat-the-rich style revolution. If it was like thomas wayne himself then yeah you can go for that angle but the glorification of Joker’s murders doesn’t seem logical

So joker tries doing standup comedy and sucks real hard

It’s revealed that Joker is Batman’s half brother so he goes to the Wayne’s house and does magic tricks for Bruce who is a little kid at this point and then he... sticks his fingers in Bruce’s mouth to make him smile??? for a long amount of time? and bruce never reacts. Also he chokes out a butler (im assuming alfred but he’s never named) in front of Bruce and then runs off

His mom has a stroke while he’s out and he finds out his mom was in an asylum for a while and he goes there and grabs her file and finds out that she was in there for schizophrenia and because her boyfriend abused both her and Arthur and he doesn’t remember this. He then goes to the hospital and, despite all the buildup of him loving his mother and never doubting her and believing her side of the story, assumes the schizophrenia thing makes it true that she was lying to him about thomas wayne being his dad and smothers her with a pillow. There’s a heart monitor that goes crazy while she’s being smothered but instead of flatlining when she dies it just shuts off? he’s never caught for this

He breaks into the apartment of the cute girl (who he has gone on several dates with at this point) and it’s revealed that their relationship never happened to emphasize that he’s CrAzY!! OOOOH! no surprise all of the mental illness stuff they try to pull in this is inaccurate, based off stereotypes, and as someone with psychosis it’s downright insulting.

Arthur then goes home and there’s an entire scene of him pulling everything out of his fridge and then crawling inside and the shot of the closed fridge lasts, again, an awkward amount of time.

He gets invited onto his favorite talk show because the talk show host saw his shitty standup and thought it would be funny if he got him on the show

He gets in full joker paint and also paints his tongue to remind the audience WHOA! THIS GUY IS CRAZY!

The clown who gave him the gun and another clown who’s a little person (and frankly only in the movie so they can make garbage jokes at his expense) come over bc they heard his mom died and then he kills the clown that gave him the gun

He goes dancing down the stairs like in that horrible trailer and the detectives looking for the clown who killed the subway dudes see him and are like “yeah okay that’s the guy” and chase him

He gets to the show and forcefully kisses a woman on air (for a very uncomfortable amount of time! again! also no one does anything the audience just cheers and the talk show host is like “haha wow what an entrance”) and then he makes a shitty joke about a dead kid and everyone is like hm that’s bad don’t joke about that and since the director of this film is one of those “political correctness ruined comedy! i can’t joke about anything anymore!” type guys I feel like this is a very self inserted gripe of his

He announces on live tv he killed the subway dudes and doesn’t get arrested instead the talk show host just like... tries to debate him

and then he goes “what do you get when you cross a mentally ill loner with a society that abandons him? you get what you deserve!” and shoots the talk show host. That’s the worst line I have ever heard in any movie ever

This sets off a riot and after joker gets arrested his supporters free him then lay his unconscious body on the hood of a cop car and crowd around him like he’s jesus

Bruce Wayne’s parents get killed in the meantime and then joker wakes up and does his interpretive dance on the hood of the car while everyone cheers

The movie ends with him in the asylum where he then kills another person and escapes

I don’t know what the end credits scene was because I could not take any more of this

#ghost talk

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hispeculiartreasure · 6 years ago

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All We’ve Got is Time - Chapter Five | B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

AU: If They’d Survived/Post-War/Window Washer!Bucky Barnes

Rating: Teen

Word count: 3,686

Chapter 5/24

Warnings: Moments of angst, allusions to PTSD, PTSD episode and symptoms

AN: Y’all have been teased enough. The moment is finally here and I was tingly all over writing this chapter. Lemme know your thoughts! My inbox is always open for squealing. Sorry for the dip into angst, but this is where the story is taking me. As always, thank you to each and every one of you who is reading, liking, commenting, and reblogging. You’re making this journey so much fun for me. Enjoy. 💖

*Sidenote: I’ll be posting on Thursday nights from here on out, for a lot of

Chapter Four

‘All We’ve Got is Time’ Masterlist

Seven o’clock on the dot Saturday night you climb the stairs of the familiar subway stop. The hustle and bustle of the city’s nightlife fills your ears as your feet hit the pavement - your mind echoes a similar frenzy. You’d read Bucky’s note a thousand times, had spent all day Friday debating whether or not to go on this date. Every time you made up your mind to stay home, his face interrupted those thoughts. You relived the butterflies you felt when you shared your name with him on the windowpane. You saw his cheeky smirk as he complimented you. You smile at the image of him flipping Anderson’s office the bird. Him laughing when you had done it the first time. A laugh you discovered you were desperate to hear. There was something about this man that drew you like a damn magnet.

Passing your work building, the anticipation you’ve been keeping at bay all day threatens to break free. Your roommate hadn’t helped matters.

Debbie asked a million questions while placing tidy rolls in your hair. This guy is a window washer? And he snuck into your work and left you a note? You’ve never even had a real conversation with him? How do you know he’s not a weirdo? Do you have any mutual friends? What kind of a name is Bucky? What’s his last name? Where are you meeting him? Do you want me to follow you to make sure you’re safe?

You’d sighed deeply, making a mentally note to learn how to do your own hair as soon as possible. Yes, he’s a window washer. He didn’t sneak in, he spoke with the office manager. We’ve had conversations, just nonverbal ones. Honestly I don’t know that he’s not a weirdo, that’s why I’m going on a first date. No mutual friends. It’s probably a nickname or his parents are just that creative. Don’t know his last name, I’ll find out tonight. It’s a restaurant right down the street from work. No, Debbie, I do not want you to follow me, relax.

Doing your best to weave your way through the heavy foot-traffic, you catch a glimpse of Bucky standing in front of the restaurant. The nerves crawl their way into your throat and for a second you consider turning around to go home. You’d never officially given him confirmation that you’d be here; he’d trusted that you’d see the note and show up if you wanted to, right? But then you hear Suzy in the back of your mind - What’ve you got to lose?

Taking a deep breath you wave to Bucky over the crowd, catching his attention. Turning, a relieved yet humble smile looks out of place compared to his handsome suit. He was taller than you’d guessed - you suspected at one time he’d stood more confidently. He had also shaved, which only accentuated that razor-sharp jawline.

Each step forward your heart rate reaches a new level. Each step it registers exactly what you’re doing and who you’re with. Each step carries a weight you feel but don’t quite understand.

Finally you are toe-to-toe with each other, no glass between you.

“Hey there,” a smooth voice greets you.

That voice. That voice washes over you, taking your nerves and untangling them, soothing them, washing them out through your toes that are curling in your shoes. At the same time that voice hits you like a brick wall, stealing your breath, stunning you temporarily. You don’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t that.

“Hi,” you return, a little breathlessly.

“Everything okay?” His smile drops immediately, apprehension evident.

“Yeah, yes, everything’s great. I just. . .” you pause, thinking to yourself that your admission could be a very strange start to this date. “I just realized this is the first time I’ve heard your voice.”

Bucky’s shoulders relax slightly, a nervous grin back on his face. “I was thinking the same thing. Crazy to think this is the first actual conversation we’ve had.” You nod eagerly in agreement and hold his gaze for a few more seconds before both of you become aware that you are standing in the middle of the sidewalk staring at each other. “Um, shall we?” Bucky asks, opening the door to the restaurant for you.

A posh atmosphere was not what you expected to walk into. But here you were among fine china and luscious flower arrangements everywhere. You find yourself admiring the chandeliers and eyeing the well-dressed patrons as Bucky approaches the maître d'.

“Reservation for Barnes.”

Bucky Barnes, huh? Catchy.

“Oh, Mr. Barnes. Mr. Dugan called ahead and had a table specially prepared for you.”

“Uh, he did? That’s really not necessary.” Bucky sounds surprised, embarrassed even.

“Oh, we insist. He is an old family friend. This way, please.”

“Friends in high places, huh?” you whisper over your shoulder as Bucky trails behind you and the hostess.

“More like nosey friends in mediocre places,” he grumbles under his breath.

While it felt extremely high-class, the atmosphere was quiet: conversations were kept at a low volume almost like there was a reverence in the room. With an extraordinarily decadent table reserved in a corner you are seated in no time, which leaves the pair of you sitting idly, twirling thumbs and picking at nails after you’d read through the menu.

“So-”

“How-”

You both stop.

“I’m so-

“You go-”

Nervous energy in the form of laughter bubbles out of both of you.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky leans his elbows against the table, “I haven’t been on a date in a while. I guess I’m a little rusty.”

“It’s been a long time for me too,” you confess.

He takes a deep breath, finally making eye contact. “Okay, we’ll start simple. Where ya from?”

“Tarrytown, about 30 miles north of here. You?”

“Brooklyn, born and raised.”

You’re briefly interrupted by the waiter who promptly takes your order and leaves you to your devices.

“Alright, I have a question for you, Bucky.”

“I’m all yours.”

“My roommate made me promise to ask you about your name.”

He chuckles as he settles his napkin in his lap. “Figured that was coming.”

“So what’s the story?”

“It’s not very exciting. There were a million other James’ at school and my middle name is. . . Buchanan.” You cover your mouth with your fist, doing your best to stifle a giggle. “I know, I know, I don’t know what they were thinking either. I still ask Dad if he was drunk when I was born - he never finds it as funny as I do. And obviously you can’t go around calling a toddler Buchanan, so Bucky it was.”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you tested out. “It suits you.” A smile spreads across his face, a contagious one. Clearing your throat and shifting in your seat you say, “Alright, your turn for a question, Barnes.”

“What, I don’t get to hear about your name?”

“Nope. Try again.”

“Okay, then. Where’d you come from before this job?”

“I worked for Chevrolet during the war. There was a massive demand at the factory in my hometown. I signed up, much to my mother’s disappointment, but I was good at what I did. Worked on engines, learned a lot about combat vehicles. Even got promoted a few times, ended up being the foreman of my department.”

What could only be described as awe flashes through Bucky’s eyes. “That’s incredible. Why didn’t you stay?”

“Well. . .” you bit your lip, picking your words carefully. “The war ended. Men came back expecting to pick up where they left off. A majority of the women were relieved - it was tough work. But I truly enjoyed it. One day my supervisor called me into his office and informed me of the date my predecessor was returning, insinuating that would be my last day. I looked him straight in the eye and told him I would happily take the returning soldier on as a member of my crew.”

Bucky’s brow arches, smirk curling his lips. “And then?”

“And then several executives met with me and tried to persuade me to leave. Said my pretty face didn’t belong in a factory all day, that the work was too hard. Even though I’d been doing it for years without a problem when they needed labor. I mentioned the New York Times would surely be interested in hearing my story about them breaching a contract to counteract their post-war media praise.

“They scrambled and offered me the corporate job to try to smooth things over. But it was clear that I was not welcome to stay. They paid to move me into the city a few weeks ago.” You shrug, “I never wanted to be a career typist, but I’m not sure what else is out there for me to do. I don’t want to teach, I don’t want to just be a housewife. At least I can do this job well.”

Bucky nods, appearing to be lost in thought.

During your chatter, you’ve barely noticed the food that had appeared in front of you. You found comfort in how Bucky seemed to be paying much more attention to you than his plate as well.

“Although my job is a cakewalk compared to your normal routine, I’m sure,” you continue.

“Nah, I think you’ve got it worse. Being stuck in a tie in an office heading into a New York summer? I’m much happier outside where I can catch some wind.”

“Even though it’s kinda hazardous?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Bucky shakes his head as he takes a bite of food.

“But you’re. . . . you’re so high up, can’t that be nerve-wracking?”

“It’s not as dangerous as you think.”

You’re sure the face you pull is overly dramatic, but his nonchalance is almost unnerving. “Are you kidding? You almost died on my first day of work!”

“What do you mean?”

You give Bucky an incredulous look. “Do you not remember falling from the roof? It looked like part of your harness had either slipped or wasn’t secured or something like that. You caught yourself on the ledge of a window on my floor.” Bucky still looks lost. “You don’t remember giving me a thumbs up and disappearing?”

Much to your astonishment, Bucky throws his head back and laughs. “Oh that? Trust me, I’ve been in worse situations.”

Your jaw drops, brows drawing together. Somehow Bucky laughs harder. (You had been right, that laugh was worth hearing.) “You can’t be serious.”

“It reminded me of a particularly hairy day but my best friend managed to pull me out. If I survived the war, I feel like I could survive anything at this point. Including the knuckleheads I work with.” His tone shifts away from mirth. “I’m sorry if they were rude to you that day. They’re ignorant kids who think they know everything.”

“For a second I thought you might turn out to be a knucklehead too.”

He winces. “They were that bad, huh?”

“They were. . .” you pause to search for the right word, “boys.”

“Yeah, they got some growing up to do.”

Your waiter places your bill on the table, wishing you a good night. But then your hand bumps into Bucky’s as you both lay hands on the slip of paper.

“No, no, no,” you tut, “this is on me.” With firmness you slide the bill to your side of the table.

“Nuh-huh, Sixth Floor, this was my idea.” He pulls the bill back to his side.

“And you wouldn’t be paying for a meal if I hadn’t shown up,” with one more slip in your direction.

“How about this,” Bucky proposes, sliding the bill from beneath your fingers, “I got this one. Ma would kill me if she found out I didn’t pay for a first date, so really, you’re doin’ me a favor. I’ll split it with you next time. Deal?”

Next time.

“Deal,” you agree, looking down to hide your goofy smile.

Once the bill is settled, you stay in your seats for nearly an hour while the conversation continues to flow. Topics move from family, to childhood stories - in which most of his involve a guy named Steve - before somehow coming back around to work.

“So, what brought you to window washing?”

“Family friend wanting to help a veteran out. It’s not want I want to do forever, but it hasn’t been awful while I’m getting back on my feet.” He twists his dirty napkin between his fingers. You try to steer the conversation away from serious territory.

“What, not looking to fast-track your career to wash the Empire State Building’s windows?”

Several things happen before Bucky has the chance to answer that question.

Out of the corner of your eye you spy a busboy carrying an entire tray of glassware. The tray is piled high, he’s unsteady, shaking, clearly new at his job. A waiter rounds the corner out of the kitchen, barreling straight into the busboy.

The relatively quiet ambience of the restaurant is shattered as glasses, plates, bowls, and the like smash into the floor. Shards of glass explode across the restaurant, a deafening roar shocking most of the patrons out of their discussions.

Bucky is on his feet, chair overturning with his sudden movement. His eyes dart between the restaurants’ two obvious exits, head swiveling around in search of something else. Reaching behind his back, his fingers grab at air.

You had been fairly certain he had served - how many men his age hadn’t? - but you weren’t going to broach the subject unless he did first. His posture took you back to several memories of your uncle after he’d come back from World War I. He had lived with your family for a few years after being discharged because of his condition. You were barely a toddler but could remember the lamp in the living room shining on in the night, your uncle being awake at all hours. When a door was slammed or a radio squealed because it lost its frequency, he’d freeze at first. Sometimes he screamed, sometimes he swung a fist at thin air. Your mother always ushered you to another room, telling you he’d be okay in a moment.

Shell-shock, she’d called it. It had a hundred other names: war neuroses, battle fatigue, combat exhaustion, railway spine, soldier’s heart, combat stress reaction, nostalgia. But it was all the same thing. The panic, the sadness, the agitation, the flashbacks, the insomnia. Too many people believed it wasn’t real. Generals and doctors alike insisted it was faked, an excuse to be treated and discharged. But you had seen the fear in your uncle’s eyes, the same fear Bucky was fighting right now.

It’s in that small instant that it dawns on you - what Bucky must have seen in his time overseas. He may smile and appear easygoing. But beneath that veneer was a survivor. Someone who has experienced unspeakable horror, who has lost things he could never get back. You wonder what point in time he’s taken back to; what he’s seeing, what he’s trying to escape from.

But then Bucky blinks a few times, hands clenching into fists at his side while he attempts to gain control of his shallow breathing. It’s over in a moment, but doesn’t escape your notice. His behavior stands out to no one but you - several people had stood up to help clean the mess, busboys were scattering everywhere to pick up shards.

You stand as well, drawing Bucky’s attention. “Wanna walk me home?”

He only nods, following you out of the restaurant. The pair of you walk in silence for a few blocks, your feet leading you home out of habit.

Your mind races. What can I do for him? Should I ask him about it? Do I pretend it didn’t happen? Should I talk first or let him say something? I’ll keep quiet for a bit. . . Okay I can’t handle walking around New York in dead silence.

“So, what do you want to do?”

He turns to you with a confused expression, obviously being dragged away from a memory. “Sorry, what?”

“You said you didn’t want to wash windows forever. What do you want to do?”

“Umm. . . I dunno.” He scratches the back of his neck absentmindedly before shoving his hands in his pockets. “I applied for my benefits from the G.I. Bill a few months ago. I’m still waiting to hear back from the VA. They’re all kinds of busy, though. If they come through, maybe I could go back to school or get trained in something specific. . . no matter how much I think about it, I can’t come up with a good answer.”

“Well, you’ve still got time to think about it.”

“I’ve got lots of time. Somehow that’s not as comforting as it should be.”

You hum in thought. “A salesman? Seems like you could be a sweet-talker.”

You get an eye-roll and a sarcastic “Ha ha,” as a response.

“An accountant?”

“Nah,” he scrunches his nose, “too much time inside.”

“That’s fair. . . a teacher?”

“I don’t think schools would want me around kids with my war experience.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. Someone who has seen the very worst of humanity would be well-equipped to deal with teenagers.” You both chuckle as Bucky admits that you may be right.

“I had always thought about doing something with my hands. Ma was always getting onto me n’ Steve for taking apart the toaster to see how it worked.”

“Bless your poor mother’s soul.”

“Hey, we could always put it back together,” you raise an eyebrow at him, “. . . most times.”

“Ah, the truth comes out,” you tease. This time the silence is more comfortable, less tense. You make it a few more blocks side-by-side, your arm brushing his every once in a while.

“Have you ever thought about working on cars?”

His looks down at you. “Can’t say that I have. I’ve never owned a car in my life, let alone worked on one. Don’t exactly need one when living in Brooklyn. The most driving experience I have is in war zones.”

“Before I left the factory, rumor was that they’re going to start making bigger cars to cater to families. That means bigger engines, which means a host of problems the factories won’t anticipate when they try to adapt the smaller engine. Cars will be popular, therefore cheaper, which might create a booming market in the next few years.”

“Huh.” He looks forward again, mulling on the idea.

“You don’t have to wear a tie, won’t be stuck inside, have minimal interactions with customers.”

“That’s not a bad thought.”

“Could be interesting to think about. If you think that’d make you happy of course,” you amend. “There’s no point in getting roped into a job you hate after surviving a war.”

“Hadn’t thought about it that way. I’ve been thinking more on surviving than being happy.”

“Thankfully that’s not something you really have to do anymore.”

Your eyes meet again, a revelation blooming in his. “Yeah, you’re right,” he breathes.

“I, uh. . . if it sounds like something you’d want to pursue. . . I’d be happy to teach you what I know. Let you get a feel for what it’d be like.” Immediately you regret what you’ve said - your mother would be horrified at how forward you were being.

Bucky stops walking which only makes you nervous as you stop with him.

“You mean it?” He doesn’t look displeased, rather earnest, actually.

You hum affirmatively. “An old friend from Terryville owns a garage in Queens. I’m sure he’d be okay with us stopping by and tinkering sometime next weekend. I can call him and check in the morning.”

“Okay, uh. . . yeah. Let’s do it.”

“Okay.” Once again, you are staring at each other in the middle of the sidewalk. You had a hard time grasping the fact that this twinkle in his eyes was new - surely that wasn’t because of you. . . right?

You start walking again, hoping you were right that your friend would let you and Bucky visit the garage. And you hope you could deliver on your promise to teach him. But that was a worry for another day.

“Well, this is me,” you come to a stop in front of your apartment building, circling to face Bucky.

“Oh, already? Uh. . .”

Shoot. I didn’t prepare for the end of a first date. It went by so fast, I didn’t have time to think about it. Oh jeeze, does he initiate a second date? Do I? If he even wants to see me again? Oh no, what if he tries to kiss me - I haven’t kissed someone in so long. Has it changed? How the f-

He says your name and you try to emerge from the fog of your frazzled inner dialogue. “I, uh, this was-um.” He shakes his head before blowing out a breath. “Thank you. . . for tonight. I uh, I really enjoyed myself.”

“I did too,” you return, hoping to bolster his confidence.

“Can I see you again?” he asks sheepishly, head turned down, eyes peeking up through sinfully dark lashes. “Before this weekend in the garage?”

Without a second’s thought you reply, “I would really like that, Bucky.”

A grin replaces the embarrassment, his posture already shifting. “You doing anything tomorrow night?” You shake your head. “Meet ya right here around six? I’m sure we can find something to do in the neighborhood.”

You can only manage a small nod, not trusting your voice to hide your emotions. Bucky takes the smallest of steps toward you, moving slow as if not to spook you.

Your eyes are so riveted to his that feeling his fingertips against yours startles you at first. You relax, warmth spreading through your stomach as he grabs your hand. Gently, he kisses the back of it, just long enough to be amorous.

“See you soon,” he murmurs against your skin. Goosebumps ripple up your arm before he lowers your hand and backs away, seeming loathe to turn around.

“Goodnight, Bucky,” you croak.

“Goodnight, Sixth Floor.”

Chapter Six

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