#like i wouldn’t even date a 19 year old. i’ve turned down about three 22 year olds. the youngest person i’ve swiped right on was 24 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wherethingscomebackx · 4 years

Text

Top 25 Larry fics of 2019

It’s that time again!

You may be familiar with these lists:

Top 25 Larry fics of 2016

Top 25 Larry fics of 2017

Top 25 Larry fics of 2018

As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2019 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out!

25.) Foolishy Laying Our Hearts on the Table by @runaway-train-works (11k)

“You think Harry wants that?”

“Dunno. Maybe. Wanna make him happy.” Harry takes advantage of the red light he’s pulled up to turn and look properly at Louis’ face. He’s not even looking in Harry’s direction though, focused instead on something out of his side window, head drooped, mindlessly playing with the string of his hoodie between his fingers, lost in his own world somewhere. For some reason, it makes Harry’s spine straighten.

“Because he’s your best mate?” Harry questions carefully.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

He couldn’t have heard him right. “What?”

Louis releases a deep breath, still not turning around. Harry wonders who he thinks he’s talking to right now. “He’s so pretty. Want to kiss him all day long. And buy him a big house and give him presents and marry him.”

The one where Harry is in love with his best friend Louis but doesn't think he stands a chance until some wisdom teeth and a rather unusual confession might just change his mind.

24.) Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices by @toomanydreamers (126k)

A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

23.) all we can do is keep breathing by @avocadolouie (310k)

“Harry, I-I’m so sorry…” Louis stutters out, trying to keep his voice level and even, to portray a depiction of strength, but with the way Harry is looking at him, staring at him like he has a personal passage way straight to Louis’ soul, it’s so hard, nearly impossible.

That simple opening phrase, that short introductory acknowledgement that is often rushed out so easily, painlessly, at a safe distance. Giving a doctor the ability to portray empathy without true emotion, without feeling the full brunt and sheer force of the underlying pain itself.

But Louis feels it, he feels the crushing agony laced behind the phrase, he feels the weight of the painful words slipping from his lips, the cause and effect that the three-word expression holds. The distantly empty “I’m so sorry” that doctors throw out in self-preservation, isn’t at all empty for him. Louis recognizes it, he understands it, he feels it.

a fated story of two broken and battered boys who barely survived the unimaginable and how the love of one little brave girl defies all the odds and somehow puts them back together.

22.) Raise a Glass to the Four of Us by @2tiedships2 (25k)

Louis stared at his luggage.

Well. Apparently not his luggage, because the clothing he was looking at currently was a: worth more than everything he currently possessed, b: not his size at all, and c: more suited for a fancy ass lawyer than a holiday in NYC with his best mates.

“Ooh, nice loafers,” Niall said as he pulled one out of the suitcase. “I love the rainbows.”

“Okay,” Liam began. “What do you want to do first? Eat, shop for new clothes, or spend hours on the phone with the airline?”

Louis continued to stare at the luggage.

21.) You Have to Retreat to Advance by @2tiedships2 (18k)

“What am I going to do, Perrie? I can’t go on this retreat by myself. My boss literally said he wants to meet my omega.” Harry paused. “Okay, not literally but he definitely expects me to be bringing him.”

“Don’t people go on these things by themselves?” Perrie asked.

Harry shrugged. “Of course but that’s not the point.”

“What’s the point?”

“My boss is expecting to meet my omega! I don’t have an omega!”

“Is this a paying gig?” Perrie asked.

“You mean paying an omega to spend the weekend with me? I’m sure the resort has nice amenities. Does that count?”

“I take that as a no,” Perrie said with an eye roll. “It’s okay, Louis might be willing to do it for free.”

“Who’s Louis?”

Or the one where Harry is expected to bring his longterm omega to the company's mountain retreat. Since he hadn't told anyone that they'd broken up months ago, he now has to find someone willing to play the part.

20.) A Darker Shade of Love by LittleSpoonStyles94 (750k)

Louis is a 30 year old multi-billionaire with a very dark past. He is violent and is a sadist with a taste for pain. Harry Styles is a 19 year old student who sets out to London after being kicked out by his homophobic father to follow his dreams. He wants to go to the best University to study but he needs a lot of money so he starts to work as a part time stripper at a gay club to support his studies and his life. The club he works at, Garland's, is part owned by Louis Tomlinson. When they meet, its life changing for the both of them.

19.) You Still Make Sense to Me by @amories (37k)

Harry, Louis, and their family navigate life together through the years.

18.) Like Water Over Fire (Like Water On Fire) by @mcssymon (119k)

“I’m sorry your highness, I think I misheard you, did you really say that you are hoping to meet your husband?” Oh god, Louis panicked. Was Prince Harry gay? Was he even allowed to be gay? Surely he wouldn’t be allowed to have a selection from a group of men, right?

Prince Harry looked partly like he wanted to laugh, but also very, very nervous about what he had just admitted, “Yes, sir, you heard correctly”

Or Prince Harry has 46 men and 13 weeks to find the husband of his dreams, Louis has a limited amount to time to live out a royal fantasy. They might just be exactly what the other needs.

17.) waiting for the tides to meet by @nauticalleeds (59k)

Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

Featuring a lovely cup of OT5, a road trip down the coast, and a scene where Harry eats a whole head of lettuce. Don't ask why.

16.) Call Answered by @vondrostes (249k)

The day after his 27th birthday, Harry Styles attempts suicide. Louis is flown to his bedside to unravel the mystery of why he did it after a flash drive is found with a note attached, addressed to Louis. On it are a collection of 78 songs, all written for different dates from their past.

15.) Counterbalance by @louandhazaf (44k)

Harry Styles loves two things: teaching ballet and racing motorcycles. Those two worlds collide when his greatest rival on the track, Louis “Tommo” Tomlinson brings his tiny siblings to Harry’s class.

14.) Everywhere and Nowhere by @2tiedships2 (16k)

Niall took a seat and said, "Apparently Louis' downstairs neighbor is a fan of giving Louis creepy gifts. Maybe I should go introduce myself and tell him that Louis actually prefers food."

"What has he given you?" Liam asked.

Louis shrugged as it were no big deal. "There was a rabbit's foot keychain on the door a little after he left from introducing himself and there was a small teddy bear sitting by my door tonight. Obviously I can't prove it's from him, but they seem to have his scent. I could be wrong though."

"Wow," Liam said, looking deep in thought. "That's old school."

"What's old school?" Niall asked. "Giving creepy gifts?"

"I've never known an alpha to do it, to be honest, but he's courting you."

Louis couldn't contain his look of disbelief directed at Liam. "He's courting me. Like some sort of romantic shit they'd do in the 1800s or something?"

13.) Swallow The Knife by whoknows (76k)

“You came,” Louis says, still breathless, clinging to Harry, uncaring that his sweat is getting all over Harry’s presumably clean dad shirt, or that he’s making Harry hold up all of his weight.

“Of course I came,” Harry says. He shifts, one arm curled underneath Louis’ arse, the other spreading wide in the middle of Louis’ back. “If I ignored you every time you pissed me off we would have stopped being friends a long time ago.”

Louis already knows that, of course. It doesn’t do anything to stop the pleased squirm in his belly every time Harry proves it, though. They fight like nobody’s business, both of them too stubborn to pull their punches when they’re arguing, and it used to get them in trouble, but they always make up.

Adrenaline makes Louis loose-lipped, and they both know it. He tightens his arms around Harry’s neck, buries his face in his hair. “I missed you,” he confesses, quiet. “Doesn’t feel the same up there by myself.”

12.) and oh, all of your saturdays could end up in woe by ihavetoomuchfreetime (70k)

a fic in which louis' in a long-term relationship with an abusive asshole, niall, zayn and liam are so far but not really, and harry is that all too friendly guy who works in sainsbury's.

11.) thinking about the t-shirt you slept in by @absoloutenonsense (52k)

Harry's alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam's latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis' financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.

10.) Consequences by @allwaswell16 (78k)

Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up. Sometimes, he even thinks he has. It only takes one moment to freeze them back in time.

An amnesia au

9.) Strawberries & Cigarettes by @dimpled-halo (76k)

Harry looks up and immediately freezes. Next to Ms. Archie stands the boy from just the other day. The boy with the leather jacket and chipped black nails, that might or might not be sketched in the very book Harry has just placed on the table in front of him. The leather jacket is missing today, probably because they aren’t allowed as part of their required uniform attire, but Harry can still see the fading black nail polish on his nails, and eyeliner around his eyes. Harry’s mouth goes a little dry. This boy is so intriguing to him.

“Ye-yes, Ms. Archie?” Harry tries to play it cool, but he’s almost positive that his cheeks are burning red, and he’s relieved neither of them can tell how fast his heart is beating in his chest.

The boy seems to also recognize Harry, because his lips curve into a knowing smirk.

“Harry is at the top of his class. He’s your best bet at getting familiar with things around here.” She explains.

Louis nods, his smirk still very prominent on his face. “Thank you Ms. Archie. I’ll be sure to take advantage of young Harold here.”

Summary: Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.

8.) Pain makes people change by Deidei (113k)

An organization called Canis Lupus existed solely for changing humans imprisoned in their wolf form back to their human form. Some people after experiencing some traumatic event can only ‘’protect’’ themselves from the pain by forgetting everything. To do that, to feel safe, they shift into their wolf form.

Which they'll be stuck in forever should no one intervene.

Louis Tomlison went through a traumatic experience at the age of twelve in which he lost his mother, to make the pain go away he shifted into a wolf and fled. He survived in the wild as a wolf for five years until Canis Lupis caught him... Though he wasn't alone, he had a pup at his side.

7.) Pretty Please (With Sugar On Top) by @angelichl (113k)

Harry is a sugar baby omega who cons rich alphas for a living. Louis is a rich alpha with too much self-control.

6.) Enemies with benefits by ssii8 (267k)

Where Harry is captain of basketball team and Louis is captain of football team and they hate each other. But somehow this doesn't stop them from having sex.

And everything is perfect until they start to feel something more.

5.) Ready To Fall by whoknows (21k)

“Ninety and rising,” Nick says triumphantly, as though making Harry’s heartbeat pick up by thrusting an obscenely attractive person in front of his face is any kind of success. “Louis Tomlinson has just walked into our control room and suddenly our dear Harry Styles has lost all ability to speak. Could this be some kind of strange coincidence?”

“I hate you,” Harry hisses, forcing his eyes back into Nick’s direction, uncaring that the mic must have picked it up. “I thought we agreed that you were going to play fair.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nick denies, except he’s holding up a picture of Louis’ face now, sharp cheekbones prominent, soft lashes nearly sweeping against his cheeks as he looks down, and his fucking mouth –

“A hundred and two!” Nick crows, all but clapping his hands together in glee. “The highest it’s ever been!”

“To be fair, I did bend over the desk on purpose,” Louis’ voice comes crackling in the headphones. Harry practically breaks his neck whipping his head around at the sound of it, gaping at him through the glass panel. “You can’t really blame him for getting a little excited about that, can you?”

4.) Close to Nowhere by @angelichl (34k)

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Louis threatened as he quickly stepped out of his jeans.

“I don’t think that would work very well baby, seeing as you talk to dead people all the time.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep and ignore your ghost. And don’t call me that.”

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

3.) Play Pretend, Find a Friend? by @angelichl (40k)

They had to pull back for air. Louis surveyed the guy’s face, in awe of his blown pupils and sharp jawline, the way their shared spit glistened on his lips.

“Hi,” he breathed. He blinked, and came back to himself a little bit, blushing at his own boldness. “Sorry. Is this okay?”

The stranger removed his right hand from the curve of Louis’ waist in order to cup his jaw, tilting it up to the angle he desired. He pressed their lips together, murmuring, “Definitely.” And then he kissed harder.

When Louis sees his ex-boyfriend kissing a random girl at a party, he acts out of blind jealousy. He kisses the first guy he can find. It turns into a thing.

INSPIRED BY CLOUDS.

2.) Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat by @angelichl (34k)

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

1.) All My Colours by IceQueenRia (267k)

Green… yellow… red. Red! RED!!!

Some people were born Dominant and others submissive. Sixteen year old Louis Tomlinson was a submissive and was proud to be so… until he was forced to his knees for the first time. The man before him was every subs nightmare, an abusive Dom, the kind who didn’t believe in the colour ‘red’ unless it was in the form of blood.

There were others, but Louis was the ‘favourite’ and he was the one the Dom liked to ‘play with’ the most. In fact, when the rescue team arrived, Louis was the one currently providing ‘service’ to the Dom.

Louis, Zayn and Niall are abused subs. Liam Payne is their devoted new Guidance Counsellor who just wants to make Niall smile and hear Zayn speak. As for Louis, he knows his guidance won’t be enough to help the boy heal. No, Louis Tomlinson needs something very special and very specific. He needs Harry Styles.

#larry #larry stylinson #harry styles #louis tomlinson #fic rec #larry fic rec #one direction #1d #one direction fan fiction #larry fan fiction #larry is real #larry fic #dom/sub fic #alpha/beta/omega verse #1d fan fiction

610 notes · View notes

lokidiabolus · 3 years

Text

Last Resort - chapter 1

Fandom: The Maze Runner

Pairing: Thomas x Newt

Warnings: ex boyfriends, AU

Summary: Three years after breaking up with Thomas, Newt finally thought the past of hating each other was behind them, until Thomas asked him for a favour - pretend they got back together for a week while staying at his parents' home. Because it was an absolutely dumb idea, Newt was inclined to refuse, but then found himself in the house he used to visit when he was in love and happy and the bitter reality of only pretending for people he always liked made him miserable. But it was nothing against dealing with Thomas himself for a week straight and trying not to fall back in love that hurt them both.

Or: Prompt ch. 192 with added spice. Or something. I just needed to write for a while :')

Can be found on Ao3.

Notes: Hi! I was really into writing something, like really, really hyped, but then couldn't find anything that would make me go "yaaas!". So I thought of just giving up, until I somehow vaguely recalled I wrote this small one shot about two exes falling back in love in parents' house, and just sort of thought: oh yeah. Angst, good. Could add some horny. Good. Let's try. So here we are. Trying. It's not exactly deep or anything. I just needed to get this out of my system :') And it's not like I can't write anything else but AUs... ha.

Unbetad!

Sometimes Newt felt like the world was against him in literally any kind of situation. Once he decided to commit to something, a sudden force worked against him immediately, completely ruining the plan, or at least derailing his confidence in it. For about a year he thought that maybe it was the Universe giving him signs, for another year it felt like a karmic backslash and this year he settled on the fact he was just being despised by whatever higher force was in charge.

Although last year wasn’t as bad, really, until November 12th on dot. If it was about to be documented anywhere, he was just getting out of his shower, quite sleepy already, in rather calm, peaceful mood, once his phone dinged with a new message and he, without knowing the consequences of reading it, opened it. Even though it had Thomas as a sender - he thought later it should have deterred him from ruining the night for himself. Yet, his stupid lizard brain just clicked on it, blissfully unaware.

ThomAss - [23:14] – This is a life-or-death matter, you HAVE TO help me out D:

Newt - [23:15] – HAVE TO even.

ThomAss - [23:16] – YES. Please. I’m ready to beg too, that’s how desperate I am!

Newt - [23:17] – Hmm. Tempting. On your knees?

ThomAss - [23:18] – It’s negotiable.

Newt - [23:19] – Might think about it. Go on.

ThomAss - [23:20] – I need you to come home with me. I mean to my parents’ home.

Newt - [23:21] – What…?

ThomAss - [23:22] – It’s an emergency. They’re being persistent, so I need to bring somebody over.

Newt - [23:24] – I don’t follow?

ThomAss - [23:25] – Somebody I’m dating, that is.

Newt - [23:26] – Yeah, no.

ThomAss - [23:27] – Pleaaaaaaaaaase! T^T

He refused to admit he was fuming when he tossed his phone on the mattress and ignored how it beeped several times with new messages. There was no bloody way he’d go all smiling into Thomas’ parent’s house and pretend they were dating when they broke up three years ago in bad blood and it took them over two years to recover enough to be able to at least talk in a civil way. Sure, these past few months were sort of… better than the rest, though Newt didn’t really know if there was a reason, or they just let go of the grudge.

Well, partially let go, at least Newt’s was still lightly festering sometimes, on bad days when he was stupid enough to let his guard down and remind himself of it.

His phone beeped three more times and then the silence of his flat got sliced to pieces by the obnoxious ringtone he put in spite to Thomas’ contact two years ago. They weren’t calling each other, so there was no way he’d hear it at any point back then, but now, when the sound filled his home, he had a fleeting thought of smashing the phone to pieces instead.

“I said no,” he answered anyway, cold enough for Thomas to definitely get shivers on the other side of the line.

“Newt, please, I beg you,” Thomas didn’t even bother with greetings and whined like a five-year-old. “You can’t possibly be that cruel, can you?”

“Minho,” Newt gritted out. “Why not him?”

“He’s in England! Drinking tea! He’d throw me off the Big Ben if I interrupted his super-secret-date-everybody-knows-about!” Thomas responded frantically and Newt pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

Fine, he had a point, probably, Minho would rage at him if he tried to drag him back shit like this. He planned the totally-not-a-date for months, never introduced the person and then disappeared. Everyone knew why, but they didn’t know to who.

“Teresa.” Another possibility, and Thomas’ groaned into the speaker.

Oh, so he already asked her, and she turned him down. Not to mention…

“Brenda?”

Another groan.

“For fuck’s sake,” Newt had to force himself not to throw the phone against the wall. “Have you literally asked everyone and I’m the bloody last resort?”

“Sort of?” Thomas piped and Newt refused to acknowledge how it stung weirdly.

Am I being hypocritical?

It wasn’t like he was willing to go anyway, but somehow his pride didn’t like it. And his pride was a bitch, he knew, and had the power to overwrite his common sense.

“Look, it’s just…” Thomas sighed into the phone. “…embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?” the blond repeated. He would say uncomfortable maybe, but embarrassing? “What is bloody embarrassing about it? I’ve heard you snore and fart and throw up and come, and you think this is embarrassing?”

“This is embarrassing!” Thomas whined like couldn’t hear the naked truth and Newt shook his head. They had their history, and it wasn’t just a week short fling. They lived together for three years and dated for seven, there honestly couldn’t be much of an embarrassment present anymore.

Although maybe yes, after three years of barely talking.

“You’re ridiculous,” he mumbled after, dropping a towel he was drying his hair with on the bed. “How’s this even a question, can you just tell them you’re single? Or. I don’t know, that the person you date had other business to attend to?”

“No,” Thomas answered immediately. “I can’t and I won’t. You act like you don’t know them, they’re onto me.”

“Cuz you’re a liar?” Newt tilted his head to the side and Thomas grumbled.

“Am not, okay.”

“So where’s your significant other that can’t attend?”

“On the phone right now, being difficult. Obviously,” Thomas delivered without ounce of shame and if he was standing right in front of Newt, he would have one in his face. “Look, I didn’t want to ask you, cuz of course it’s kinda weird, since my parents already know you and all.”

Of course he would rather bring Teresa or Brenda over, Newt thought and the bitterness surprised him.

“Well, at least they wouldn’t be as shocked,” he said in response, pushing the wave of reminiscing back down. “Imagine Minho, he would probably tear the place apart.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t break up with Minho,” Thomas reminded him, keeping the sombre tone despite Newt trying to lighten the situation.

“You don’t say,” he said instead. “And?”

“And they know we did,” Thomas continued. “So it’s gonna be awkward, you know.”

“Can imagine, yes,” Newt didn’t want to play dumb. “I already told you no though, so there’s no reason to torture yourself with the what if.”

“When did I ever want anything this important from you though!” The whine was back, and Newt sucked in a sharp breath.

“You want me to make you a list? Or would a text suffice.”

“I told you I’d beg on my knees, right? I will. I’m ready to go to your place right now and kneel for the whole night if that’d please you,” Thomas shot back, sounding too serious for Newt’s liking. His neighbours would hate him if Thomas spent the night in front of his door on his knees, serenading him just to make him cave in.

“For fuck’s sake, for how long am I going to be pretending I love your stupid face again then?” he growled unhappily and Thomas on the other side let out a small laugh.

“Well, mum said a weeklong vacation, but I’m sure like three days would be enough to sate her craving for whatever she actually craves when she forces me to do this,” he dropped like a week wasn’t a death sentence or could pose an actual problem with Newt’s remaining vacation days. Which was not. But Thomas didn’t know that.

“I know you have vacation days left, since you always hoard them,” Thomas immediately added like he could read his mind and Newt couldn’t stop the curse leaving his mouth. “It’s not so bad, right? Countryside, fresh air, great food and for free.”

“For the cost of my sanity, but sure, for free,” Newt grumbled and padded to the table to boot up his notebook. “When?”

“I’d pick you up on this Friday at 3? Work or home, your pick.” There was an obvious relief in Thomas’ voice and Newt kind of wanted to remind him they still broke up and barely talked to each other for two and half years, so it was not going to be a walk in a park at any point, but he kept his mouth shut.

“I work till 4,” he uttered while opening his e-mail and started to write a request for vacation. “So something past 4 in front of my workplace should be fine.”

“Four? Since when?” came a question and Newt rolled his eyes. “It used to be 3 max.”

“Three years ago, sure,” Newt decided to overlook Thomas’ weird habit of keeping shit like this memorized. “Things changed.”

“You work longer for the same pay?” Thomas guessed and Newt scoffed.

“I’m not an idiot, okay,” he commented sternly. “I got promoted. So I go to work a bit later, but work till later too.”

“Aaah,” Thomas voiced. “That’s pretty cool. Congratz.”

Year and half late, but I guess it’s the thought that counts. He just hummed.

“Then four it is,” Thomas got back on track easily. “Thanks, Newt. You’re a lifesaver.”

“You don’t know what it will cost ya yet, don’t be so happy about it,” Newt said grumpily. “I don’t work for free.”

“How’s pleasant company and free accommodation and full inclusive not enough for you? You spoiled little bitch,” Thomas faked an offended tone and Newt rolled his eyes.

“Pleasant company is questionable, since you’re going to be there,” he shot back, more out of habit than with an actual spiteful intent. “But I guess your family will do.”

“Oof, alright,” it didn’t take anything from the cheerful tone of his, “you can send me a bill after. Fucking high maintenance as always, aren’t you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Newt chirped and hung up. The moment he sent the mail to his boss he immediately regretted it.

***

Friday came so fast Newt barely noticed the week whooshing past him, and suddenly it was 3:50, he was basically done with his workload for the day, his weeklong vacation got a green light and a bag with his things was sitting mockingly on his table, reminding him he was an idiot who just liked to make himself miserable.

Thomas was already texting him since morning to not forget to pack undies like he was a mastermind of great humour and Newt’s eyes lingered a bit too long on a kitchen knife when he was packing yesterday.

But then again, Thomas’ mum definitely had much better cutlery, so the variety of murder weapons just multiplied.

He pointedly ignored how his stomach lurched at the sight of Thomas at his car in casual clothes and unzipped jacket like it was spring (the -4 degrees disagreed with him, and especially with Newt’s complete lack of proper thermoregulation), actually having a pleasant expression on his face Newt last seen… well, long time ago. He took Newt’s bag and put it in the boot of the car with such nonchalance Newt almost believed his parents might be tricked into thinking they really got back together, how smooth and easy he made it look. Newt refused to ruin it with sarcasm, so he just got into the passenger seat and let Thomas get them on the road.

“You know Christmas is still a month away, right?” Thomas commented once Newt got rid of his coat and scarf, since the car was warm inside, and tossed it onto the back seat, before putting on the seatbelt.

“Yeah?” he raised an eyebrow at him and didn’t like the smile Thomas had on his lips. He was going to nag, for sure.

“Just that you’re wrapped like a present,” came an expected comeback. “How many layers you even have? You took all of your winter clothes on?”

“Stuff it,” the blond glared at him. “It’s cold outside.”

“It’s not that cold though?” Of course Thomas wouldn’t let it go.

“Just cuz you circulate lava and not blood doesn’t mean others do too,” Newt’s glare intensified. “Like it’s something bloody new I’m cold as fuck all the time.”

“Yeah, it’s really not,” his companion shrugged with self-satisfied smirk and Newt wanted to stomp on the brake and just get out of the car. Why did he agree again?

Prick.

What even made him so happy? Still didn’t realize how many faked smiles he’s going plaster on his face through the stay? Or he didn’t care?

“What are we going to tell them?” he asked instead to bring them closer to the problem, since the resolution was only three hours’ drive away. He wouldn’t admit it, but since he agreed to help with this clownery, he couldn’t stop thinking about what to tell the people he genuinely liked and didn’t want to lie to. He could almost forget how rare it was to stay alone with Thomas these days – or months – or years – without an urge to strangle the brunet every time he got close and opened his mouth, when they were sitting in the car so peacefully now.

It was calm but utterly bitter.

The bitterness, Newt thought, was probably still the remnant from three years ago. Maybe not as vicious, but still accompanying him after all these years, every time they saw each other. The first year was catastrophic, the second they both calmed down a bit, and the third they actually managed to lead a normal, reasonable conversation with minimum insults.

Newt wasn’t shy to admit he missed his ex during quiet moments of his life; somehow. He was especially prone to it during his birthday, somehow spending the passing years without Thomas’ company hurt, despite the bad parting. Talking with Thomas with more ease was nostalgic. But his brain always helpfully supplied it was not going to last because they were still the stupid, broken up them deep down.

Not to mention pretending to be lovers just to get Thomas’ parents off his back was lame as fuck. He had no idea why he agreed. Maybe he was lame too.

“I don’t know. We bumped into each other on a party and made out in a closet,” Thomas responded, the smile finally falling off, his eyes glued to the road before him. “And decided to try it again.”

“Ugh.”

“What, you have a better idea?” Thomas shot him a look and Newt snorted.

“We managed to talk normally again and realized we’re still in love with each other?” he offered, just to piss him off. “Since, you know, it happens to normal people?”

“What, sex in the closet does not?” There was that annoyance in Thomas’ voice again Newt knew so well. They usually talked to each other like that – annoyed, nagging, angry, and it wasn’t hard to fall back into it.

“Probably to you,” he averted his eyes from his companion and watched the passing scenery instead. “But I’m not that easy.”

“That’s true,” he heard Thomas whisper, more to himself, and rather buried himself lower into the seat. The fact their intimate life sucked the last month they were together hadn’t been a secret and Newt was very much aware it just sped up the fall of their relationship. But at that point it all felt wrong, and the last thing Newt had wanted was having angry sex, or sex out of obligation, or basically anything intimate without enjoying the other person’s company. Because they sure weren’t enjoying each other for some time already.

Thomas didn’t like it. And he was pretty open about not liking it. But then again, so was Newt.

And then they broke up. It was outside during Christmas, under the lit-up tree on the city square, and Newt still considered it the most unpleasant memory of his life. They were furious, both of them, and the breakup was inevitable, but when it finally came, it wasn’t an explosion full of shouting or accusing as he expected.

Nope, it was quiet, cold and devastating. Seven years down the drain, just like that.

“Let’s go with your version,” he heard Thomas saying roughly. “It happens.”

“Yeah,” he piped, closing his eyes.

In fairy tales.

***

“Oh my god, I knew it!”

It was the first thing that hit them both when the door to the house opened and Thomas’ mother ran out, shrieking like a siren while going straight to Newt and almost suffocated him in an embrace. “I knew you two would get back together, I knew it!”

“There goes the surprise,” Newt managed from the rest of his breath and when she finally released him just to run back to the house to tell the rest of the family the big news, he gasped like he was drowning.

“Good to know she’s as strong as ever,” he croaked, and Thomas hummed and took both of their bags to carry it inside. He had gotten visibly darker and grumpier the closer they got to his hometown and now he almost visibly carried a dark, raining cloud above his head, looking like he just arrived at his own funeral.

Newt followed him inside with surprising ease though, like returning to this place somewhat negated everything Thomas tried to spoil. He had only nice, pleasant memories of this house, and those people, so even if Thomas ought to be a dickhead, he could always enjoy himself here.

“Newt!” a roaring voice welcomed him next, and another crushing hug lifted him from the floor. Thomas’ father was a big, broad guy who could probably lift the house itself, and his jolly personality apparently remained untouched as well.

“Hi there,” the blond greeted him right the moment he got back to the ground, trying to withstand the bear pat that followed. “Haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Likewise!” the big guy cheerily replied. “Glad to see he came back to his senses! Was seriously afraid he’d bring that gloomy goth girl here, I don’t think we have enough black around for that.”

Teresa or Brenda.

“Nah, he still has a thing for blonds,” he replied with a smile and immediately heard Thomas’ scoffing from the living room. The fact that both Teresa and Brenda turned him down must have scarred his ego a lot.

The jab was worth it though.

***

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Anna (Thomas’ mum) patted his arm for about fourth time already since they arrived, her face fond and eyes happy, and it made Newt guilty as hell. They all gathered in the kitchen, which smelled like fantastic food and happy memories. “I swear the breakup was so shocking, we didn’t want to believe it. Tom took it so badly too, I-,”

“Mum,” Thomas’ voice sounded threatening from behind them. “Stop feeding him useless stuff. He just got off work and spent three hours in the car, let him breathe a little.”

She made a face at him but sent Newt an apologetic smile and gave him a muffin. Still tasted as he remembered, and he had to admit those small welcoming bits were the only brakes he had from running away. It wasn’t like Thomas was nasty towards him or anything – he wouldn’t dare since they’d call him out on it – but since they had the talk in the car Newt could feel the uncomfortable tension between them that always ended in an argument.

“You want coffee?” Newt realized Thomas was looking at him now, eyebrows raised, and he just nodded, not trusting himself to say anything.

“I’ll bring it to you, you can go sit with others,” Thomas added as if he couldn’t get rid of him fast enough and Newt didn’t argue with that logic. The moment he left the kitchen and sat between Thomas’ dad and sister, relief washed over him, and he could finally breathe a little easier.

“I thought you’d already be married to somebody decent,” Hannah (Thomas’ little sister) commented while she plastered herself against Newt’s side like she used to do when she was little. Newt haven’t seen her for about four years, give or take, and now she was 14 and apparently full of opinions. “And not wasting your time with him again.”

Him, pointedly looking at her brother who was sneering at her while entering the living room with Newt’s coffee, was seemingly normal occurrence lately, judging from zero reactions from the parents.

“I know, I’ll never learn,” Newt piped in anyway, which made Thomas sneer at him for a change, and almost spilling the coffee on him, not even trying to mask it as an accident.

“Do I have to be the target of your bad jokes?” he glared at them collectively and when Anna arrived after him with dinner, Newt felt nostalgic, like literally nothing changed, and he relaxed into it with more ease than he expected.

He was just glad Thomas was sitting further from him and didn’t need to force himself to act natural. When he reached for the coffee, his favourite taste of it surprised him, but he didn’t meet Thomas’ eyes.

***

“I have to say, you got even cuter,” Anna suddenly said once they were past dinner, Newt couldn’t eat or drink anymore or he would explode and decided to walk it out while helping her bringing dishes to the kitchen and putting them in a dishwasher.

“Anna,” he chuckled. “That’s not what a guy wants to hear.”

“I’m just saying,” she had a genuine smile on her face. “I feared I’d never get to see you here ever again. I know you don’t really want to talk about the breakup and all…”

She stopped for a second, her eyes searching, and Newt hated how strangely painful it made him feel. He sincerely hoped it didn’t show on his face.

“I just want you to know I’m happy you two got back together,” she concluded, which meant it definitely showed on Newt’s face and she saw it. “I know you must have your reasons back then and everything, but I’m just… so glad for you two. And I wish you’d visit more often as well.”

Newt’s chest tightened like he was about to have a heart-attack and he had to push the guilt back down with the power of his sheer will alone, right in front of her trusting, hopeful eyes, like he was disarming a ticking bomb with 10 seconds on the countdown. He expected maybe some initial awkwardness, or some of them poke fun at how they finally got their shit back together after three years, but this wasn’t the plan and he hated how he wanted to hide behind Thomas’ back and just push him to deal with this instead.

“Yeah,” he gulped down the rising agony. “We absolutely should.”

Liar.

“You were always such a great kid,” she pushed herself from the kitchen counter and pulled him into a tight, heartfelt hug. Tears almost spilled out of Newt’s eyes when she squeezed him with loving gentleness he didn’t want to feel again to know what he was missing. “We all love you so much. Thank you for coming back.”

He couldn’t stop the guilt anymore and quietly wept into her shoulder, praying to any higher power for her not to notice.

***

It wasn’t an escape. He did not run away like a coward the moment he could. He didn’t light up his cigarette outside on a porch with trembling hands because he couldn’t get his nerves under control. It just happened. He just felt like it. He just needed the fresh air, nothing else.

He thought, maybe if he kept telling himself that, the tears would eventually stop and he wouldn’t be sniffling anymore into the night, with sky sprinkled with stars and air cold enough to make his face feel like ice.

He heard the door opening only vaguely, his eyes stinging, until the automatic light flashed above him, signalizing a movement nearby. He noticed Thomas too late, he realized when he started pathetically wiping away tears into his sleeve.

“You okay?” Thomas asked a bit abundantly, seeing the state of his, but Newt had to admit there weren’t many other questions to ask anyway.

“Yeah,” Newt sniffled, trying to get his feelings under control, but failing miserably. “Sorry… just. Give me a few, I’ll be fine.”

Thomas took a step closer, and Newt hated how he flinched at that.

“Mum told you something?”

He had an unreadable face, Newt thought. Neutral and careful and Newt couldn’t say what he was thinking. He hated how the ability of reading this man just disappeared like the rest of their history.

“Nothing bad,” he shook his head and brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling shortly. His hands still trembled but not as badly anymore. “Are they worried?”

“Not yet, I think,” Thomas replied quietly, glancing towards the door, then sighed. “I guess it’s… kind of painful.”

“Kind of,” Newt agreed softly. “But it reminds me how nice it was when it lasted.”

“Yeah,” Thomas finally glanced at him, his eyes a bit warmer. “It was amazing.”

Newt felt a lump in his throat forming, and the more Thomas was looking at him, the worse it got, until he couldn’t really stand it. So he offered a small, apologetic smile, put the cigarette out and returned back to the house with buzzing in his head and weird pressure in his chest.

The mischievous grins Thomas’ family gave him once he reappeared in the living room never felt so wrong.

***

Newt didn’t really plan on it, but since the night progressed and his company slowly started leaving for the night, he eventually fell asleep on the couch in the living room. He thought he heard somebody trying to wake him while softly saying his name, but he was too exhausted to rise to the challenge and just let his eyes close shut.

The last thing he noticed was sudden warmth engulfing him, like being hugged by a fluffy animal and then he was out like a light.

He dreamed of first loves and heartbreaks.

***

“You’re being 17 only once in your life, man, cheer up a little!”

Newt grumpily looked at the shot he was given with liquid of unknown origin and then back at Minho, who was grinning at him encouragingly, already drunk enough to be considered not the most reliable source of what fun is. Newt couldn’t say he liked the taste of any alcohol he tried so far, and even though Minho made it look like it’s the most delicious thing he ever had, every cup tasted like spirit and burned unpleasantly.

Sure, he was 17 today. Sure, he tried alcohol because everybody did to celebrate, but every time they looked away, he just poured the rest of his cup into something that could hold it (the cactus probably wasn’t happy about it and Newt mentally apologized to the plant when he disposed of the rest of his beer in its pot).

“Lemme take that from you,” a sudden movement on his side caused the small glass to be taken from his hand, and then a brown-haired boy downed the drink like it was water. Newt had no idea who he was, but since he saved him from possible vomit-inducing moments, he immediately liked him.

“My saviour,” he grinned once the boy tossed the empty glass back to Minho who barely caught it. The boy smiled back at him, his big, brown eyes warm and honestly really pretty.

“Thomas,” he introduced himself. “I take it you’re the birthday boy. Newt, right?”

“Right,” the blond nodded in agreement. “You here with Ben?”

It was just a guess, but he vaguely remembered Ben mentioned something about bringing friends over and Newt didn’t mind. The more people present, the easier would it be for him to disappear at some point to avoid being cornered with other alcoholic beverages.

“Yep,” Thomas nodded with a cute smile. Newt wondered if he was already at least a little drunk to be so easily charmed. “I know I should have brought a gift, since it’s your b-day and all, but I kinda came empty handed. Sorry about that.”

“Preposterous,” Newt faked a shock, hand on his chest and laughter bubbling in his throat, but Thomas was already fishing through his pockets as if he was searching for something to give, and that made him laugh for real. “It’s fine, Tommy. You saved me from alcohol poisoning, you have a free pass.”

“That’s lame though,” Thomas objected unhappily and then finally found his phone in his back pocket, looking at Newt expectantly. “Can I at least get your number? I swear I will make it up to you.”

Normally Newt would argue he didn’t need anything, for real, don’t sweat it, but the more he was looking into Thomas’ eyes, the more his common sense refused to work, and caving in was so, so easy.

“Sweet,” Thomas smiled happily when he saved the contact and then slung his arm around Newt’s shoulders, leaned close and took a quick photo of them both on his phone. “You won’t regret it.”

“I know I won’t,” Newt said, and he meant it.

***

He woke up with his head painfully pounding, like he slept too long or too short. In a moment of confusion of his whereabouts one glance across the empty but messy living room from yesterday’s festivities gave him the answer he sought – he was in hell and it smelled like pancakes.

He gingerly sat up, analysing the situation carefully, until his eyes stopped at the clock showing 12:04 and Newt refused to believe them. He couldn’t have possibly slept till noon, right? Thomas was playing a prank at him by rewinding the clock or something, there was simply no way. He usually woke up at 7, if he really had a deficit then 9 the latest and felt guilty about it. Twelve sounded like a bad joke.

Then again, his body was so sore it made sense. He had a crick in his neck, his legs felt wooden and stiff and there were creases from the couch everywhere on his naked skin. He had a soft, fluffy blanket draped around his body he didn’t remember even seeing yesterday but was grateful for anyway.

“Fuck,” he breathed out in mortification. “What am I even doing?”

“Having a zombie march, I’d say,” a voice interrupted his inner freak out mercilessly and he turned around too fast for his poor head to comprehend and world spun for a moment. “Thought you died or something, geez. Since when you sleep so long?”

Thomas was slowly walking towards him with a tray, trying to balance the cups with coffee on it, and once he successfully set it down, there was only a small puddle under one, so still a success. He brought pancakes and muffins Anna baked and Newt didn’t feel like his appetite was up to this.

“I dunno,” the blond rubbed his eyes sleepily. “I guess I wasn’t really sleeping as much these past few days…”

“Your back must hate you though,” Thomas glanced at the sofa pointedly. “Only sitting for too long on this torture device is painful.”

“Eh,” Newt shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

“Well, you look like shit, so not much worse,” Thomas didn’t spare him, smirking at Newt’s apparently dishevelled appearance and he just flipped him off.

“Have a pancake, you’ll feel better,” Thomas pushed the tray closer.

“Maybe later,” Newt untangled himself from the blanked instead. “I need a bath.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Newt mentally slapped Thomas so hard his face landed in the pancake cushion. In reality he just scoffed and wobbled out of the living room at the sound of his ex’ snickering.

***

Nobody really commented on Newt’s faux pas of passing out on the couch until it was time for lunch, but they did comment on his food habits (or better on having none). He barely ever ate breakfast in the morning, so he didn’t eat the fluffy pancakes, or the muffins Thomas brought him, but he did drink the coffee. Before he could even properly digest that Anna was already serving lunch and he had no way how to wiggle himself out of that one.

The rest of the day passed like a blur and when the evening came Anna was chasing him to the bed the first moment he yawned.

“You’re not going to ruin your back on this monstrosity!” she was pushing him up the stairs with Thomas behind her, laughing at them. “I don’t understand how we didn’t buy a new one yet, but now we have to, or you’d wreck yourself on it!”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Newt tried to argue, but she was having none of it and finally stopped in front of Thomas’ room, which… was an obvious choice, but Newt felt his blood running cold at the sight of the familiar area.

“I prepared clean towels and everything,” she pointed at a fluffy pile on Thomas’ desk. “Good night!”

“Yeah…” the blond barely got that out and she was already leaving, calling to others downstairs to help her choose a new couch so she could immediately order it online.

“Well, at least we’ll get rid of that relic,” Thomas commented while entering the bedroom as well, all smiles like he didn’t realize there was one bed, them broken up and Newt’s absolute horror.

“We’re not sleeping in the same bed, are we,” Newt ignored him with eyes fixed at the lodging in the room and Thomas crossed his arms on his chest, his lips in a wide grin.

“What, I clearly remember you saying there is nothing embarrassing about me anymore, since you heard me fart and all.”

“Oh god, shut up,” Newt wished his words were a spell and came true, but of course they didn’t work on Thomas, since he started laughing like a hyena. Anna naturally would let them both sleep in Thomas’ room, it was an obvious choice, but he sure hated it.

Thomas’ room was the same as Newt remembered it, but it made sense, since Thomas had his own place in the city for years. His family had no reason to change it, let it be the queen-sized bed, the blue-ish walls and sleek black furniture hugging the place. It had no sofa, which was the core of the problem for one of them and Newt’s regret of saying yes returned in full force.

“It’s not like it’s a small bed,” Thomas commented matter-of-factly once he had his fill of fun and sat at the edge of the incriminated furniture, obviously taunting him.

“It’s not like I care,” Newt bit out and circled the bed in disdain. “Sleep on the floor for what I care.”

“But it’s my bed,” Thomas argued with badly concealed glee. Newt guessed it was because now he could make fun of him now, which must have made him feel good after being a target of little quips from his family for two days. “If you don’t like me in it, you go sleep on the floor.”

“I’m a guest in here,” Newt crossed his arms on his chest. “Don’t you have any manners? Not to mention you owe me for coming here and playing your lying game.”

“It has nothing to do with manners or me owing you, you’re just being a stubborn ass as always,” Thomas corrected him and clearly didn’t feel like being merciful, especially when he just flopped onto the mattress and looked at Newt expectantly. “So, let’s calm down and get some sleep. I promise I won’t attack you until you’re awake again.”

“Shut up, jerk face,” Newt barked at him and grabbed the towel Anna left there, turning to leave for the bathroom, definitely not running away. “As if I’d bloody let you.”

“Mhmmm.” Thomas’ face was grinning, and Newt wanted to set his guts on fire.

Goddamn, fuck this all.

***

Of course Thomas already laid under the covers, one arm under his head, other holding his phone and leisurely scrolling through it. The room was bathing in darkness, outside of the small lamp on the bedside table. Newt still remember that lamp from years ago, and how they almost broke it when Newt accidentally knocked it over when they were having sex… here… okay, that particular memory really didn’t need to resurface right now.

“I know right,” Thomas suddenly spoke, looking at Newt pointedly. “I was surprised that thing still works too. Got banged so badly.”

“Hmm…”

“Not the only thing that got banged though,” of course the fucker had to add, and Newt tossed his shirt he was holding at him. Only got small laugh in response and then his shirt got dropped carelessly on the floor, left crumpled there like trash. Newt wanted to kick Thomas’ ass so bad he almost reached for his whole bag to hit him with it.

“Going to stand there whole night?” Thomas was acting smugly because he had an upper hand for now, the blond knew the tactics very well. Just milking the moment until one of them snap, he sure hadn’t changed. Newt seriously considered to just leave and sleep in the car if he had to.

“Are you going to be this insufferable the whole week?” he seethed, and Thomas shrugged.

“Define insufferable. Don’t feel like I am any of that.”

“Alright, then I’ll leave tomorrow,” Newt countered him, because he was honestly too tired already and couldn’t think of anything that would make Thomas to fall from his high horse for just one second. Or just show some understanding, because the moment they got in his room he made sure to make Newt as uncomfortable as possible. “You can tell your parents whatever you want, I don’t care.”

“Are you seriously throwing a tantrum over us sleeping in one bed?” Thomas sat up while putting his phone away and he had this old Star Wars shirt Newt got him for his 20th birthday and it was like a punch in his gut.

“Yes,” Newt just said and the warmth from the bath was slowly dissipating from his body, leaving him chilled and miserable.

“We slept together for 7 years,” Thomas objected with a small frown. “It’s not like you don’t know me. Or how I sleep.”

“It’s not like it matters in this situation.”

“I told you I won’t do anything,” another argument and Newt shook his head. He wasn’t even worried he would try anything; they were way past that phase anyway. It was just… so uncomfortable. “Jesus, Newt, please be reasonable. It’s cold, you’re shivering like a wet dog over there, I have perfectly normal, warm bed and we won’t even be touching. I don’t know what kind of block you have in your head, but can you just let it go for tonight and come here before you catch a cold and blame it on me too?”

“I-,” Newt couldn’t even start when a soft knock stopped him mid speech and the door opened few seconds later with Anna between them, smiling. Probably chaperoning, he would guess if he had a coherent thought.

“Just wanted to ask if you want chicken or steak for tomorrow lunch,” she chirped and Newt could almost see the loading screen in front of his eyes, for how much he couldn’t comprehend the sudden topic change.

“Go lie down, you’ll freeze out here,” she immediately noticed him standing there barefooted and pushed him gently towards the bed. “Do you want another blanket? I know you’re always cold. Thomas brought the fluffy one downstairs yesterday, should I fetch it?”

“It’s fine, I have two in here already,” Thomas interjected immediately and before Newt could react anyhow, Thomas reached for his hand and pulled him onto the mattress. “Will warm him up if that wouldn’t be enough.”

“Just try to be quiet, will you,” Anna seized them both in disapproving stare and Newt felt sick in his stomach. “So what. Chicken or steak?”

“I vote for steaks!” Thomas immediately shot out and Newt still didn’t understand what was even important about food in this situation, so he just nodded dumbly, and then Anna was leaving with good night and disappeared behind the door again, plunging the room into silence.

He could hear Thomas’ breathing close to his own and finally understood he lost this fight without much of a battle happening.

“Can we sleep now?” he heard Thomas ask, so he just slinked under covers and turned his back towards the man, feeling vulnerable and stupid at the same time.

***

They didn’t talk about the night. They didn’t really talk at all during the day, since when Newt woke up, Thomas was already gone, and Hannah mentioned something about him and his dad leaving early in the morning for whatever reason.

Newt hated how relieved he felt.

He spent most of the day with Anna making lunch and dodging questions about him and Thomas’ breakup and reconciliation. Anna didn’t pry as much as he feared she would, but she obviously wanted to know what happened three years ago and he had no nice answer for her, so he just kept it vague.

We stopped talking to each other properly.

We felt like we needed a break.

No, there was no bad blood between us, really. Absolutely no arguments that would cut too deep, I assure you. We just needed some time. We’re back together now after all, right.

The lies twisted so painfully on his tongue he was grateful when Thomas finally got back at 4PM and Anna’s attention turned to him instead. When the day progressed, Brian (Thomas’ dad) sat them all in the living room in the evening and opened his favourite bottle of whiskey he kept for special occasions.

They lit up fire in the fireplace and Anna brought over snacks, and just sitting there and chilling felt soothing to Newt’s guiltiness eating him up from within.

“We just sealed the deal with a new partner today,” Brian said in a booming voice when he was pouring a glass to Newt who was sincerely relieved his special occasion wasn’t Thomas and him dating again. Because that sure would send him out of the room quick, he could handle only that much before snapping.

“That’s fantastic,” he gingerly accepted the glass and watched Thomas doing to same when offered, wondering if he could somehow dump his own drink into his glass without being suspicious. They sat too wide apart though, with Thomas between his parents and Newt felt the gap deeply.

“That’s right! It means more work, but it’s going to be worth it!” Brian nodded happily and poured glass to Anna as well. When Hannah came with her own, he shooed at her to get juice instead, at which she pouted. “We were dealing with them on and off for about a year, so when they agreed to be a permanent supplier, it’s gonna make a difference.”

“You should invite the CEO for dinner,” Anna added to it and Brian immediately agreed. “But for now, cheers!”

Newt smiled and raised his glass as well, but his throat already hated it in advance. Once he sipped the wood-scented drink, he forced himself to remain passive and not make a disgusted face that was forcing its way up, grateful Anna and Brian were too busy planning what food to choose for the business dinner.

“Oh my god, can you stop shouting in my ear?” Thomas suddenly stood up when his dad leaned over him to his mum for umpteenth time. “Go sit next to her! Geez. I’m not a cushion you can bulldozer over.”

Brian laughed and pushed himself towards his wife on Thomas’ spot, which left Thomas to sit next to Newt with an unceremonious plop.

“I thought maybe cream cake for dessert?” Anna was brainstorming loudly in meantime. “Right, Newt? You always liked the cake.”

“Oh yeah, loved it,” Newt quickly switched his attention to her from Thomas’ sudden warmth next to him. “Think it’s a great idea for the dessert.”

“See!” Anna beamed at Brian happily and Newt flinched when his glass got bumped suddenly and he almost dropped it before he realized it was Thomas’ own glass touching it now.

“Pour some over,” he mumbled towards the blond quietly. “Before they notice and start pestering you about quality of well-aged alcohol.”

“Thanks…” he piped gratefully and hastily splashed most of his glass’ contents away. He noticed Hannah was looking at them, but she only rolled her eyes and started arguing with the parents that beef was no better than pork for the main dish.

“She’d drink it instead if she had a chance,” Thomas whispered towards him. “Going to be a fucking alcoholic before she reaches twenty.”

“Weren’t you the same though,” Newt objected automatically, and Thomas sipped his now almost full glass with a smirk.

“Never minded the taste, yeah,” he shrugged while licking his lips. Newt would believe from his expression the drink tasted good, if he didn’t know better. ��I still like beer more though. This can easily knock me out of my socks if I’m not careful.”

“Mm.”

“You slept well?”

Newt stiffed at the question, as he expected he would if Thomas was going to breach it, and then forced his body to relax again while gripping his almost empty glass firmly.

“Fine,” he only uttered.

“Are we going to have a problem again tonight then or is it fine?” he heard Thomas asking in low voice and refused to meet his eyes. The night was alright, he slept more or less okay too, but that didn’t pose a problem in the first place, and Thomas knew it. Newt couldn’t say if it was Thomas’ way of being petty or getting revenge, but it sure bothered Newt like a thorn in his side.

“Can’t possibly kick you off, when your mum likes to check up on us,” he mumbled with a quick glance towards Anna, still in heated debate over food with the rest of the family. “So let’s pretend it’s fine.”

“I’m not pretending anything,” Thomas scoffed. “I don’t mind sharing a bed. It’s not like you’re a stranger.”

“Sure.”

“Hmm,” Thomas let out and then moved again, lifting his legs and deposited them rudely on Newt’s lap while leaning against the side of his dad who barely even noticed.

“Sure then,” he was grinning when Newt shot him a glare. “Love of my life.”

“I swear I’ll murder you,” Newt gritted through his teeth and refused to acknowledge how his heart thumped when Thomas smiled at him like he just said something overly sweet.

“Looking forward to it,” the brunet responded instead while sipping their shared drink and Newt twisted his big toe in revenge. Sadly, it didn’t have much of an effect.

***

“What the fuck happened to you over those years, jesus fuck!” If anybody asked, Newt didn’t sound like a naggy wife scolding her husband, no sir. “You can’t hold your liquor for shit!”

“Whaaa-,” Thomas’ attempt to sound offended interrupted a loud burp and then fit of laughter, all that when he was plastered over Newt’s back who was unceremoniously dragging him back to his room.

“If you throw up over my back, you’re dead,” he warned the drunkard coldly and Thomas let out hehehe but didn’t deny it. Newt suspected him he could walk just fine but wanted to be as obnoxious as possible, so Newt would have to take care of him in front of his amused parents who left them to it. Newt would be much happier if Thomas’ dad would toss his son to the bed one armed, because he definitely could, and wouldn’t leave Newt to fight with the deadweight all alone, but then again maybe it was for the best.

True enough, Thomas had in total of four and half glasses full of whiskey, even though Brian laughed at him to get drunk after three shots. Naturally didn’t know every time he poured Newt a fresh batch, even though Newt tried to tell him no thanks, he secretly dumped it into Thomas’ glass who drank it, just to get refilled from Brian again as well, and that went until the bottle was empty and Thomas started giggling.

Which led them to the situation at hand – with Newt dragging his ex up the stairs and to his room – their room – while swearing like a sailor, and then just dumping him onto the bed like a sack of potatoes where Thomas landed with soft oof.

“Why’s the room sp’nning…?” he heard the muffled question shortly after, looking at Thomas’ boneless form of a dead drunk with his face half buried in covers. “Make it stooop~.”

“You feel like barfing?” he asked instead of reacting to the drunk observation and Thomas groaned, then tried to push himself up, just to fail miserably. He tried two more times until he realized he really couldn’t get up because his arms wouldn’t support him, and just had to worm his way up to the pillow by crawling. Which was almost painful to watch, honestly.

“Neeeewt.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” the blond buried his face to his hands until another whine of his name came and he walked to the bed and pushed Thomas on his back instead. That got him a sloppy grin in return in a drunk haze.

“Hi,” the drunkard slurred. “How’re ya?”

“Sucky,” Newt answered while crossing his arms on his chest.

“Oh noooo…” another whine. “Whyyy?”

“Have to take care of one smashed idiot,” Newt nudged Thomas’ side with his knee, earning another giggle. He couldn’t say he had experience with drunk Thomas – or at least with this much drunk Thomas. If he ever got inebriated enough to be considered wasted, he just passed out, usually. But today’s drunk Thomas sure had some annoying stamina and kept himself awake for too long.

“I’ll protect you from ‘im,” Thomas managed to reach out with his hand, grabbing at Newt’s sweater. “C’me to the bed.”

“I think you need a bucket first,” Newt let him pawn his sweater with a sigh.

“Mkay.” The hand on his sweater stayed, grabbing randomly, until it dropped to Newt’s thigh where it lightly squeezed, and Thomas let an appraising hum. “You got thinner.”

“It’s just your imagination,” Newt pushed the hand away and it bounced back onto the mattress. “Get changed, I’ll be right back.”

“Nooo…”

He ignored the whine and left the bedroom with a lump in his throat. Drunk Thomas could be bad for his conscience.

***

He got back half an hour later, after a bath and finding a bucket he could deposit at the edge of the bed, in hope Thomas didn’t manage to throw up in meantime. He found him sleeping sprawled over the mattress, right in the middle, still in the same clothes and smelling like a liquor store. There was no barf anywhere at least.

“Sweet,” he sighed while putting the bucket near Thomas’ possible trajectory of his head if he felt like bending over and vomiting. “Glad we had this talk about sleeping together, huh.”

He slowly crawled onto the bed, careful not to wake Thomas up (though judging by his occasional snores it wasn’t happening) and slid under the blanket as much as Thomas’ weight allowed him.

In hindsight… there was no way he could be mad at him anyway, for today. No matter how drunk the man got, he still remembered how Newt didn’t like alcohol and Newt hated how it warmed his jaded heart.

He fell asleep eventually, dreaming of grabby hands and sad smiles.

***

“Your mum is going to hear us, you ass!”

“Don’t care.”

“Tommy!”

No response, only hot lips on his neck, licking and biting and pampering it with kisses and Newt just remained pinned against the door of Thomas’ room, taking the weight of his boyfriend against his body and roaming hands grabbing at his butt and then traveling to his thigh, hiking it up to settle against Thomas’s hip. His heart was beating so loud he couldn’t hear anything else, just thump thump thump of his blood roaring, and Thomas’s sweet nothings he was murmuring to Newt’s ear in a rough voice.

“I want you so much,” Thomas whispered when unbuckling Newt’s pants, sliding his hand under them against hot, naked skin, and Newt couldn’t hold back a moan, he just needed him closer, he needed to kiss him, to touch him, to get him inside-

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Thomas bit out, voice strained, and Newt let him to lift him up and carry him towards the bed, their lips meeting in a messy, frantic kiss. It was painful, it was rushed, but it was what Newt needed, the brutal strength of Thomas’ body pushing into him and his own breathy moans coming out when their lips parted, and he heard a dull thud at some point when he was trying to hold onto the bedpost once Thomas thrusted into him so strong it made him see stars, but he didn’t care about anything else but pleasure and pain and adoration he felt when he was with him-

Newt woke up with a start, his body hot and aroused, and he felt on fire and caged and painfully hard. He could barely catch a breath when he noticed arms slung possessively around his torso and waist pushing him insistently against warm body behind him, waking up all his senses one by one like Christmas lights.

It took him a moment, the initial confusion clearing like a fog from his mind, making him realize Thomas was cuddling him from behind, one of his hands got under Newt’s shirt and was spread across his naked belly possessively.

“Shit,” he couldn’t stop himself from cursing and attempted to disentangle, but it only made Thomas to clutch to him harder, like a defence mechanism, unwilling to let go. He tried to push away one of the arms holding him, but Thomas slung a leg over his hips in response, trapping him even more.

“Don’t leave,” a sleepy voice sliced the silence and Newt stiffened once he felt hot lips on the back of his neck, mouthing there persistently.

“Thomas-.” He tried to turn around but couldn’t move an inch and Thomas bit down slightly, sending shivers down Newt’s spine.

“Mmm…” he heard the hum, and then the tense weight relaxed once Thomas fell asleep again, and Newt didn’t dare to move anymore.

It was going to be a long night and Newt refused to acknowledge the little voice in the back of his head screaming for relief by Thomas’ hand.

#newtmas #tmr #the maze runner #Last Resort series #newmas

14 notes · View notes

incognitoman1-2-3-4 · 4 years

Text

Observations - A K18 Short Story

A/N: To celebrate this blog turning three years old, I wanted to revisit an old Krillin & Eighteen story I had written some time ago and publish it here on my Tumblr with some minor improvements. If you would like to read it, I sincerely hope you enjoy it. Feedback is much appreciated!

K18 Forever ❤️

The serene ocean tide crawled ever closer towards Eighteen as she patiently roamed through the latest issue of her favourite weekly fashion magazine. Enjoying her mid-morning reading session, she mentally noted what items of clothing she pined to purchase and which ones she wished she could erase from existence.

“Seriously, who would want to be seen in that?" She vented to herself, squinting her eyes in disdain at the eccentric patterns on the outfit.

She flicked over to the next page, carefully readjusting her sunglasses. Well, they weren't exactly her sunglasses. She had successfully snuck them out of Krillin's bedroom while he was resting. It was a good thing that he was such a heavy sleeper, as well as being extremely generous with his belongings.

Little did Eighteen know that Krillin had awoken from his deep slumber and was now standing by the porch of Kame House. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the refreshing summer air before deflating his chest back to normal size. A content smile gradually etched itself across his dry lips; Krillin's infatuated eyes admiringly mused over Eighteen.

Sitting alone by the ocean's edge, she appeared as angelic as ever. Her face emitted a unique elegance unrivalled by any other. Krillin attentively observed Eighteen's subtle body language; her relaxed posture was a rare, yet pleasant sight. He decided to make his presence known, promptly advancing towards the shoreline.

The sound of Krillin's muted footsteps instantly caught Eighteen’s attention. Choosing to cast her magazine aside, Eighteen flicked her sunglasses to the bridge of her nose, fervently chewing on her bottom lip; he looked as fine as ever.

Despite his initial protests, she was so glad that Krillin acquiesced to her relentless insistence that he should grow out his jet black hair. Better yet, since the summer weather had come around, sightings of him without a top were becoming more and more frequent, permitting herself to gaze upon his well-toned muscles in all their splendour.

Sadly for Eighteen, Krillin had clothed himself this morning with a t-shirt that she had bought for him on their most recent trip to the mainland. Regardless of whether her little monk was topless or not, she didn't care what anyone said or thought about his appearance. To her, Krillin was simply stunning.

"Finally decided to get out of bed, uh?" Eighteen cordially greeted Krillin as he rooted himself on her left side. He retaliated swiftly with a kiss on her warm cheek.

“Well, you know me. If I ever get the chance to have a lay-in, I'll take it." He assuredly replied, spotting that his sunglasses were loosely hanging off of Eighteen's ears, "I see you've stolen my sunglasses again.”

"Hey!" Eighteen asserted, raising her arms in defence, "I didn't steal your sunglasses. I'm just borrowing them.”

"I ain't complaining." He then proceeded to straighten his sunglasses up for her, before adding, "You actually look kinda cute with them on.”

Without saying a word, Eighteen showed her appreciation of Krillin's kind comment with a habitual gesture. A gesture he didn't see all too often. But when he did, it meant the world to him.

"I've noticed you do that from time-to-time.”

"Do what?" She tentatively asked, feeling as if she had suddenly entered a "deer in the headlights" type situation.

"Don't worry. It's nothing bad." Krillin reassured her with a warm timbre in his voice, "I've just noticed that whenever I give you a compliment or if you see something you like, you have this tendency to needlessly brush your hair aside.”

Eighteen eyes immediately darted up to where her right hand was currently placed. It was exactly as Krillin described. She instantly felt the soft blonde tangles that ran between her fingers. In an effort to combat her self-consciousness, she instinctually moved her hand unto her lap.

"Have you seriously never noticed?" He enquired, watching Eighteen's face grow slightly perplexed.

"Not really, no. But if it's weird, I'll stop.”

"Weird?" Krillin answered calmly, pulling his knees up to his chest, "Take it from me. That hair thing you do is far from weird. It's just a quirky habit you have. That's all.”

“Habit?"

"Yeah. Everyone has them." Krillin added, lifting his eyes to the cloudless blue sky above him.

At that split-second, Eighteen's concerns morphed into curiosity. Now that she gave it some consideration, Krillin did have some fairly odd traits of his own. Realising this, Eighteen violently crashed her hands together with excitement. The resounding clash of her hands drew Krillin's eyes away from the empty sky and unto a far more captivating sight.

"You know, you sometimes start to laugh nervously when I stare at you." Eighteen astutely remarked.

Shaking his head from side-to-side, Krillin firmly disagreed with a great amount of confidence, "Erm- I believe you're imagining things because I'm pretty sure I've never done that before, babe." His confidence, however, was misplaced.

Eighteen silently folded the arms of Krillin's sunglasses, delicately resting them on top of her magazine.

"W-what are you doing?" His query reeked with diffidence.

Eighteen purposefully ignored him, electing to silently close the gap between them instead. Krillin dared not move, especially since Eighteen developed a kittenesque sheen in her eyes. She fearlessly pounced on him; Krillin willingly collapsed unto his back. The space between them was now non-existent. What quickly followed was inevitable.

"Ahh, damn it." He humbly admitted, "I guess you're right.”

"See," Eighteen gloated with raised eyebrows. She remained on top of him, resuming her point with a velvety inflexion, "and I think you laugh because you don't know what else to do when I have my eyes set on you.”

Krillin could provide no reply as strands of Eighteen's hair lightly tickled his besotted face. Her strong emphasis on the word, 'you' drew forth another excitable chuckle. Now that she had brought it to his attention, he couldn't stop himself. Nor did he want to.

Satisfied by the result, Eighteen distanced their proximity, if only by the smallest of margins. This gifted Krillin the chance to not only wipe off the soft sand from his back but also reveal another fascinating observation he made about Eighteen.

"Here's a good one!" Krillin's child-like enthusiasm gripped Eighteen, staring back him with a sense of anticipation, "You always make sure that the TV or radio volume is set at an even number.”

"You're kidding, right?" Eighteen answered him with a doubtful snicker.

"I am 100% serious. There have been times where I have deliberately set the volume at 19 and then I catch you changing it to 20 or 22-“

"Or 18?" She noted with a sense of irony.

“Exactly!"

"I can't say there's a valid explanation for it.”

"The only thing I can think of is that because of your name, you naturally prefer even numbers." Krillin's off-the-cuff reasoning technically made sense.

However, Eighteen wasn't fully convinced, logically stating, "If that's the case, then maybe my brother likes his volume set to an odd number.”

"That's gotta be true." He firmly agreed, "You should ask him the next time you see him.”

"Speaking of my brother, you two share a habit.”

"No way!" Krillin exclaimed with great elation, 'What is it!?”

"I wouldn't get too excited if I were you.” Eighteen warned him, hinting at the fact that this habit wasn't exactly a positive one, "You and Seventeen need to learn how to eat without talking at the same time.”

"Huh. I never would have imagined your brother doing something like that." Krillin remarked bemusedly. Even though he didn't know much about Eighteen's twin brother, he was relieved to discover that they did have something in common, even if it was as trivial as talking with their mouths full.

"Believe me, he's almost as bad as you." Eighteen slyly teased, sneakily resting her head on Krillin's shoulder. Sticking to the subject of her brother, she casually suggested to him, "Perhaps on my next visit to Seventeen's place, you could come with me.”

Eighteen almost lost her balance due to Krillin's sudden jolt. She fixed her eyes on him, studying the agitated expression which had rapidly overtaken him as he paced back and forth in front of her.

"D-do you think that's such a good idea?" Krillin responded apprehensively. This wasn't the first time the topic of Krillin meeting up with Seventeen had occurred. Whenever she mentioned it to him, he would quickly change the subject or brush it off with a fake smile. She decided it was time to tell it to him straight.

"What, so you don't want to meet him then?”

“N-no, I would like to meet him." Krillin unconvincingly replied.

Eighteen candidly returned with a stern tone, "Really? Because your face is telling me something completely different.”

Krillin halted in his tracks as Eighteen's words escaped her mouth. Disappointment followed her as she looked away from him, turning to face the transparent ocean.

Sitting back down on the sand, Krillin hoped he could clearly convey his anxious thoughts: "I really do want to meet your brother, Eighteen. I guess I'm just afraid that he’s gonna think that I'm not good enough for you. Or maybe we won't get along with each other.”

Eighteen's face perked up at Krillin's response. She could understand why he felt apprehensive towards her brother. Nevertheless, she desired to put his concerns to rest.

Taking a hold of his shaky hand, she sincerely reassured him, "Honey, you have no reason to be nervous. Seventeen is fully aware that we've been dating for a little while now and he seems pretty chilled about it. I mean even if he wasn't, I don't need his approval, or anybody else’s for that matter. I just think that we've been together long enough to pay him at least one visit from the two of us.”

"So, I don't have anything to worry about?" Krillin asked with a hint of courage in his voice.

Eighteen strongly shook her head, “None whatsoever. Besides, worst-case scenario, I’ll kick his ass and make sure he doesn’t even think about messing with you.”

Swiftly rising to his feet, Krillin boldly proclaimed, "Alright then! We better get going!”

"Go? Go where?”

"Well, I said that I wanted to meet your brother, didn't I?" Krillin clarified cheerfully, offering his right hand out towards Eighteen.

Gladly accepting Krillin's outstretched arm, she arose from the ground, asking with an ebullient expression, "You want to meet my brother right now?”

"Sure!" Krillin confirmed confidently, "I wanna do whatever makes you happy, Eighteen!"

His elegant blush was infectious; Eighteen's cheeks were being painted with an identical rose coloured hue. She tenderly caressed the sides of his face.

It simultaneously occurred to both Krillin and Eighteen that their impromptu decision to visit Seventeen was going to be a big step in their relationship. It was a step that neither of them could have even imagined taking when Eighteen first stepped foot inside Kame House. But they were so grateful that they had each other to take it.

As their bodies gently swayed, Eighteen inquisitively inquired, "Why are you so good to me, Krillin?"

The man in question instinctually released a nervous chuckle, before answering with a heartfelt resonance, "Because I love you.”

Neither of them knew for certain who exactly initiated the kiss. But one thing was obvious: neither of them cared. Their hands crawled around each other's bodies as their kisses grew more and more intense. It was a good thing Master Roshi and Oolong weren't around to see this. Krillin and Eighteen rarely got to physically express themselves since their housemates always stood around like vultures.

As Eighteen's fingers stealthily crept underneath his shirt to dance around the surface of his stomach, Krillin passionately pecked her neck, leaving little imprints of where his lips had been. It was yet another adorable idiosyncrasy Eighteen so dearly treasured about Krillin.

Soon enough, they carefully rested their foreheads against each other, leading them to stare intimately into each other's eyes. The exhilarating adrenaline which had thrust them into the moment was gradually settling down. Their pounding hearts were left playing catch up.

"Hey, Krillin?” Eighteen softly uttered, effortlessly attaining his gaze, "Before we leave, I just wanted to say thank you for doing this. You have no idea just how much this means to me.”

Little dimples appeared on Krillin's cheeks at the sight of Eighteen's signal of satisfaction.

"You just did your hair thing again.” He eagerly noted.

Eighteen embraced her little quirk proudly, "I know.”

"So, should we get ready to leave, babe?” Krillin asked, reaching down to grab Eighteen’s magazine and his sand-covered sunglasses.

"Hold on a second! I think I’ve forgotten something!”

“Huh? What did you forge-" Cutting off Krillin's sentence, Eighteen boldly pressed her lips onto his. She simply couldn't resist the alluring taste of Krillin's sweet kiss any longer. He gladly welcomed the interruption; he didn't mind being silenced if this was his reward for doing so.

Practising a rare instance of self-control, Eighteen gradually withdrew from their brief kiss, playfully stating, "Okay, now I'm ready.”

With every passing day, it seemed that Krillin and Eighteen managed to discover new things they adored about each other. From big gestures to small habits, each one brought them closer together and caused their love to deepen.

Taking flight to the endless blue skies above them, they joyously marvelled to themselves at where exactly their relationship was taking them. Their desired destination excited them. But the journey to arrive there excited them all the more.

THE END ❤️

#krillin #android18 #android eighteen #k18 #dragon ball z #dbz #dragon ball #db #android 17 #chestnut family #dbz fanfiction #k18forever

64 notes · View notes

f4liveblogarchives · 4 years

Text

Fantastic Four Vol 1 #228

Thurs Apr 30 2020 [07:47 PM] Wack'd: Johnny never struck me as a "literal jump for joy" kind of guy but he might just want to piss off Ben

[07:48 PM] Bocaj: I tried to do that jump and click heels thing but I don't wear shoes that click so I don't know why I bothered [07:49 PM] Wack'd: Hey so remember that girl at the racetrack Johnny turned down because he was nostalgic for Crystal? Well he's cool now and they're goin out

[07:49 PM] Bocaj: I can see how she won him over. "I've got a jacuzzi at my place" "You **DO**--?" [07:50 PM] Wack'd: Anyway Lorrie is coming over to meet the family so Johnny must be serious about her [07:51 PM] Wack'd: Unfortunately for him Reed just made a last-minute doctor's appointment for Franklin to use his neurologist friend's machine to peek at his mind [07:51 PM] Bocaj: Uh [07:51 PM] Bocaj: Sure [07:52 PM] Umbramatic: wha [07:52 PM] maxwellelvis: I smell wacky sitc-oh [07:52 PM] Wack'd: Sue is like "springing this on Franklin might make him freak out" and Reed, is...a good parent? [07:52 PM] maxwellelvis: Alert the Times [07:52 PM] Wack'd: He's like "hey, why don't we just be straight with Franklin and ask him if this is something he's okay with" [07:53 PM] Bocaj: Hello, The Times? This is your cousin, Marty. Do you know that headline you were looking for? Well listen to THIS [07:53 PM] Wack'd: And Franklin's like "yeah okay that sounds like a good idea, I also want to make sure I know how not to hurt people" [07:53 PM] Wack'd: A smart kid [07:54 PM] Umbramatic: this is going suspiciously well [07:55 PM] Wack'd: Hey, Ben. Buddy. Stop it

[07:55 PM] Bocaj: aw ben c'mon [07:56 PM] Wack'd: Thankfully he quickly regains his composure [07:56 PM] maxwellelvis: Before he drools so much he could be mistaken for Niagara Falls [07:57 PM] Wack'd: Anyway Reed's like "hey why doesn't everyone come with us to get Franklin's head checked out" for. Some reason [07:58 PM] Wack'd: Lorrie's a gearhead so she's into the idea of hanging around and riding in the Fantasticar [07:58 PM] Wack'd: BEN C'MON

[08:01 PM] Wack'd: Anyway, turns out the guy running Franklin's tests is one of Reed and Ben's old college professors. He is not a fan of Ben's attitude [08:03 PM] Wack'd: So Franklin's tests begin! They start with card guessing. Franklin's not great at it [08:04 PM] Bocaj: Do neurologists usually test ESP [08:04 PM] Wack'd: The professor points out that if Franklin's powers come at moments of stress it's likely that he's simply not got them turned on right now, chemically speaking [08:05 PM] Wack'd: Reed's like "we're not traumatizing my kid for science" and the professor's like "well no, obviously not, but we might be able to do something else to create that chemical reaction in his brain as needed" [08:05 PM] maxwellelvis: "You're not drugging my kid for science" [08:05 PM] Wack'd: Oh no, nothing so mundane [08:06 PM] maxwellelvis: You have me on tenterhooks. [08:06 PM] Umbramatic: oh no [08:07 PM] Wack'd: So what the scientist actually says is "we might be able to help Franklin achieve a state of such zen that he can manipulate his own brain chemicals." But the pictures tell...a different story

[08:07 PM] Bocaj: Garnet shoves the doctor aside. "Here comes a thought" [08:08 PM] Umbramatic: eeep [08:08 PM] maxwellelvis: "In such a state, one could walk on hot coals, sleep on a bed of spikes, and get a shot from the doctor without being scared or even needing a lollipop!" [08:08 PM] Wack'd: He's having his blood pressure taken actually [08:09 PM] maxwellelvis: Mine's funnier [08:09 PM] Wack'd: Anyway a quick google reveals that biofeedback is a real thing insofar as it's something that didn't originate in this comic [08:10 PM] Wack'd: It's apparently really good for stopping urinary incontinence in people with vaginas, and okay in dealing with some mental disorders, but doesn't work for much else [08:11 PM] Bocaj: Neurologist: "So we can't prove for sure it doesn't work for superpowers HUH??" [08:11 PM] Wack'd: Forty years have passed and most scientific studies on it are comparatively recent [08:12 PM] Phantom: and none on superpowers :P? [08:12 PM] Wack'd: So at a guess this was basically a health trend for the sort of folks who these days think LaCroix is a health treatment [08:12 PM] Phantom: probably [08:13 PM] Wack'd: The LaCroix comparison might be way too generous, we're in Sawbones territory now

[08:14 PM] Bocaj: Eesh [08:14 PM] Wack'd: Anyway Mr. "With Enough Mindfulness You Can Cure Cancer" decides to try hypnosis therapy on Franklin [08:14 PM] maxwellelvis: "You're not a real doctor, are you?" [08:15 PM] Wack'd: This man's classes were part of Reed's doctorate program [08:16 PM] Wack'd: Johnny and Lorrie meanwhile decide to go on a date and do the Superman thing

[08:17 PM] Wack'd: Freddie Mercury: You've made a powerful enemy this day, Human Torch

[08:19 PM] Wack'd: Franco Mercury challenges Johnny to a game of chicken in his portion of the Fantasticar [08:19 PM] Wack'd: Interspersed with Franklin finally getting in the machine [08:20 PM] Wack'd: I feel like there's supposed to be some kinda causal link but I have no idea what on Earth it might be

[08:20 PM] Wack'd:

[08:20 PM] Bocaj: Franklin was Johnny all along? [08:21 PM] Wack'd: So Franklin's brain vomited some "psychic ectoplasm" [08:21 PM] Bocaj: Wow this guy is dipping into every bit of paranormal bric a brac [08:21 PM] Bocaj: Are we sure his degree is real [08:22 PM] maxwellelvis: Are we sure Reed wasn't also classmates with Ray or Egon? [08:22 PM] Umbramatic: his degree is in "quackology" [08:22 PM] Wack'd: The true identity of the narrator of The Amazing World of Ghosts [08:22 PM] Bocaj: Do Reed Mi Egon [08:23 PM] Wack'd: ...what

[08:24 PM] Wack'd: Franklin...vomited his brain into this guy? And...and now Franklin's Franco? [08:26 PM] Umbramatic: Franklin Meurcury [08:26 PM] Wack'd: Boy, science is really taking some kinda beating this issue

[08:27 PM] Bocaj: Uhhhhhhhhhh [08:27 PM] Bocaj: Franklin is too powerful for his angsts to be doing this [08:27 PM] Umbramatic: science: "i love the young people" [08:28 PM] Bocaj: I EAT KIDS [08:28 PM] Wack'd: Yay Sue! Also not sure how I feel about this new invisibility effect

[08:29 PM] maxwellelvis: Feels more like showing off. [08:29 PM] maxwellelvis: Or at least, the sort of effect that really should have waited until digital inking was more viable. [08:29 PM] Bocaj: The invisibility is not very not visible [08:30 PM] maxwellelvis: "Due to a compatibility issue with Windows 95 graphics cards, the Invisible Woman is now extra-visible. To keep things fair, please close your eyes when fighting her." [08:31 PM] Wack'd: "It's not that I don't trust you, Abe. It's that all your theories are dangerous quackery and also you nearly got my son killed"

[08:33 PM] maxwellelvis: (That's not some weird non-sequitor, I'm paraphrasing the manual for Doom's Windows 95 port there; with some Windows-compatible graphics cards, there was a weird bug that made invisible enemies like Spectres less than invisible. The manual joked that you should make things more fair by closing your eyes if you encounters this bug.) [08:34 PM] Wack'd: Letters letters letters! [08:34 PM] Wack'd: ...i think i hate letters now

[08:36 PM] InbarFink: Letter pages are just glorified youtube comments [08:36 PM] Bocaj: Eesh [08:37 PM] Bocaj: Around this same time ish there were letters in the avengers comics complaining wasp is too weak and ineffectual and the response said they’d work on it [08:37 PM] Bocaj: So it’s not universal among fans at this time at least [08:38 PM] Wack'd: I'm just like [08:38 PM] Wack'd: The one time I can remember you print letters from ladies [08:39 PM] Wack'd: This is what you go with? [08:40 PM] Bocaj: Yeah it sucks [08:40 PM] InbarFink: would it be conspiratorial to sugget they got a LOT of letters about it and most of them were from dudes and they just picked the two with lady names on them [08:40 PM] Bocaj: No it wouldn’t [08:41 PM] Wack'd: I mean if that is true [08:41 PM] Wack'd: Good on them for not printing male misogynists? [08:41 PM] Wack'd: But just because a point of view comes from a woman doesn't make it worth your time [08:42 PM] Wack'd: Letters like "Murder your female lead" and "I prefer when she was hysterical submissive crying and helpless" are ones you can safely ignore no matter who they come from [08:42 PM] Bocaj: Yeah [08:43 PM] Bocaj: I wish unlimited was more consistent on whether they include the letters page [08:43 PM] Bocaj: It’s interesting to me [08:43 PM] Wack'd: Same [08:43 PM] maxwellelvis: "I'm not saying I WANT her to be killed, but I don't like her saving the day and that she should get beat up more" [08:43 PM] Wack'd: Hart literally says she wants Sandman to murder her! [08:44 PM] Bocaj: Wait until Ultimate hart, ya weirdo [08:44 PM] Wack'd: Alright let's move on. The current direction, whatever it ends up being, is only going to end up mattering for another three issues anyway [08:45 PM] Bocaj: Can’t wait for you to experience Byrne so I can also vicariously

#1981 #Doug Moench #Bill Sienkiewicz #The Main Book

2 notes · View notes

canid-slashclaw · 4 years

Text

The Outliers - A Guild Wars Love Story

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapters 10 and 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16 , Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30 Chapter 31

The reception was a riotous event with the amalgamation of five Tyrian cultures coming into play. Kaleb and Amalthia had already begun the festivities with a vengeance by consuming almost an entire cask of mead.

"Hold on. Aren't I supposed to take that garland off your thigh?" Kaleb said as he walked with a slight stagger.

Amalthia, who was also a bit more than tipsy herself, shook her head then reached for her a sword that she kept under her gown.

"Come and take it!"

"Bob accepts the challenge!" Kaleb drew forth his long-blade and soon the duel for claiming the garter was on.

Within moments, the husband and wife were locked in a sword fight as each deftly parried the attacks of the other. Kaleb tried in vain to catch his wife by the tail. But in each instance, she was too quick.

"I'm not falling for that again, love!"

Everyone in the wedding reception stood back as they watched the bride and groom clashing blades with each other. Soon, raucous cheers erupted from the many charr that were in the crowd. But it didn't take long for the humans and other races to join in as well.

"Then I guess I'll have to try another approach." Kaleb gently tossed his sword at her (handle first) in the hopes that it would distract her. It worked. By the time she realized the trick it was already too late. Kaleb tripped her over then quickly began tickling her in the ribs.

"Damn you! Stop it! I hate that!" Amalthia said as she laughed uncontrollably.

"Something I found out about dating a charr - they are very ticklish!" Kaleb said with a grin.

He picked her up, reached under her dress then put her back down on the floor and clasped her garter with his teeth. He, then, pulled it off her leg as she lay on the floor laughing. All of the men in the audience let out thundering cheers as he stood up with the trophy dangling in his mouth.

"Not fair! I'm drunk," Amalthia humorously said in protest.

***

The celebration had begun in full swing. Kaleb and Amalthia were the first to take their turn dancing in front of the bonfire, as they were serenaded by a string quartet that played one of their favorite songs. They moved in synchronous motion, each feeling the rhythm of the music.

"I hope I don't vomit on your dress. I've probably had enough mead in me to tranquilize a dolyak," Kaleb said jokingly.

"If you did, I would make you clean it up... using our tongue!" Amalthia gave him an affectionate lick on the nose.

Cynthia, who was dancing with Brad, overheard the remark and decided to chime in. "You two are disgusting. Every time I hear either of you talk, it's something to do with bodily functions."

"Easy in, easy out, I always say," commented Brad.

"It strengthens the relationship," Kaleb said with a chuckle.

"If you say so," said Cynthia.

Amalthia noticed that someone was tugging on her gown. When she looked down, she saw Katie looking up right at her.

"I think we have a new partner, love."

Kaleb invited his little sister to join them in dancing. "Show us your moves, sis!"

Within moments all three of them were dancing together in a tight circle.

Off in the distance, Amalthia's father propped himself up on his wooden cane. As he looked around the crowds trying to find a place to sit down, he heard a strangely familiar voice coming from behind. He turned around to look and to his astonishment, he immediately recognized who it was.

"It can't be... Karla?"

Amongst the throng of people, stood a petite middle-age woman with blondish gray hair tied up in a braid, who looked at him with somber eyes. "Hello Ludrick. It's been a long time."

Ignoring the pain in his foot and knee, the old charr threw down his cane then hobbled over to a human he had loved so long ago. She reached out to him and held his massive pawed hands as he gently placed them around her shoulders.

"I can't believe you're here. How have you been, Karla?"

She averted her gaze, unable to look into his eyes. "I've been well. How about you?"

"Good, but lonely now that my only cub has moved out." He gently began stroking her long hair hoping she would look him in the eyes.

"I am so glad for you, Ludrick. That's why I came. To see your child enjoy a chance we never had," Karla said as tears began to well up in her eyes.

"Karla. I didn't expect you to show up at my cub's wedding. I had given up hope of ever seeing you again and now that you are here, perhaps we could make this a reality... for us," Ludrick said while trying to hold her close.

Karla backed away. "I'm sorry, Ludrick. I wish things were different, but for us they are not. I've moved on. Look over there."

She pointed to a woman with two small children. "That is my daughter Eliana and her to children Robbie and Sabby. I married about a year after our encounter. I'm sorry, Ludrick. What we had was a beautiful moment, but that is all it was - a moment."

Tears fell from Karla's eyes as she clasped hold of the broken half of the medal that the old charr had given her so long ago.

Ludrick's heart sank. "I understand. But grant me one thing, Karla..."

"And what is that?"

The old charr bowed regally then offered her his pawed hand.

"Dance with me."

As Amalthia was dancing with her husband and Katie, her bandmate Navina came up to her and grabbed her by the horns.

"Lookie there, sis. See your sire? If that isn't a love-sick puppy, I don't know what is."

When Amalthia saw her father dancing with the human woman, she suddenly realized what was going on. She turned to Navina and said. "I... I can't believe it. You're right, Navi. Gah! Why didn't he tell me?"

Kaleb was completely confused. "Tell you what?"

Amalthia held his hand as she pointed him towards the direction of her father.

"Don't you see? It's as plain as day just like Navi pointed out. I should have noted the obvious."

"I'm still lost. So your dad's dancing with a human woman... what's the big deal?"

"Ugh! Males, sometimes. So obtuse! My sire was in love with that woman. He never told me straight up, but he did make plenty of comments alluding to that fact. I was just too dense at the time to notice it," Amaltia said while trying to remain calm.

"Then we should leave them alone, dear. Your father probably had good reason for not telling you. And I think I can understand his reasoning too," Kaleb said as he pulled Amalthia closer to him.

"He should have told Ama," Navina commented.

Kaleb shook his head. "No. Her father wanted to protect her more than anything. Besides, if news like that had got out at an earlier time then there's no telling what would have happened to his reputation amongst his people."

"Navi! You're jealous. Admit it!" Amathia said as she poked her bandmate in the ribs.

Navina sighed. "Yeah. I guess you can call it that. Okay, I'll admit - I am very fond of your sire."

"So you and my daddy-in-law got busy in the sheets, eh?" Kaleb said with a smirk.

"Love! Isn't that a bit crass even for a human like you?" Amalthia said chidingly.

"Nah. He's right, sis. I had a fling and now I have a thing for your old sire."

"What did I tell ya?" Kaleb laughed.

Amalthia shook her head. "Don't you break his heart, sis. That old furball has been through too much in his life."

"What about Kren? How does he feel about all of this?" Kaleb asked.

"He's taken Mia's loss very hard. Ever since she died, he's never been the same around me. Even when we mate, it's like he's a million miles away," Navina said with a sigh.

"Speak of the devil... look who's been talking to my dad," Kaleb said as he pointed towards a table at the far end of the dance platform.

Sitting together like two sullen fellows, Daniel and Krenesh took turns downing lagers in successive turns. Krenesh took a long swig from his mug then wiped the foam from his mouth. "I can't wait to get back to the front. Seeing my people dancing around, acting like fools not only depresses me, it makes me really pissed."

"Then you need to take a good look at yourself for once, and think about why they are having all the fun and you aren't." Brad walked over then handed his charr friend a fresh mug of custom brew.

"Bah! You're a human, you wouldn't understand. This sort of stuff makes us too soft. And soft is what gets one killed on the battlefield."

Brad shook his head. "I beg to differ, friend. It's what makes us sane. Anyway, I don't think ‘your people’ is what you are really concerned about."

"Oh?"

"You've been eyeing your girlfriend over there ever since she started hanging with Ama's dad. Have you come to love her as much as you did Mia?"

Krenesh snarled and growled then threw down his mug before stomping off. "That's none of your damn business, human!"

Daniel reached out to restrain Brad. "Let him be. He needs time to come to terms with his loss."

Brad shook his head. "He's not even trying, Dan. If he doesn't acknowledge the loss of his mate now, it will only cause more pain for him in the long run."

Cynthia noticed Brad chasing down the distraught charr, then decided to follow.

"What's the deal with the Blade leader?"

Brad turned to his fiancée. "He's still flipping out over the death of his mate. I just want to help him if possible."

Cynthia pulled him in and kissed him on the lips. "The best thing you can do is to give him his space. If you push too hard, it may drive him even further into depression. Have patience, hun."

Brad sighed then shook his head.

"I just hope he'll be okay."

"He will, so long as he has a friend like you," Cynthia said as she hugged him.

***

"Mind if I join you, dad?" Kaleb asked as he took a seat next to his father.

Daniel nodded then offered a toast. Moments later, Ludrick hobbled in as Kaleb pulled out a seat for the old charr.

"Thank you. My knee has been killin' me."

"Cheers, Ludrick," Daniel said while lifting up his mug.

"Cheers."

Kaleb looked at both of his fathers and grinned. He decided not to ask Amalthia's father about his interaction with that human woman as doing so might open up old emotional wounds.

"Quite a bash, huh?"

"You're four sheets into the wind, son."

Ludrick laughed. "I think it's more like, five sheets."

"Hey! I can hold my liquor quite well, in fact. My wife can attest to that," Kaleb said as he tried gulping down another ale. His attempt was only moderately successful as part of his drink wound up spilling onto his outfit.

"Ariyana's going to have your hide for staining that drab. That suit alone cost me two weeks worth of income," Ludrick jokingly growled.

Daniel chuckled and shook his head. "Any damages incurred are on me. Listen son, you might want to ease back on the brew. I know the two of you love the stuff, but your lives are going to be very different from here on out."

Kaleb looked at his dad and grimaced. "Oh no. Here comes the sermon. Yes, dad. I will be a fine, upstanding gentleman who is rarely, if ever, completely sober."

"Spoken like a true norn," Ludrick said as he raised his mug to a toast.

Kaleb looked around. "Speaking of norns, has anybody seen Ulfgar?"

"I haven't," Ludrick replied.

Daniel scratched his head then gazed around the partying crowds. "I heard he was gearing up for some big surprise. I wonder what it might be?"

***

Amalthia took Rachel by the hand and led her to just below the summit of Thunder Ride Falls.

"Where are you taking me?" Rachel asked.

"Trust me. It's a special surprise, compliments of Kaleb, Ulfgar and me," Amalthia said as her ears began to twitch.

"Oh. I get it. You're going to take me to the top of those falls and throw me off and make it look like an accident," Rachel commented cynically.

"Come to think of it... that's a very original idea. I hope you can swim!" Amalthia said with devilish laugh.

"Ha! I knew it!"

Within moments, a massive raven flew towards the edge of the falls then transformed into the old norn. Raising his hands aloft, Ulfgar shouted in a thunderous voice. "Rachel Grimwald - word has reached my ears of a certain song of legend you have been seeking. I have searched far and wide for such a balled, from the furnaces of the Black Citadel to the Frozen Wastes of the Shiverpeaks. But it was in Rata Sum that I finally found this tune you so diligently have sought."

As Ulfgar finished his speech, the sound of mechanized footsteps could be both heard and felt beneath the soft ground. Moments later, cresting over the peak, stood four giant golems followed by several strange flying machines carrying various visual and audio devices.

Rachel's eyes flew wide open as she saw the four asurans who rode atop the mechanical devices. "Oh my gods!! It can't be!?"

Soon, the entire valley was filled with the synthesized rhythm of the asuran band, SynR J-TX. Several flying machines hoisted up the band members and their golems from the peak then deposited them on a large platform that was placed at the far end of the embankment.

The electrifying beat of their music soon got the entire reception party hopping with jubilation. Rachel had passed out on more than one occasion due to the sheer excitement. Amalthia and Kaleb, meanwhile, began grooving to the band's latest just-released hit - N.R. GyZ.

Eventually, the festivities came to a close, as Kaleb and Amalthia were both passed out from exhaustion and too much drink. Everyone else, filtered out of the crowd until only immediate family members and close friends remained.

Lifting each one in his mighty arms, Ulfgar hoisted the passed out bride and groom over each of his massive shoulders.

"I'll get these two love pups back to their den. They've had a very busy day."

"Thank you for all that you've done, Ulf. My son will not forget this day."

Brad chimed in. "Given his current state, I think remembering may be more the issue."

"I was much the same way on my wedding day," Daniel replied as he watched Ulfgar place the passed out couple on the wagon.

Shirley stepped up and chuckled. "It's true. In fact, Dan here left more than one stain on my wedding gown."

Cynthia, who overheard the conversation, let out a long laugh. "Mamma Grimwald! My image of you as being the font of piety is now forever shattered!"

"She was a wild one back in the day," Daniel said as he held his wife of twenty-four years, close.

"People are far more complex than they appear," Ludrick commented as Navina helped to steady him.

"The two of you have been mighty close this entire reception," Cynthia noted.

Navina spoke up. "Okay. I confess. I'm in love with this brute. He needs someone to look after him, so I guess that 'someone' is me."

"What about Kren? How's he going to take it?" Brad queried.

"He has to sort out what happened to Mia first. For myself, I'm eligible to take leave in caring for this fellow's needs," Navina said as she gave an affectionate lick on Ludrick's cheek.

"You are aware just how awkward it will be if the two of you decide to get hitched. I mean you'll be going from Amalthia's 'sister' to her 'mother-in-law'? That's a bit creepy if ya ask me," Cynthia said as she laughed.

"Bah! Marriage is a human ritual. So no worries there. And who knows? If Kren decides to get his head on straight, it may wind up being the three of us sharing the same bed," Navina said with a toothy smile.

"The kinky factor just went through the roof. You think there's any chance of going doubles with Kal and Ama?" Brad said with a sarcastic wink to his fiancée.

Cynthia grabbed him by the ear. She, then, pointed to his lower regions.

"Try it and I'll borrow Navi's claws and use them to take out more than just your eyes."

(All chapters have been posted to AO3. Chapter 31 is posted here.)

#gw2 fanfic #guild wars 2 fan fiction #tyrias-library #the outliers #kaleb and amalthia #cw alcohol consumption

4 notes · View notes

ryik-the-writer · 5 years

Photo

Chapter 26 - Temporary Fix

[A03]

Chapter 1: Pan meets a Wendy Chapter 2: Scars (Felix’s Story) Chapter 3: Day One Chapter 4: Revenge and Fireflies Chapter 5: Brighter than Stars Chapter 6: filler: The Tigress Chapter 7: Operation Spotless! Chapter 8: Operation Spotless: Reporters Down Chapter 9: A Dance with the Devil Chapter 10: filler: Felix and the Pancake Chapter 11: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 1 Chapter 12: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 2 Chapter 13: The Girl With Blue Eyes: Underground Chapter 14. Recovery Chapter 14.2 Recovery some more Chapter 15: Trapped Chapter 16: Filth Chapter 17: Fairydust pt. 1 Chapter 18: Fairydust pt. 2 Chapter 19: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 1 Chapter 20: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 2 Chapter 21: The Mystery of the Dead Nun pt. 3 Chapter 22: Reflections pt. 1 Chapter 23: Reflections pt. 2

Chapter 24: Closing

Chapter 25: Felix is helping Pan

So guess what…

THIS BITCH FINALLY GOT A JOB AND HER OWN PLACE TO LIVE!!

HELL YEAH!!

So slight negative note on that: that kind of means updating is going to be REALLY slow for a while. The place I moved to, while really nice, is kind of out of my budget and I am pulling as many hours as possible to pay for it and such.

On top of that, the place doesn’t have internet and I’m trying to see what my budget will look like after I pay bills so I can consider getting my own (which I really need as a writer and as a journalist).

So just know, I’m not giving up on any of my stories. I’ve just started a new chapter of my life and have to let the ink dry before I can pick up my old interests.

Anyway, here’s Papers and Sleuthers…

-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-,-

Wendy half-heartedly checked that she had her notepad full of her old notes before she locked up to head to Peter’s. If he started acting up she could use her lack of supplies as an excuse to slip out. She truly hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She wanted this week to be a sort of awakening for them, a chance to finally pull the hatchet away from each other’s throats.

She was linked to him now in the worse way. They’d been through hell together so many times but it hadn’t done anything to shift their relationship into a more stable light. Perhaps if they took the chaos out of the equation something would change. Things really needed to.

She found herself checking her hair as she exited her apartment before she chastised herself. This was an after-hours investigation, not a date!

Wendy scoffed as she locked her door. Her and Pan on a date? What a nightmarish thought!

She grimaced when she reached his door, the unpleasant memory of confronting him the day Mother Superior died still vividly fresh.

“Tosser,” Wendy muttered, wanting to call him something much crueler. However, learning to tolerate him now that they were going to be in close proximity for an unknown amount of time might be beneficial.

With that, she took a deep breath and knocked softly on the door.

There was a light thud behind the wood before it opened, a wild Pan greeting her with a sharp once-over.

“You’re wearing that road-kill?” he scoffed, pointing harshly at her feathered sweater that had been more than appropriate for the weather.

So much for patience.

“Shove it,” Wendy hissed, pushing him into his trashed living room.

“The hell happened in here?”

Pan circled her, not answering, and pulled a giant marker board from the kitchen.

“I’ve started putting some notes together,” he said, adding a picture of Cruella de Vil on the board.

“Um…” Wendy started, her heart speeding up at the site of their old nemesis. “Where are we starting?”

Pan pondered at the start of his chaos. “From the beginning. The devil woman is our best bet. Somehow she set all of this off.”

“How do you figure that?” Wendy inquired.

Pan passed a folder over his shoulder to her, eyes still trained on the board.

Wendy shifted through its components, her gut dropping at the various photos of the dog murderer.

Her brow wrinkled in thought as she went through de Vil’s information. Exact date and location of birth unknown, though her last address was in Manchester…with her now-deceased husband. Wendy whistled at the rap sheet of her marriages. Four times, all but her last ending in death (the last abruptly ended in divorce following a major arrest of the husband.)

There was a scan of her passport as well, signifying that she had been in the country at least six months before she kidnapped Storybrooke’s dogs.

“Why here?” Wendy wondered aloud. “Why Storybrooke, and why dognapping? It’s such a cartoonish villain move.”

“Except in cartoons the villains wouldn’t bleed the dogs out and turn their skins into coats,” Pan muttered, back still to her.

“Coats?” Wendy gasped, the mental image making her stomach twist.

“Last page in the file,”

Wendy balanced the folder to find the page and blinked at the printed out copy of a news article before her.

MANCHESTER WOMAN CHARGED WITH 13 COUNTS OF ANIMAL CRUELTY

Wendy gulped at the picture of the drunk-looking mugshot of de Vil, her intense eyes seeming to stare right at Wendy, as if blaming her for her past crime.

A local woman is being charged with the kidnapping and death of several dogs.

The dogs, all of Dalmatian and mixed Dalmatian breeds, were taken out of the Manchester and Liverpool areas within a three week period, according to authorities.

The woman, identified as 39-year-old Cruella de Vil, was apprehended at an abandoned windmill outside of the Liverpool area where over 20 dogs were being kept. Upon her arrest animal control discovered the mutilated remains of eight dogs. The remaining five dogs very rushed to the Wrightsville Veterinarian clinic for emergency treatment, and are expected to survive.

De Vil is being held at the Wrightsville Police Station without bail.

This story will be updated as more information becomes available.

Wendy checked the date of the incident to find that Cruella committed her first act three years ago. She shifted to Pan’s slightly cleared off the counter to spread out the devil woman’s file and located an additional article.

MANCHESTER DOGNAPPER TRIAL UNDERWAY

The trial Manchester dognapper Cruella de Vil will begin Monday morning.

De Vil was charged with 13 counts of animal cruelty following the torture and murder of several dogs in January.

De Vil’s lawyer originally declined to comment of her client’s state for her case, but De Vil stated to the press before being led to the jail: “I’m not worried, Darlings. Who would sentence a woman in diamonds?”

Wendy snorted. Now that was quality journalism! She flipped to the next article.

‘DEVIL WOMAN’ CRUELLA DE VIL EXPOSES PLOT FOR DOGS DURING TRAIL

Manchester dognapper Cruella de Vil stated during her trial that she abducted the Dalmatians with the purpose of using their pelts for ‘the perfect coat’.

De Vil continued to go into great detail about how she mutilated the dogs ‘when it was their time’, much to the disturbance to the court.

“I took one pup by his stringy little tail and hoisted him up,” de Vil, who was clothed in an elaborate gown and furs, detailed, “The little bugger wouldn’t stop squealing, even after I slashed his throat open.”

Evidence shows that De Vil had dozens of sketches for coats not just for the Dalmatians she abducted, but also for poodle and Shi Tzu breeds. The sketches also showed plans for various muffs, boots, and glove items.

When asked what she was going to do with all the coats, De Vil said, “Why, wear them of course! I’ll be the envy of every bitch at the social club.”

De Vil's criminal record includes dozens of speeding tickets and two cases of vehicle homicide attempts. Records show that De Vil was acquitted for both cases and never paid off the tickets.

De Vil’s sentence trial will be held in October. Until then De Vil will be held in Manchester Sanitarium for the Mentally Unwell for further observation.

Wendy sighed in exhaustion. What a story! How could someone so heinous be so close to her neck of the woods?

The other articles were faded from an obvious lack of printer ink, but Wendy was able to make out enough from the headlines to guess what happened next.

De Vil was sentenced to two years in a different sanitarium that specialized in disorders like her. She was deemed “cured” after a year and released due to a special project. She left for America right afterward for a “fresh start”.

“Oh she stared fresh alright,” Wendy commented.

“Great,” Pan said from the board. “You’re where I was thirty minutes ago. Let me know when you get where I’m at now.”

Wendy resisted throwing De Vil’s folder at his head.

“I don’t think there’s anywhere else to go with this one,” Wendy pointed out. “She went crazy, killed a bunch of animals, ran here and started all over again. That’s really it.”

“But the motive!” Pan growled, looking her dead in the eye. Desperate. “There had to be something else. Maybe she was working for someone or trying to start a multi-dognapping franchise here or…”

Wendy edged back at the desperation in his voice. He was grasping at straws, but there were none left for him in this case.

“Pan,” Wendy tried carefully, “There’s nothing left,”

“How the hell would you know!” He shouted.

“Because sometimes people are just bad,” she shouted back. “Sometimes they do a few terrible things just to do them! There doesn’t have to be a reason or a great scheme behind their actions! They just cause chaos and kill over!” with a spike of adrenaline, she stepped up to him, feeling his hearted pounding in the buzzing air.

“Don’t they?”

Pan twitched, glaring at her with a raw sense of hatred.

Wendy thought for a moment he might throw her out, and she really didn’t want him to. Pan had to see logic, had to stop filling his mind with information that just wasn’t there, and she couldn’t just run off and leave him to fill in such non-existent gaps.

He’s scared. He’s frustrated. He needs to be kept busy.

With a deep breath, she stepped back to locate one of the other boxes on the couch, tensing a bit when she saw Jekyll’s name on the cardboard.

“We can start with him now,” she said, pulling out a folder.

In a flash, Pan slapped it out of her hand.

Wendy gasped and brought her stinging hand to her chest where a shallow papercut was surfacing, staring at Pan.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” he said, looking just as surprised as she did.

It was the closest thing to an apology she would get from him, she knew, and she expected it, but it still did not stop her from hating him.

“What is your problem!” she yelled as she sucked the blood from her stinging cut.

“Nothing,” Pan defended, though he was tenser than a tightly wound spring.

Wendy looked him over, trying to pinpoint the root of his harsh mood. Of course, going through their old cases was certainly stressful, with the memories that surfaced as they saw photos of their former nemesis faces…

Ah.

She stared at Jekyll’s case box where the corner of his photo was just peeking out, turning Wendy’s stomach.

Gods know what the site of him was doing to Pan.

The journalist stepped away, twisting to pick up de Vil’s box.

“What about her lackey’s?” Wendy inquired, picking through her file. She didn’t meet his eyes as she dug through the very scarce information. “We don’t know how they play into all of this outside their association with de Vil.”

Pan looked at her, his expression solid and unreadable, but Wendy swore she saw a glint of something in his eyes.

Gratitude?

No, Peter Pan didn’t thank anyone for what they did, for him or otherwise.

Good thing Wendy didn’t expect it from him, or anything else for that matter.

They began adding Horace and Jasper’s notes to de Vil’s board, though a now were quick glance told Wendy it wouldn’t add much. They were jailbirds on and off as far back as the records could show, became acquainted with de Vil sometime after their most recent parole hearing, and thanks to her and Pan were tucked safely in a Boston prison until they could be moved to one in London. Nothing more, nothing less.

But Pan wasn’t ready to accept that, so Wendy pretended to stay busy until she commented on ordering from the Chinese menu on Pan’s fridge.

Half an hour later they were sitting silently in his living room, munching on greasy eggrolls as they stared absently at the evidence before them.

Fuzz the cat made a lazy trail from Pan’s bedroom to where they were eating, plopping himself next to Wendy.

The blonde smiled, charmed by the odd-looking cat, and reached out to pet him.

Pan readied a warning. Fuzz was known to scratch first-time visitors to bleeding shreds, but with a flash of naughtiness, decided to let the little bird find that out for herself.

However, Fuzz the cat purred in delight at the attention and collapsed next to Wendy, hungry for more.

“You…slut!” Pan hissed at his sorry excuse of a cat.

Wendy’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“The damn cat,” Pan barked, turning back to his food to begin another round of silence.

Wendy shrugged and quietly offered him another eggroll, which he took with no additional fuss.

It was strange, this quiet domesticity. No violence, no fighting, no apprehension of what was to come.

It would have been peaceful if it weren’t for the wave of uneasiness Pan was letting off.

His leg was shaking with antsiness, and he kept making small sounds to break the silence.

I suppose it’s better than him yelling, Wendy thought. Might as well attempt conversation.

“So…” she begun, earning a questioned glare mid-chew. “I…ran into someone today,”

Pan looked up at her, looking slightly bored.

“And?” he shrugged, mouth full.

Wendy shrugged. Of course it was a stupid thing to bring up. Pan probably knew everyone in Storybrooke, and he had little interest for all of them.

“It’s nothing,” Wendy responded. “Just thought he was…” She searched her vocabulary for the word to describe the man with unsettling charming manners.

“Different,”

Pan’s eyes flickered at that.

Wendy Darling was smitten.

“Sounds like a scoop,” Pan smirked. “Let’s go find him.”

Wendy coughed on her fried rice as he stood. “What?” she laughed, truly mystified.

“Let’s go meet this mystery man,”

Wendy blinked trying to comprehend his shift in emotion as he put on his coat.

“Pan, it was dark out, I didn’t get a good look at him,” she explained. “I don’t even know his name!”

“It’s Storybrooke,” Pan waved her off. “We’ll find out who he is in an hour.”

“This is insane,” she barked with a laugh.

Pan wadded up her jacket and threw it at her, earning a yelp.

“Well, I’m bored. Are you coming or not?”

She stared at him, wondering just how high up the cliff of insanity he had already climbed. Boredom was making him scattered-brained and seeking action in the tiniest occurrence.

It was sad, like watching an animal trying to chew its way out of a trap, but also fascinating. Pan needed her, whether he would say it in words or in action. He needed her to keep him from jumping off that cliff, especially when they had no way of knowing what was waiting for him at the bottom.

With an exhausted sigh, she unraveled her jacket and followed him into the icy night, missing his satisfied smirk as he closed the door.

.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.=.

Wendy was having trouble keeping on his heels. It was dark and cold and he was the only one who really knew where they were going.

If he even knew himself.

Pan was all over the place tonight, and Wendy was starting to get dizzy from his back-and-forth.

She was practically having to skip to keep up with him. It was like he was forgetting that she was with him. Already he was trying to focus on something else.

Her loud cobbling seemed to echo through the street of Storybrooke, and in the dim night she felt a wave of paranoia run up her spine. It sounded like there was someone behind them, following them.

“Do you hear that?” she asked Pan.

“No, here we are,”

He stopped so suddenly Wendy ran into him, her face hitting him square in the spine. She gained her balance and glared at him before she stepped to his side, staring into the bright building ahead as it spilled vibration into the night.

“What is that?”

“The Rabbit Hole,” Pan smirked. “Sleaziest place in town.”

Wendy snorted through a shiver. “And you thing the well-polished man I ran into tonight is in there?”

Pan shrugged. “Maybe. Either way I want a drink. Come on,”

Wendy followed him with a sigh. At least she would get out of the cold.

Her ears began ringing as soon as she entered the nightclub, her eyes cloudy from the flashing lights.

“I don’t know about this,” she shouted, her voice lost in the sound.

This time, Pan took hold of her sleeve and pulled her through the cluster of tipsy people.

“Good thing it’s not a workday,” Wendy muttered to herself as Pan pulled her to a cluttered table.

She swept bits of food off the sticky surface, wincing at the music and hard chairs. Across her Pan was staring out into the crowd, his eyes glistening bright as he watched the gyrating bodies.

“You…come here often,” Wendy joked, feeling claustrophobic and savagely out of place.

“Once or twice with Tiger Lily,” Pan shrugged, somehow able to hear her over the music.

“And you’re not deaf?” she shouted.

“It’s not loud enough. It never is.”

“Huh?”

Pan looked up from the dancing sin to stare at her. Really stare at her. Truly look at her for the first time in days.

Her hair was growing out more evenly, her curls had even started to come back.

But the bags under her eyes were darker, hollower. She was tired, and he knew it was his fault.

“You want to dance?”

Pan looked as shocked as Wendy was when he looked back up at her.

“Did I…did I hear you right?”

Pan’s bright red face was hidden by the flashing strobe lights. The fuck did he say that?

“You’re not deaf yet are you?” he smirked, standing. “Let’s go.”

Wendy glanced out onto the dance floor. “I…think I’m overdressed.”

Pan glanced out at the half-clothed bodies and chuckled. He slipped off his jacket and undid the first two buttons of his shirt.

Wendy’s heart leapt and her throat tightened.

“You’re turn.”

Wendy shot from her chair, her clothes suddenly feeling stuck to her skin.

“Oh don’t be so damn modest,” Pan cackled, easing out into the dance floor. These little outbursts were giving him some energy.

Wendy shivered, feeling naked under her multiple layers.

Damn it! Why the hell did he have to get under her skin so easily!

She clutched her sleeves, watching as he began to get swarmed by dancers.

Yet…strangely enough…he was still waiting for her. As if he actually wanted her to come out there with him.

Keep him distracted. Keep him busy.

And he was actually smiling!

Well…leering, but he wasn’t as threatening as usual.

With a groan, she shed her feathered coat and eased out into the crowd, instantly getting sucked into the vortex of sweat.

She reached out for stability, hoping she wouldn’t accidentally grope anyone. Out of the sea of grinders a hand grabbed her wrist and—thankfully or unthankfully, she wasn’t sure yet—she fell into Pan’s chest.

“Bet you didn’t do this kind of dancing in your London prep school,” Pan snarked against her hair.

Wendy detached herself from his chest, getting some much-needed space between them.

“I went to a public school, thank you,” she barked, a smile tugging at her lips. It was hard to find a balance with so many people crushing them together.

“What do we…how…” she yelled, desperate for just an inch for space.

She felt Pan’s laugh rumble against her chest, the feeling much more put-together than the vibrations in the air. His hands snaked up her shoulder and gave them just enough space so that they could look into each other’s eyes.

“Just do what I do.” He said.

I already do.

He took her hands and helped her sway in their tiny space. Wendy could have fainted from the heat and the shock of the situation. Here she was dancing with the biggest arse in the entire world! She must be as mad as he was bored!

Her heart pounded as she copied his movements, almost afraid to let him go. So many people were brushing and bumping into them. She could easily be trampled, and something told her she wasn’t leaving the bar tonight without at least a cracked rib.

She looked up to find Pan watching her. He looked strangely human. Less territorial and ready to fight.

Like he was actually…enjoying himself.

“Okay,” he instructed, pulling her arm over her head. He began twisting her wrist and Wendy caught on quickly, letting her twirl her until spots flashed before her eyes.

But he didn’t stop, and she kept going, catching the light in Pan’s eyes each time she spun back to him.

And before Wendy knew it, she was laughing, the sound much more soothing than the trash flowing through the intercoms.

For a moment Peter Pan and Wendy Darling weren’t small-town reporters who got into too much trouble far too often.

They were just two normal adults who were having a fun, random night.

Wendy couldn’t remember the last time she did something like this. Perhaps back in college…when she wasn’t as dark, before the bloodshed and the grittiness of the world became part of her daily routine.

And it was nice to be having this fresh taste of life with the person who had drug her into it.

“Not bad, Wendy Bird,” Pan teased as she grabbed on to his shoulder to stop the dizziness.

“Same to you, Peter Pan,

He scoffed, covering the hand on his shoulder and grasping this one.

“Let’s make you fly.”

With that, he pushed into the crowd, anchoring her with the hold on her arm. She spun back into him naturally, howling like a fool.

“Don’t let go if you’re going to do that,” she laughed.

“I promise, I won’t.”

Wendy had to admit, she rather liked this fun side of him. Sure, he was really just distracting himself from his current issues, but he was doing it in a constructive way that was keeping them both out of harm's way…mostly.

She nearly slammed into a dancer during her second twirl. When she spun back to Pan she was ready to tell him to try something else, but he looked so…happy.

She couldn’t do it…and had he had said he wouldn’t let her get hurt.

And she was safe…

Thank you.

Until he spun her out again…

Time to fly.

And let go.

He was gone in the blink of an eye and she stumbled out into the crowd.

The more drunkard dancers shoved her away and she stumbled to find stable ground.

“Pan!” She called out, drowning.

She was wedged between so many people, blind and hot.

“Pan!” She yelled again, feeling for him. “Where are—“

Someone’s elbow pounded into her lip and she flew to the sticky ground. Blood filled her mouth in seconds, and she stopped caring if she found Pan or not and started searching for a way off the dance floor.

Pan had taken them too far out. She had no idea where she was. People were stepping on her like she was nothing. On her hands, her hair.

She was going to die here. Had Pan done this on purpose? Had he really hoped her death would somehow entertain him?

She was going to die and no one would know until the club closed, or morning at least.

She was going to die…

“I got you lass!”

She was picked up effortlessly and drug from the crowd, the person clutching her moving through them like Moses through the parted sea.

A savior, it would seem.

Before her brain truly recognized what was going on, her savior had her outside, away from the noise and her unintentional murderers. Her lungs painfully filled with fresh, icy air and she started coughing up blood from her wound, very uncaring how disgusting she looked to her companion.

“There you go, love,” the savior—a man?—instructed, patting her back. “Get the sin out of your lungs.”

Love…

Wendy brushed her bangs from her eyes and met the haunting blue eyes of her earlier savior, the very man she and Pan had set off to find.

“You!” she gasped, nearly laughing with the insanity of it. “I…we…hi!”

He chuckled. “Hello again.”

She tried to catch her breath as she went back and forth with the odd coincidence and Pan’s disappearance.

Disappearance…or abonnement?

Wendy’s stomach flipped when the idea passed through her mind. It seemed almost too cruel for him to do, yet it seemed like something that he would do.

He was all over the place tonight, jumping back and forth like a frog on a scorching lily pad.

But really, he was always like that, she just hadn’t accepted it yet.

And now he had left her to be trampled to death in a night club, wandering off to gods’ knows where.

And he didn’t care. He just didn’t care.

“Are you alright?”

Wendy blinked, not realizing that her eyes had been misting.

“Yes, of course,” she breathed deeply and stood. “I just…I need to get home.” And get a club, she added to herself.

“I’ll walk you,” he offered immediately.

“Thank you, but I’m fine.”

The man chuckled. “Each time you say that I find you in peril,”

Wendy made a sound, not wanting to be rude but really not wanting to stick around much longer. “Really I’m fine. But thank you.” She nodded at him and began walking away, the raging fire in her heart, melting the ice in her bones.

“Killian Jones.”

Wendy paused and glanced back at him. “What?”

He smiled, at pearly whites and charm. “My name. I think it’s about time, you learned it.”

Wendy worried at her lip, letting the name rest on her mind. It suited him somehow. An old-world name for an old world charmed man. It was an interesting combination.

“I see. Well then, thank you, Killian Jones.” She said with a nod, picking back up her step.

“Wait.”

Wendy halted, slightly aggravated. If he turned out to be a maniac like Jekyll she’d bash his lights out with a chunk of ice.

He stepped forward, his hands resting in his pockets, showing he meant no harm, posed no threat.

“Would you like to get a drink sometime?”

Wendy laughed, her face burning. “That’s…forward.”

Jones chuckled with a shrug. “With your track record, the next time I may see you is in a hospital.”

Wendy shrugged that was true. She gave him another look over. Mysterious creature of the night.

She had learned already that trusting people was too dangerous, especially the kind who lurked in the dark.

She didn’t know him, and he, despite his multiple rescues, didn’t know her.

“Why on earth would you want to have a drink with a perfect stranger?” she inquired aloud.

Jones cocked his head, his eyes gleaming with intentions Wendy couldn’t trace.

“To get to know you, of course.”

Wendy stiffened, her anxiety rising.

“That’s not a good idea,” Wendy gasped, desperate for space. “I have to go find…” she shook her head, her mind too cluttered to find a definition for her current view of Pan.

“If you change your mind,” Jones called after her. “I’ll be waiting. Tomorrow at the diner.”

Wendy increased her speed, making a direct line to Pan’s apartment.

She was going to kill him. She’d made the threat many times before but this time she meant it.

He left her.

He pulled her into all of this madness, and then just released her to break her neck without him.

Where had he gone? What temporary rush was he following now?

Why hadn’t he taken her with him?

She found his apartment the same way they had left it: locked up and dark. She searched for a spare key in the places anyone else would, but Pan wasn’t like everyone else and thus wouldn’t think to leave a spare key.

Out of aggravation, she picked up a loose brick, check over her shoulder, and hurled it into the glass.

It was exactly something Pan would do, and Wendy couldn’t help the small flame of satisfaction that came with damaging his property—which she had to plan to fix thank you very much.

She stormed in, flicking on lights and opening doors to find him. Fuzz the cat ran out of the bedroom as she checked behind checked in his closet.

“Pan!” she howled, her hands shaking.

Why?

“Where are you?”

Pan wasn’t there. He hadn’t returned to hide from her or even to continue their work. He had vanished completely with no warning for her.

With a stiff sob, she collapsed on the couch, feeling right at him with the shattered remains of his home.

“Peter…”

He left you.

“He left me.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

He wasn’t sure when or where he was.

But it was bright there, and surprisingly warm. It couldn’t be a memory of his childhood. Those were always dark and cold.

But he was somewhere…at least he thought it was him. There was glass in front of him, well-made and clean, and big enough to cover an entire wall.

But he couldn’t see his reflection…

Nor anything outside the window.

That’s why when the little bird flew closer, it terrified him.

“Stop…” he tried to scream just as the bird hit the window.

A loud bang…

It landed at his feet—

Its neck was broken.

He startled into consciousness, his fuzzy mind going into an automatic death mode.

Someone had grabbed him…he thought.

One second he was throwing Wendy out—letting her fly just enough from him—and then she was flying out of his grip while he was being pulled further from her.

He wasn’t sure what happened after that, but now he was tied up in some sort of darkroom, his hands above his head on some kind of meat hook, by the fill of it.

Something equivalent to a lantern was in the corner, giving him just enough light to keep him from going into a state of complete panic.

Jekyll’s prisons were always too bright.

A noise indicated he was no longer alone. A second later a door in the corner opened, and a man stepped in, the light behind him silhouetting him just long enough for Pan to get a good idea of him.

“Good to see you again,” the man said as he pulled a chair up and straddled it.

“Again?” Pan scoffed. “Go to hell, you wanker.”

“That’s captain to you, boy,” he returned firmly. “Captain Killian Jones, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t care, and know, who the fuck you are.”

“I don’t expect you to,” Killian said casually.

“I tend to forget people who aren’t worth remembering,” Pan smirked, his face warmer from the trail of blood leaking from his temple.

Killian chuckled, charmed. This was going to be the most fun he’d had in a while.

“I suppose it won’t matter anyway,” he sighed. “Not with you knocking on death’s door.”

Pan licked his lips. A challenge at last!

“Oh really?”

“Yes,” Killian said. “You see m’boy, I’ve been sent by someone who really wants you dead.”

“You’ll have to be a bit more specific,” Pan winked.

“No one you’ll need to worry about,” Killian alluded. “Just know that you’ve caused enough trouble that it warrants a very clean—and if you behave yourself—a very quick one.”

Pan scoffed. “If I’m scheduled to die, know that I’ll make my last days your worst,”

Killian seemed unphased by Pan’s threat, and while Pan wasn’t yet worried about it, it did make his gut turn just enough to be noticed.

Then, Killian laughed, and tapped his fingers on the back of the chair.

“You know, you actually gained our attention after that boy with the scar inquired Henry Jekyll’s files,”

Ice…the blood can’t move.

“Oh…I can’t quite remember his name…”

You have to keep count of the spasms…you have to know where the blood is going…

“That’s his benefit I suppose,” Killian smirked, watching as the blood drained from his face.

Felix…oh Felix I’m sorry…

“After all, it’d be a shame if that poor boy succumbed to one of his little fits in the privacy of his own home one afternoon…”

Pan bolted against the restraints, blood raging and teeth desperate to break skin.

“You fucking go near him I’ll kill you!”

Killian grabbed Pan by the jaw and forced him into the wall, pressing his knee into his stomach.

“I’d love to see you try,” Killian husked, his ice blues evenly hitting Pan’s forest greens. “I’d love to see you help any of them. Him, that pixie of a girl who hates you more than life itself…” his grin widened. “And that pretty blonde distraction you brought into this whole bloody mess.”

“Wendy…” the word left his lips before could stop it.

He didn’t know how to protect her the way he did the others.

“Such a pretty name,” Killian gloated. “Such a pretty girl at that. And she’s so desperate to find you, even after to abandoned her on a dangerous dance floor,”

Pan glared at him. “You bitch,”

Killian released him and made his way to the door.

“I’ll take no pleasure from killing her, m’boy,” Killian said, surprisingly quite truthfully. “However, this is as much to do with her as it does with you.”

Pan dug his nails into the cloth binding his wrists, trying desperately to stare a whole through Killian’s heart.

“How quick or how slowly she goes depends on what you can do for me within the next few days,”

Pan winced.

“Goodnight,” Killian winked, turning off the light and enclosing Pan in a blanket of darkness.

#darling pan #darling pan fic #wendy darling #peter pan #killian jones #captain hook #papers and sleuthers #ryik's fics

10 notes · View notes

cinder-wulf · 4 years

Text

Character Questionnaire: Cinder

Player Task 001: Character Development.

BASICS

1. Height?

I'm 5'7".

2. Eye colour?

...green, though Haruhime called it forest green.

3. Do they need glasses?

I don't. I have a hunter's eyesight.

4. Scars and birthmark?

None.

5. Tattoos and piercings?

None. I was thinking of getting the same tattoos as Haruhime, though. Hers were amazing.

6. Right or left handed?

Both. (He is ambidextrous.)

7. Any disabilities? Physical or mental.

None.

8. Do they have any allergies?

I'm not sure. I got sick after eating crabs once but I did eat a lot of them that one time and I haven't gotten sick from eating crabs since.

9. Favourite colour?

Green. Sometimes red.

10. Typical outfits?

My kannushi clothes. My mentor Ryuki gifted them to me, so they're...nice.

11. Do they wear any makeup?

Nope.

12. What weapon do they use, if any?

I use my ceremonial scimitar, which is basically just a normal scimitar but with the Sai family's special emblem. They're very traditional, you know.

PERSONALITY

13. Are they more optimistic or pessimistic?

I'd say I'm both. (Nope, he's very pessimistic. He only gets optimistic for money.)

14. Are they introverted or extroverted?

Extroverted. (Nope. They were extroverted before but the Sai family tragedy has since turned them introverted. They do get extroverted for money or when drunk but by default they've since been introverted.)

15. What are their pet peeves?

...questions. Lots and lots of them. (Also, anything that smells bad. His senses are heightened somewhat.)

16. What bad habits do they have?

None...of your business. (They can be very moody and antisocial. Their habit of keeping secrets can be terrible as well, especially if it ends up to the detriment of their allies.)

17. Do they have any phobias?

I fear nothing. (He's afraid of spiders, well, getting surprised by them at least, and flying roaches.)

18. How do they display affection?

I don't. (He used to be very touchy and even wrote poetry for Haruhime before. These days, he rarely does, unless it's for money or when he's drunk.)

19. How competitive are they?

Eh, not very. (He is secretly super competitive but only with things like hunting, tracking, basically things that he associates he worth with.)

20. If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?

Nothing. I'm perfect the way I am. (He secretly wants to change his heritage. He sometimes believes that if he wasn't who he was born as, the Sais wouldn't have suffered their tragedy.)

21. Do they have any obscure hobbies or routines?

Nope. (He observes what can only be described as the equivalent of real-world Shinto worship to Melora. He also has a soft spot for incense, tea ceremonies, and for some strange reason, flower decoration.)

BACKSTORY

22. What are the names and ages of their close family members? Parents, siblings, etc.

The Sais, master Ryuki and Haruhime, were my family. Master was old enough to be my father and Haruhime was around my age when we first met. (Cinder never met his real parents, as he was abandoned as a child. He does not know where his parents are if they are even still alive today or if he had any siblings.)

23. Is their family alive and are they still in contact with them?

...no. (The Sais passed away after suffering a tragedy, and his last contact with Ichi, Haruhime's cousin, was three years ago. He has no idea if his biological family is alive, having never met them.)

24. Where are they from? City, nation?

I'm from the far east, where cherry blossoms bloom and snow falls.

25. Did they have a childhood best friend?

Yes. Her name was Haruhime.

26. Have they had any pets?

No. I am usually the pet.

27. Did they grow up rich or poor? What were their living conditions like?

I had to fend for myself growing up when my family abandoned me as a child. That was, until I met the Sais who accepted me as their own. We lived simply, neither rich nor poor, in the service of the Sai family shrine.

28. What is their educational background?

I was mostly taught by the Sais. (He was tutored, basically home-schooled, by the Sais. He is surprisingly very literate and well-versed in magic, which he refers to as his "okurimono," and religion, specifically everything involving Melora.)

29. As a child, what did they want to be when they grew up?

I wanted for nothing but to live with the Sais until my last.

30. What advice would they give to their younger self?

...to never leave the Sais' side and protect them at all cost, even if it means your own life. There is nothing else past them, only sorrow and despair.

31. Growing up, were they ever bullied or were they the bully?

Neither. (He was most definitely bullied for being a homeless runt...until the beast within scared his bullies off. Then he was chased away by concerned parents.)

32. Who do they look up to/who is their role model?

Haruhime...and Ryuki. (Cinder didn't just love Haruhime. He actually looked up to her as a role model and saw her as his hero, being everything he wished he could have. Ryuki was more of a father figure to him, having taught him most of what he knows, than a role model, but he does admire his patience and commitment.)

PRESENT

33. Do they currently have a place of residence?

...yes? (Technically, no. He does have a room at Lunacrest, sort of, but he's always scrambling to pay his rent. The only reason he still have it is because the owner takes pity on him after accidentally hearing his story from a drunk Cinder, extending his due date whenever he can. Cinder also often wakes up in random stables, sometimes right outside the gates, after nights of heavy drinking.)

34. What is their most treasured possession?

My kannushi clothes. My ceremonial scimitar. The things that remind me of home and the Sais.

35. What is their drink of choice?

...the Redheaded Harlot. (Deep amber red and thick like blood, this shot is supposed named after a tavern's best lady of the evening. Made from fermented berries, Tree Ent Root, and Deer's blood, the rim of its flagon or glass is usually also coated in honey and dipped in a red sweet powder that is to be licked before pounding down the drink. It is said that all who drink this become very charismatic towards the opposite sex for the entire time the drink is in their system.)

36. Which king/queen are they loyal to, if any?

Whoever will pay me the most, of course. My loyalty is for sale to the highest bidder.

37. Have they ever killed anyone?

... (He has, though he never speaks of such tragedies.)

38. What was their last promise and did they keep it?

... (He promised the dying Haruhime that he would live his life like she did hers, without bitterness and anger. Clearly, he has failed to keep it. He had tried before but he just couldn't keep to it.)

LOVE

39. What was their first kiss like, if they’ve had one?

It was...the best feeling I've ever had. (It was actually pretty brief, as it was an accidental kiss between him and Haruhime. She was trying to surprise him with a peck on the cheek but he turned to look at her, curious at what she was doing.)

40. Are they in a relationship/have a love interest?

... (Haruhime was the love of his life, and he believes he will never love another.)

41. Have they ever been in love?

...yes.

42. Have they ever had their heart broken?

... (Haruhime's untimely passing broke not only his heart but also his spirit. He hasn't been the same since.)

SPIRITUALITY

43. Do they follow a god, if so who?

I follow Melora, though the Sais know her by a different name. I used to know her by a different name as well, but names are less important than what they do.

44. What do they think happens to them after death?

I'll be reunited with the Sais again.

45. What is their spirit animal?

A wolf...or maybe a fox. Both?

#romtask #character development

2 notes · View notes

vminni · 5 years

Text

Besties Pick Bae

“I just don’t understand why we have to do this,” Jisung whined, knocking his heel against the leg of his chair. “It’s stupid.”

“We’re doing this because you need a man and you have terrible taste.”

“I do not,” Jisung huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared at Seungmin. “My taste is fine.”

“Your taste is trash,” Jeongin chimed in. “Trust us on this one.”

“Excuse me.” The camera director looked like he’d aged 20 years in the last five minutes, “I’ve asked three times. Could you please just introduce yourselves?”

“Oh right, sorry,” Seungmin didn’t look the least bit sorry. “Our bad.”

“Just your names and ages for now please. Starting with Jisung.”

Jisung eyed the camera sullenly, “Hi, I’m Jisung and I’m 19.”

Seungmin waved brightly, “I’m Seungmin and I’m 19 years old.”

“And I’m Jeongin and I’m 18,” Jeongin’s smile was blinding.

The camera director sighed, “Jisung, could you try to look like you want to be here?” “I don’t want to be here,” he rolled his eyes, but plastered on a fake smile anyway. The faster he got this over with, the faster he could go home and plot his revenge on the two idiots he called his best friends. “Hi! My name is Jisung and I’m 19.”

“Better, now talk a bit about why you came on the show.”

“Basically, my friends think I have shit taste in men and signed me up for this without my knowledge because they think they know better than I do. They’re wrong and I can’t wait to prove that today.”

The camera director rubbed tiredly at his temples, “You know what? Fine. That’ll be our angle for this episode. Be as bitter as you want, we’ll just run with it. Next question. What’s your type?”

“I don’t have a type,” Jisung shrugged. “Just boys.”

“Wrong,” Seungmin piped up. “Jisung’s got a superiority complex. His type is people he thinks are below him. He doesn’t want anything to do with anyone who’s better looking or more talented than him. He only goes after people he knows will worship him.” “That’s not true!”

“It is,” Jeongin agreed. “So today we want to find him someone he would never pick for himself. Someone who’ll push him out of his comfort zone and make him a better person.”

“Jisung is super creative, so we want someone like that for him. Someone who does something in the arts, whether it’s music, dance, sculpture, paint. Anything like that.” Seungmin smirked at the camera, “And preferably super hot.”

Jisung smacked him on the arm and the two of them squabbled for a bit as Jeongin stayed smiling at the camera.

The director rolled his eyes and cut the scene. “Alright, Jisung, take this blindfold and put it on. We’re going to move your chair so your back is to the stage. Seungmin and Jeongin you can stay there. Once all the boys are in, the blindfold can come off.”

Jisung did as he was told, resettling into his seat once it had been moved. He clutched at his bopping knees, nerves starting to set in now that this was actually happening. He hadn’t been on a date in a while and he never been on a date with a stranger. Especially not one his two idiot friends were choosing for him.

“Alright, guys. Come in and line up, then we’ll start with introductions.”

Jisung could hear footsteps and shuffling as his potential dates all settled into place behind him. He could also barely make out Seungmin and Jeongin whispering to each other, but their actual words were lost in the noise.

“You can take off the blindfold.”

Jisung did so, resisting the urge to turn around and ruin the whole thing. His heart was starting to beat a little faster and he wondered if his face was as red as it felt. This whole thing made him feel vulnerable, and it was not a feeling he enjoyed. Jisung liked being in charge. Today everything was out of his hands.

“Please introduce yourselves.”

“Hi, my name is Chris, but you can call me Chan if that’s easier. I’m 21 and I’m a swimmer.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Hyunjin.” There was a bit of shuffling from Seungmin and Jeongin at that point and Jisung could tell from their smirking faces that Hyunjin was hot. He dropped his head into his hands and sighed. “I’m 19 and I’m studying to be an interior designer.”

“My name is Changbin, I’m 20 years old and I’m a rapper.”

“Hello, I’m Woojin. I’m 22 and I like to sing.”

“G’day, I’m Felix. I’m 19 and I’m a third degree black belt in taekwondo.”

“Hi, everyone,” the boy giggled slightly and Jisung lifted his head up, suddenly intrigued. “I’m Minho. I’m 20 and I’m a dancer. I used to backup for BTS.”

“He sounds cute,” Jisung breathed, not even realizing he’d said it out loud until he heard that pretty giggle again.

“Thank you,” the smile was obvious on Minho’s voice. “You sound cute too.”

Jisung flushed and looked down, twisting one of his rings around as he did his best to avoid his best friends’ gazes. He glanced up briefly and Jeongin shot him a wink and two thumbs up. Jisung flipped him off in return.

“So far everyone sounds really good. Everyone is artistic, which is one of the major things we’re looking for. Jisung is into writing and producing music, so we definitely want someone creative. There’s a couple people that stand out right now, but we’ll have to see how it goes.” Seungmin clapped his hands together, “I’m excited. First question, thoughts on horror movies?”

“I’m not much of a movie person.” Jisung had already forgotten half the contestants names, but he imagined they were answering in the same order they had introduced themselves in. “I don’t really have time for them.”

“I don’t like horror movies.” That was Hyunjin. He could tell just from the way Seungmin and Jeongin were looking at him. He had no doubts they were going to try to keep him around for as long as possible, even though his first answer already went against Jisung’s.

“I like horror movies!” Jisung knew that was the boy who said he was a rapper, but his name was escaping him at the moment.

“I also like horror movies.” Jisung had no idea who that was.

“I hate scary things. Comedy is more my style.” That was the boy with the deep voice and the English name.

“I love all movies!” Jisung knew that was Minho. He straightened a bit at his voice and heard Jeongin giggle lightly at his obvious interest. “Horror movies are great because they lead to more opportunities for cuddling. And I really love cuddling. ”

“Jisung is a big horror movie fan,” Seungmin tapped his finger against his lip. “I’m really sorry, but we’re going to have to let you go Felix.”

The eliminated boy stepped down and exited the room, walking past Jisung as he did so, “Good to meet you, mate.”

“You think he’d be interested in rapping?” Jisung asked once he disappeared. “That voice is killer. Maybe I should get his number later.”

“Focus.” Jeongin wiggled a bit in his seat, “Okay, second question. How do you feel about skinship?”

“I’m a big fan of skinship.” Chan! That was his name.

“I like skinship if I’m comfortable with the person.” Jisung noticed that both his friends were looking at Hyunjin with heart eyes. At this rate he was gonna end up with him just so they could get his number. Pouting, he sunk down into his seat and crossed his arms.

“It really depends.” That was the rapper boy again, “It’s all about my relationship with that person and how I see them. It’s definitely not something I’m into with people I barely know.”

“I like it sometimes.” Jisung wracked his brain and finally came up with a name. Woojin. The singer.

“I love skinship! Like I said before, cuddling is my favorite. Especially with someone cute and tiny. Like Jisungie.”

Jisung almost jumped out of his seat to defend himself, remembering at the last second that if he did the whole thing would be ruined. Instead he chose to whine, “What makes you think I’m small?”

Minho giggled prettily, “Your head doesn’t show above the chair.”

“Hmph,” Jisung was highly insulted. “This is just a big chair, I’m perfectly normal sized”

“If you say so.” There was a clear flirtaious lilt to Minho’s voice, “I’ll guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

“You’re all probably taller than Sungie, except for Changbin.” Ah, that was the rapper’s name. “Unfortunately we have to eliminate someone once again.” Seungmin leaned towards Jeongin and the two of them whispered back and forth for a bit, “This has nothing to do with your height, but Changbin, we’re sorry. Jisung is huge into skinship, in fact it’s probably killing him to be sitting there right now without touching anyone.”

The chosen boy stepped down, saluting Jisung as he left, “Maybe we could collab sometime. Give me a call.”

“Now, onto our third question.” Jeongin eyed the remaining contestants, “Would you consider yourself talented?”

“I like to dabble in a lot of different things, like music and art and dance. But I wouldn’t say I’m talented. I’m not awful, but I’m definitely not the best.” Chan’s tone was humble, “Except for swimming. I’m good at swimming.”

“I love to dance, but I’ve gotten to where I am today because of hard work. Not talent.” Jisung wasn’t even sure his friends were hearing Hyunjin’s answers, they were both too busy drooling over him.

“Want me to sing for you right now? I can prove I’m talented.”

“I danced with BTS, if that doesn’t tell you that I’m sexy and incredible, what will?” Minho’s voice turned sultry, “I’m very talented. I know exactly what I’m doing with my body. I’ll prove it to you later, Sungie.”

“Alright, let’s keep this rated PG,” Seungmin quickly jumped in to stop Minho. Jisung pressed his hands to his flaming cheeks and hoped his insane blush wasn’t being picked up on the camera. “Jisung has a bit of a superiority complex. He’s confident and talented, but he doesn’t like to date other people who are because he always wants to be the best. Which is total bullshit and Jeongin and I will not stand for that. So I’m sorry, Chan. We need someone who’s a bit more confident and willing to put this idiot in his place.”

Chan stepped down, flashing a peace sign and a dimpled smile as he disappeared.

“And then there were three.” Seungmin rubbed his hands together gleefully, “If you win the honor of taking our baby Jisung on a date, what would your plan be?”

“Dinner and a movie, I guess.” Jisung rolled his eyes at Hyunjin’s boring answer and the way his friends were lapping it up, “The movie first so we’d have something to talk about during dinner.”

“A fried chicken picnic at Han River.”

“I don’t know if baby Jisungie could handle it, but I’d take him to a club. We could dance up on each other in the darkness and I’d let him touch me anyway he wanted.”

Seungmin let out a delighted cackle, “You should see Jisung’s face right now. He’s so red. It’s incredible. You pass just for that.”

“I think we’re going to have to eliminate Woojin this time. I’m sorry,” Jeongin apologized. “Jisung hates fried chicken.”

Woojin gasped as he approached Jisung, hand clutching his heart, “How could you?”

Jisung rolled his eyes, “I don’t hate fried chicken. These two idiots just want to keep staring at Hyunjin.”

Woojin laughed, “Fair enough. He’s pretty hot.”

“Time for the final question. Drum roll please.” Jeongin made the noises as Seungmin continued speaking, “Why should we pick you?”

“Um,” Hyunjin hesitated. “I don’t know? I’m nice, I guess.”

“You should pick me because clearly Jisung is interested. He’s been reacting to my answers all day. And if what he just told Woojin is right, you two have only been hanging on to Hyunjin because you like him, not Sungie. Pick me, I’ll treat him right.”

“Fair point. Congrats, Minho. You’re the winner.”

Hyunjin exited the stage and Jisung saw him for the first time. He understood why his friends were so enamored, but the boy definitely wasn’t his type.

“Give Seungmin your number before you go or I’ll have to hear about it for the rest of my life,” Jisung offered Hyunjin a small smile, and the other boy returned it before sneaking a shy glance over his shoulder at Seungmin. Jisung’s friend grinned at him and a slight pink dusted Hyunjin’s cheeks as he hurried out.

“Sungie, put your blindfold back on. It’s time to meet your man.”

Jisung did as he was told, his hands trembling slightly as he slipped the material back over his eyes. He stood up, took a deep breath and straightened the edge of his shirt.

“Cute,” Minho’s giggling voice was close. Too close. A hand brushed his face and suddenly Jisung could see again, the blindfold lifted away.

He blinked once. Then twice. Then a third time.

“Holy shit, you’re beautiful,” he breathed before flushing red and clamping his hands over his mouth.

Minho just laughed and reached out to poke one of Jisung’s warm cheeks, “And you’re the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.”

Jisung batted his hand away and Minho caught his wrist, twining their fingers together loosely as he grinned at Jisung. Jisung couldn’t fight back his own smile and he gave Minho’s hand a gentle squeeze as they stared at each other.

“This ended shockingly well,” the camera director removed his headphones and nodded to the four boys in front of him. “Thank you all for your participation.”

Minho started to walk out, tugging on Jisung’s hand, “So can we start our first date now? Or is that too soon? Do you just want to exchange numbers and met up later? We can go to the club later. Or we don’t have to, if you don’t want to. We can watch a movie and cuddle. Your friends said you like skinship. I do too, so that’s great. Or we could go for a walk by the river. That could be fun. You could meet my cats. I have three. Or we could…” Minho trailed off to stare at Jisung, who was doubled over in hysterics, their fingers still tangled together. Minho pouted, “Why are you laughing at me?”

“You were so confident before! What happened?”

“Shut up,” Minho knocked Jisung’s hip with his own, smiling sheepishly at the other boy’s continued laughter. “It was easier to flirt with you when I couldn’t see you! Stop laughing, I’m sensitive.”

Jisung got his laughter under control, but lost it again when he looked up into Minho’s pouting face. This time, Minho joined in, giggling softly before breaking into full on belly laughs, one hand on his stomach and the other still holding tight to Jisung’s.

“Idiots,” Seungmin smiled at the two boys fondly. “It looks like Jisung has finally met his match.”

“We did great,” Jeongin agreed, high fiving his friend. “And you got Hyunjin’s number.”

“So,” Minho hooked his chin over Jisung’s shoulder, tightening his arms around the younger boy’s waist, “was it worth it?”

Jisung leaned back into his touch, ignoring the movie that played out on the screen in front of them. Him and Minho had decided on a horror movie marathon with extra cuddles as their first date and Jisung would never admit it to his friends, but they’d done great.

“Definitely worth it,” Jisung tilted his head back and offered the other boy a soft smile. “If I had met you in real life, I never would have gone for you. You’re too pretty. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but those idiots were right.”

“To be fair, you picked me out yourself as soon as you heard my voice. I think your friends would have chosen Hyunjin if you weren’t so obviously into me.”

“This is why you’re my new favorite,” Jisung settled more comfortably into Minho’s hold, tipping his head back to press a sloppy kiss to the curve of the older boy’s chin. “I do have fantastic taste. They were right about one thing though.” Jisung batted his eyelashes seductively at Minho, “I do have a superiority complex. So please worship me accordingly.”

#minsung #han jisung #lee know #this is based off that besties pick bae series that seventeen magazine does

155 notes · View notes

rockandrollstorytime · 5 years

Text

Rock and Roll Storytime #5: Brian Jones and His Five(?) Children

While I will absolutely admit to being infatuated with dead rock stars, that doesn’t mean I’m going to give them a pass for everything they’ve ever done. Take for example, Brian Jones. While I think he is quite cute and an extraordinarily talented musician, there’s the fact that he was also abusive towards women, and he was never really involved in the lives of any of the multiple children he sired.

Hell, he was so bad in regards to having responsible sex, we don’t even know how many children he had for sure.

What I’m going to do with this is tell you how his five confirmed children came into the world and maybe even talk about some of the speculated ones this time.

Confirmed:

1. Barry David Corbett (aka Simon): So, let’s face it, Brian started out young, being just seventeen when he got his then girlfriend, Valerie Corbett pregnant (sources vary as to whether she was fourteen or seventeen when this happened). What’s important to remember is that the adults of Brian’s generation heavily disapproved of teenage pregnancy (some of it owing to how we used to be a lot more religious), and if Call the Midwife is anything to go by (great show by the way), it was usually the parents who would determine whether a teenage mother was able to keep her unborn child. Most often, it seems, the child would be given up for adoption, though it seems that sometimes, a shotgun wedding would be initiated, and in rarer cases, the grandparents would bring the child up under the impression that the mother was actually an older sister, whilst they posed as the biological parents (think Jack Nicholson). Reportedly, Brian encouraged Valerie to get an abortion, which, mind you was illegal at the time, but she refused. She gave birth to little Barry on May 29, 1960, and he was subsequently adopted out and renamed Simon. Reportedly, he eventually found out that Brian was his father in 2004, and by then, he was married with two kids of his own.

2. Unknown (Known as Belinda or Carol depending on the source): within months of getting Valerie pregnant, Brian was at it again. In this instance, he met a woman only known as Angelique at a dance and the two had a one-night-stand. As it turns out, the 23-year-old was married and had been going through a rough patch with her husband. When she turned up pregnant, she and her husband ultimately decided to keep the baby, and on August 4, 1960, Brian’s only known daughter was born. According to Bill Wyman, Brian never knew about his eldest daughter’s birth, and in a similar vein, the subject of Brian Jones was taboo in Belinda’s household, given the pain it caused both her parents (which is also the reason we don’t know her real name). Bill’s book Stone Alone, states that she realized that her father wasn’t her biological father when she was six, and that she realized Brian was her father when she was fifteen after her brother brought home a Rolling Stones record (Through the Past Darkly, Big Hits Vol. 2). In talking to Belinda, Bill also discovered that she had temporal lobe epilepsy, which to the pair of them, explained Brian’s hypochondriac tendencies, as well as some of his behaviors (for instance, Bill said that in about a minute, Brian would go from being fully engaged in a conversation to being completely disengaged). While the truth of the matter is, we’ll never know for sure whether or not Brian had epilepsy (because we knew jackshit about mental health back in the day), I personally think it’s an interesting explanation for Brian’s health problems, and that theory might even shine a light on what might have happened the night he drowned.

3. Julian Mark Andrews: Surely, Brian was living the “Sex, drugs, and rock and roll” lifestyle well before he became a rock star. After returning to Cheltenham after the scandal that was him getting Valerie pregnant, Brian began dating 15-year-old Pat Andrews. When she was sixteen, she fell pregnant with his child, and by her own admission, she was so naive about childbirth that she didn’t even realize she was pregnant until her sister marched her into the doctor’s office. On October 22, 1961, she gave birth to Julian Mark, named after Julian “Cannonball” Adderley. By all accounts, on the day Mark was born, Brian sold four of his records (his most prized possessions) in order to buy flowers for Pat and clothes for his newborn son. He was even involved in their lives for a while, but sadly, this arrangement wouldn’t last. For one thing, Brian was very promiscuous, and he was never good at the whole “fidelity” thing. Another possible explanation is that one time, when Pat and Mark came to spend a day with Brian after he became famous, his manager, Andrew Loog Oldham, started bitching about how Brian shouldn’t be seen as a “family man” (even though Bill Wyman was married and had a young son). Apparently, Andrew wanted to market Brian as a hot young bachelor that the fangirls would have no qualms squeeing over. In either case, Brian soon cut all ties with Pat. In addition, according to Paul Trynka, Mick Jagger once made a drunken pass at Pat (she rejected his advances), and Mick apparently bragged to Brian that they’d had a drunken fling. According to Pat, Brian never gave her a chance to explain her side of the story, and that was around the time Brian cut all ties. In 1966, she sued Brian for child support, and when Brian failed to show up to court, the very pissed-off judge awarded Pat the maximum sum allowed at the time: £2.50 a week for Mark as well as another £78 to cover Pat’s court costs and confinement expenses. After Brian’s death though, the payments stopped coming in. On a side-note: Laura Jackson’s book states that Mark has no memories of his father.

youtube

4. Julian Brian Lawrence Leitch: Before anyone says anything, yes Brian has two sons named Julian, and allegedly, he wanted all of his sons to be named after Cannonball Adderley. In 1964, Brian had been dating a 17-year-old Linda Lawrence for two years. She subsequently gave birth to his third son on July 23, 1964. Reportedly, he was involved for a brief while whilst he lived with Linda and her parents, but then he was kicked out after it became clear that he had no intentions of marrying Linda. She came forward against Brian with a paternity suit in 1965, and ultimately, she received a £1,000 settlement. In October 1970, she married Brian’s friend and fellow musician Donovan Leitch (simply known as Donovan in most parts) who later taught Julian to play guitar. For the curious, there are clips of him online singing “Sympathy for the Devil,” and he later became the father of Joolz Leitch Jones, who like his father, grandfather, and step-grandfather, is a musician.

5. Paul Molloy (John Maynard): This one is an utter doozy even when you take into account the usual low standards surrounding any given rock star and his/her children. This story starts with Brian dating 19-year-old Dawn Molloy on and off again throughout 1964 (while he was still seeing Linda, mind you), and her eventually becoming pregnant. At around this time, Brian was ordered by Andrew to never contact her again. Subsequently, Andrew, in a case of severely misguided damage control, essentially coerced Dawn into signing a non-disclosure agreement, which stated that the matter was now closed and she would never go to the public or press about the child being Brian’s (the whole thing was witnessed by Mick Jagger). In exchange for her silence, she would be awarded £700. Her parents were not supportive of her during her pregnancy, and she was sent to a home for unmarried, expectant mothers, where, on March 24, 1965, she gave birth to Paul. Soon after, she was forced to give up her son for adoption, and told that she would never be able to see him again (those of you who’ve seen the film Philomena or Call the Midwife will probably get an idea of what I’ve been describing). Paul was renamed John, and while he did know that he was adopted, he did, at least, know he was loved. Some thirty years later, John, having married and had three kids of his own, went looking for his birth family, and was eventually able to find his birth mother and information about his late birth father. Mother and son have both spoken about their experiences since; Dawn wrote a book entitled Not Fade Away, and John spoke to the Daily Mail, where he said of Brian, “First, I'd probably hit him for what he did to Dawn. Then I'd brush him down and ask him if he wanted a coffee. I'd like to chat with him. To get to know him and for him to get to know me. He'd like me, I know he would. I'd want him to be proud of me. To be honest, I'd just want him to be my dad.”

Unconfirmed/Rumored:

-Marlon Richards: For a while, people suspected that Marlon was actually Brian’s son for a while because when he was little, he was blond and had a cherubic face, though I could argue that this came more from his mother, Anita Pallenberg. Even if I could already dispute the idea that Marlon is Brian’s son, given how Brian and Anita’s relationship came to a legendarily messy finish in 1967, there’s also the fact that Marlon grew up to look exactly like Keith. Still, figured I might as well debunk this old rumor.

-Timmy Faithless: This one comes straight from Australian tabloids in which it is claimed his mother, Loriann (the article will make sure you remember she was a Satanist, which doesn’t matter to me, but whatever), conceived after a Melbourne concert. As with anything in the tabloids though, I tend to doubt the veracity of such claims (it might help if we had Brian’s DNA on file, but last I checked, police don’t really have a good reason to dig up Brian’s skeleton).

-Anna Wohlin claimed to have been carrying Brian’s child, but miscarried shortly after his death, likely due to the high stress and duress caused by the situation. However, I personally think she’s a bit of an unreliable witness, so I’ll just leave that to conjecture.

-Barbara Wolf: In 2019, she came out of the woodworks to allege that Brian was her father and that he was murdered by Frank Thorogood (she is not the only one of Brian’s children to believe he was murdered). Once again though, considering this story seems to have originated in a tabloid, I’ll just sit over here being my highly skeptical self.

-David Lars “Cannonball” Brandstone: Claimed to be writing a book about his dad set for release in 2008. Once again though, I find myself sorely doubting his claims about Brian (some of the details he gives in his interview are a bit... suspect to say the least).

If there’s anything to be taken away from what you just read, it’s that sometimes, people are going to be irresponsible as hell when it comes to... relations. As someone who has experienced something similar to what Brian’s children went through (teenage mother, absent father), I can certainly say that, while I respect Brian’s musical ability, I simply cannot condone his behavior in any of these cases. I know that it was a different time, but still, the fact that he got so many women pregnant and subsequently abandoned them is simply inexcusable.

Thank god for contraception and better sex ed.

Sources: Brian Jones: The Making of the Rolling Stones by Paul Trynka Brian Jones: The Untold Life and Mysterious Death of a Legend by Laura Jackson 27: A History of the 27 Club through the Lives of Brian Jones, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain, and Amy Winehouse by Howard Sounes Stone Alone by Bill Wyman https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1353783/Being-Brian-Joness-son-greatest-thing-happened-me.html http://www.angelfire.com/rock3/sixtiesfish/kidsweb/kids.html https://iorr.org/talk/read.php?1,2325726,2325735 http://www.angelfire.com/rock3/sixtiesfish/brianjones_son.html https://ultimateclassicrock.com/the-rolling-stones-children/ https://www.earcandymag.com/foundationstonebook-2.htm https://www.mirror.co.uk/3am/celebrity-news/daughter-rolling-stones-wild-child-17479033 https://born-late.blogspot.com/2011/09/legend-of-girl-child-linda.html https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brian_Jones#Early_life_and_children https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j8OANZg8_iE

#brian jones #the rolling stones #rock and roll #storytime #brian i love you but come on #that's just plain irresponsible

10 notes · View notes

ashleycusick · 4 years

Text

On: Freedom

I have always been preoccupied with freedom. Even when I was a child, I hated the constraints of a school. I used to play pretend in my bedroom that I was in middle school, where I would have a locker to call my own. When I was in high school, I felt that I would feel more free if I could just get to university where I could choose my own schedule and make my own way, so I graduated early. After the newness of university wore off, I felt that if I could just graduate and go traveling, I would be free. If I could just see the world, experience new things, not have a plan for a while, that would be the peak of freedom.

The irony is that when I first moved to France, I found myself virtually stranded on a farm in Normandy, with very little actual freedom to move about my life. And, inevitably, I was still me. So, I was still trapped in the same cage of my habits (namely, romantic habits) that I grew up in.

That’s not to say that each new experience didn’t bring me a new kind of freedom, because it did. France shifted my definition of freedom. England shifted my definition of freedom. I began writing this before virtually the whole world went in to quarantine because of COVID-19, but now that is hugely shifting my (and everyone else around the globe’s) definition of freedom too.

Entering into a serious relationship for the first time in my life at the age of 22 brought me some freedoms as well. It gave me the freedom to actually learn to love myself. It gave me a safe place to explore who I was. It gave me space to accept myself. But, in the end, I didn’t feel I had the freedom to be an individual. And, at 24 years old, living 8000 miles from my home, the pull to that particular freedom was too strong to ignore.

As I turned 25, the most important thing to me was being free. So, I’ve spent the last year of my life actively avoiding romantic partnerships. My definition of freedom didn’t include caring enough about someone to hurt when they weren’t there. Connecting is in my nature, but I found it easier to seek connections that couldn’t last and wouldn’t hurt when they faded. Even my ties to a city, to friends, to an apartment, to a home had to be kept shallow.

I turned 26 four days ago, and I’ve begun to slip. I’ve begun to have feelings for this place. For these people. I’ve dated many a boy casually this past year. But, recently I was lying next to one, and we were discussing the formality (or lack thereof) of our relationship. At the time, I was sure I didn’t want anything serious. He said to me, “Because you want your freedom.” And, yeah, I was terrified of losing myself.

The shift was quick. But, suddenly, I’m realizing that fighting my feelings is a cage I’ve put myself in. Being dishonest with myself about those feelings is a prison of my own making. I guess what I’m saying is, it’s okay for your definition of freedom to change along the way. It’s okay if your path to freedom isn’t linear. It’s okay if it doesn’t look the same as the person next you’s path.

Let’s go back to when I moved to Europe after I graduated university: In France, I found a kind of love even in the harsh Norman winter with a boy in a jumper with a buck’s head on it. It would cause me the biggest heartbreak I’ve ever known three months later. Two days before my 21st birthday, I went to a pub and drank Guinness and kissed a boy I barely knew (for the first time in 7 years), and I never saw him again. Later that year, I would fall for a teacher with floppy blonde hair who would leave me waiting on the train platform for him in Liverpool’s rain.

While that time certainly had things that threatened to cage me in, it was one of the last years that my heart was truly open to being broken. And, having the courage to jump in to things that might hurt, that might envelop me, that might make me feel alive did indeed offer me the freedom I was after.

For a long while, I’ve been operating with a definition of freedom that included not feeling negative emotions and not giving anyone the power to alter my life. I’d been telling myself that admitting to myself, or anyone else, that someone else could hurt me was a weakness. And, that way of life worked for me, for a while.

But, now, I’m learning that there is perhaps freedom in the letting in. There is freedom in asking people to care for you when you need them to. There is freedom in being sad that you had to let go of something worth having. I am learning that showing up to your feelings – good, bad, ugly – might not be a weakness, as I once thought. It might even be a strength.

For this we can be grateful:

You used to want to crack your ribs so your torso would lie flat //

That hole in the pit of your stomach used to threaten to swallow you entirely //

But now it feels like a fire rising in your throat //

Threatening to spew out of you //

Now you expand your ribs as you remind yourself to breathe deep //

Surely something good must come of all this //

Surely it is better to go down in flames than sink to the bottom of the ocean.

x Ash

2 notes · View notes

thewritewolf · 5 years

Text

Inseparable Chapter 10: Disguises

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

@ladynoirjuly2019

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Adrien opened the package that had arrived for him, letting out a sigh of relief when he saw the clothes he had ordered. The online store had cut it about as close as possible; if this outfit hadn’t arrived today, he’d have to meet Ladybug in something from his usual wardrobe. While the Agreste line is (generally) good, it is not inconspicuous.

“Hey, kid. You still freaking out about this date or what?” Adrien looked up to where Plagg was sitting on the upper level of his bedroom, gnawing at his camembert in what was a leisurely pace for the kwami.

“It’s not a date, Plagg.” Although he wished it was. “We’re just spending some time together outside of our superhero duties. That’s all.”

“Yeah?” His voice got closer as he flew over to Adrien. “Looks like a lot of fussing and fidgeting for something that’s ‘just spending time together’, kid.” He shoved the remainder of his cheese wedge in his mouth. “If you want my advice-”

“I really don’t.”

“-then I’d say you should just relax. It’s not like Ladybug can think of you as any bigger a dork.”

“Thanks, Plagg,” Adrien drily commented. “But I need this to go well if she’ll ever agree to do it again. This might be my one chance to just have a relaxing day with her - no patrols, no superheroics, no villains. Just me and her, eating ice cream and talking.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’ll be fine, kid.” When Adrien continued to pace and wring his hands, Plagg flew in front of him. “Hey. Listen to me: You don’t need to worry. You and Ladybug are already friends - you’re closer than you think you are.” Plagg smirked, as if there was a joke only he knew about. “Now just calm down. It’s still a few hours before your date or whatever you want to call it.

Taking deep breaths, Adrien reigned himself in. “You’re right. I bet Ladybug isn’t freaking out like I am.”

“That’s the spirit, kid. Now onto more important matters - like my camembert.”

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

“Tikki!” Marinette whined. “What am going to wear when I meet up with Chat?”

Traditionally, Marinette could send pictures to Alya and get feedback about her outfit, but how would she explain what it was for this time? She didn’t want to lie to her best friend any more than she had to, and this definitely didn’t fall into the necessary category. But that still left her without any moral support from her friends. Support which she was surprised she needed. And why did she?! It was Chat Noir! The person she trusted more than anyone, her best friend besides Alya! Why should she be so nervous for something so casual?

Tikki finally appeared in front of the mountain of clothing, tiny forehead creased in concentration. “You don’t intend to wear all of this… do you?”

The idea was almost appealing, if it at least meant she could decide on something. But no matter how chilly the autumn evenings were getting, arriving in seventeen layers, including four scarves and three hats, would be out of place.

“I’m just teasing, Marinette. Let’s make a few outfits out of this and see which one we like best, okay? We’ll take it one step at a time.” With Tikki patiently helping Marinette decide on what she wanted, they ended up with three complete outfits. “Okay, now - which of these speaks the most to you?”

Marinette ran her eyes over all of them, but it was the middle one that she kept turning back to. She placed a hand on the black fabric of the hoodie - she remembered fruitlessly searching for a good Chat Noir themed hoodie months ago, but none of them really did her partner justice. So she’d bought a black hoodie and made her own, with the cat ears sewn on the hood, and the word, ‘Meowvelous’ embroidered onto the chest. It made her smile to look at, since she knew how much he would love to see it.

The rest of the outfit was just as good, even if she didn’t have a hand in making it - a long skirt, a baseball cap, and the Chat Noir sunglasses. The lime green scarf she did make, a sister piece to the one she had given Adrien.

“Looks like we have a winner,” Tikki said from beside her.

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

“You look radiate as usual, my lady.”

Marinette turned around to see Chat Noir standing at the other end of their meeting place, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Great minds think alike, chaton.”

Just like how Marinette was wearing a Chat Noir-themed outfit, Chat Noir was wearing a Ladybug-themed outfit. The red hoodie with spots was a given, but the little antennae on the hood were just adorable. Combined with baggy jeans - which she noted was held up by his leather tail - and a red beanie concealing his ears, he looked exactly like what Chat Noir would be like outside the mask. Just a relaxed, sweet boy.

Just as she had that thought, he pulled out a pair of sunglasses adored with cartoon ladybugs and waggled his eyebrows.

“Yes, very cute, Chat.” She tapped his chest where his bell would be, satisfied at the muffled ring. “Where are we going?”

“I know this amazing little ice cream shop - and no, it’s not Andre’s. No magic except good ice cream with this place.”

“Mmm, the best kind of magic. Lead on.”

They landed in an alley not far from the shop and blended into the crowd. Although Marinette was constantly worried that someone would see right through their disguises, the ruse was working so far. Sure, they could have gone without their suits, but then there was the chance they’d have preemptively revealed themselves. The only risk here was causing a scene or having to sign autographs.

The bell over the door rang as they entered the shop and the first thing Marinette noticed was how few people were here. Besides the shopkeeper, there were a handful of customers spread across the store, leaving plenty of tables and booths open. Despite the emptiness of the room, there was an umbrella rack with a single old umbrella by the door. While Chat Noir was busy scanning the menu, Marinette stepped forward, already certain of what she wanted.

“Strawberry, please.”

Bowl in hand, she paid and found a booth to sit down at. Not long after, Chat Noir had dived into the bench opposite her and practically thrust his bowl under her nose.

“Look! They put chocolate chips in the MINT ICE CREAM!" He grinned with excitement.

She raised an eyebrow at him, even as she fought down a smile. "I see. You're one of those people."

“What?” He said defensively. “I don’t get to enjoy ice cream a lot, so I like to experiment when I get the chance.”

“If you say so.” She took a bite of her delicious strawberry ice cream. “Meanwhile, I’ve got it figured out. I’ve already found the best there is.”

Chat Noir chuckled as he ate. “Whatever you say.”

A few minutes of quiet descended on them as they became absorbed with the ice cream. No wonder Chat had been so insistent upon coming here - it was some of the best she’d had. The silence didn’t last forever, and soon enough they were back into bantering, dancing around any serious topic of conversation. A pun of his landed just right, and she shook her head.

“You’re ridiculous, Chat.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” he said proudly. “Until we’re old and grey.”

She poked at her ice cream, frowning. “Do you think we’ll be at this for that long?”

“I… honestly don’t know. I guess I never really thought about it.”

“We’re no closer to beating him now than we were a year ago. And what happens when he’s gone? Will that be it, or will someone - heck, something - just pop up to replace him?”

Nodding sagely, Chat replied, “Superheroes invite a challenge, naturally creating more supervillains.”

“That would sound more profound if I didn’t know you took it from either the Avengers or the Incredibles.”

“Ooo, my lady! I didn’t know you were such a movie fan. How do you feel about…” he leaned forward and waggled his eyebrows, “...Romance?”

She pushed him away by his nose. “Not a big fan. I mostly like Disney and Pixar. I play them in the background while I… work.” Design work, specifically, but Chat already got his hint for the night. It wouldn’t be good to make it too easy for him.

They launch into a new conversation about movie preferences and quickly discover that they can add that to the list of things they have in common. Excluding Chat Noir’s love of romantic comedies.

“Then maybe the next time we hang out, we could make it a movie night?” Chat poked at his half melted ice cream while he said it, furtively glancing up at her. The implication was clear - if they had a next time.

While she thought about it, she noticed that two men had entered the store. They were hovering near the counter, the bulk of their bodies concealing what was happening from view. All she could see was the shopkeeper, looking very pale and eyes fixed on something that Marinette couldn’t see. Chat Noir followed where she was looking and his bashfulness faded away, replaced by a cold glare.

“After you, my lady.”

#Miraculous Ladybug #Ladybug #Chat Noir #Adrien Agreste #Plagg #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Tikki #Ladynoir #LadynoirJuly2019 #ml fanfiction #my writing #Inseparable

36 notes · View notes

blankdblank · 5 years

Text

Anaticula Pt 49

- Borrowed a quote from Tolkien for 2nd Prophecy -

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10 - Pt 11 - Pt 12 - Pt 13 - Pt 14 - Pt 15 - Pt 16 - Pt 17 - Pt 18 - Pt 19 - Pt 20 - Pt 21 - Pt 21b - Pt 22 - Pt 23 - Pt 24 - Pt 25 - Pt 26 - Pt 27 - Pt 28 - Pt 29 - Pt 30 - Pt 31 - Pt 33 - Pt 34 - Pt 35 - Pt 36 - Pt 37 - Pt 38 - Pt 39 - Pt 40 - Pt 41 - Pt 42 - Pt 43 - Pt 44 - Pt 45 - Pt 46 - Pt 47 -

Raised safely in Neville’s arms you were aparated home again straight to your room where across a towel you were laid for Remus and your father to inspect the wounds on your middle as Regulus inspected your slowly bleeding burn scars after laying Harry beside you. In a hurry the others rushed off for supplies and snacks for you and Harry as Percy rushed in to your side, “Jaqi! Harry!”

Slowly your eyes cracked open and you flashed him a weak grin, “Hey Perce.”

Carefully he brushed your hair from your face eying your still bleeding scar, “What happened?”

In a weak chuckle you said, “I slapped him.”

Percy looked up at the others and Ron by Harry’s side chuckled saying, “She slapped Riddle across the face.”

Percy looked down at you, “You’re alive…”

You giggled again then winced at your father dripping more Phoenix tears onto your bleeding burns healing them one at a time, “Sorry Pumpkin, few more.”

Remus caught Percy’s eye saying, “We’ll show you the memory later.”

Regulus, “It was remarkable. One on one with him. Never seen anyone match him like that before.”

Turning your head you caught Dumbledore’s eye saying, “Professor.” Moving closer to your side his hand folded around yours.

“Yes child?”

“I’m sorry, about using your wand.”

He shook his head and patted your hand, “No, no, no. Don’t you concern yourself about that. It was a spectacle in the most wondrous of ways. I see you’ve been able to study my dueling memories somehow?”

A smirk eased across his lips and you replied, “The wand showed me how you moved. Let me see a few counter curses, really old ones.”

Deepening his smirk, “A good thing about an old wand, old memories. And very loyal friends. If you know how to listen that is. I would have no other wielding it.”

Regulus dabbed your cheek again asking, “Does your scar hurt?”

“It’s sort of burning, not as bad as before, but not when you touch it.”

Remus, “Do you still feel the link?”

Lowering your gaze you closed your eyes then nodded when they opened again. “It’s there, it’s weaker, but it’s there.”

Dumbledore’s head cocked to the side, “Weaker?”

You nodded, “I could feel it, withering, no, not withering, but, when our minds linked and I pushed him back, part of it seemed to go back with him.”

Dumbledore nodded and is eyes scanned over the floor releasing your hand to stand and start pacing, your father said, “Perhaps it might be too hard for him to control how much of himself he takes back after severing off so many pieces.”

Remus, “I can’t imagine it is easy to measure out your soul.”

Ron looked between you, “What’s this about souls?”

Looking at Ron you said, “There’s a way that Riddle found in a way to make himself immortal,” in a roll onto your side allowing them to start healing your back you winced then continued as Regulus kept your stained hair out of your face he was still tenderly cleaning, “Horcruxes. Pieces of a soul kept in an object or living being.”

Ron, “How would you even make pieces of a soul?”

Sirius, “You have to kill someone.”

Ron, “So you’re saying, you said, your scar. You’re a horcrux?”

You nodded, “I was before too, before I went to Azkaban, but the Dementors ate the first one.”

Ron nodded, “And now he’s back, and you are one again.” his eyes dropped to his lap then rose again after wetting his lips, “Then all we need is a Dementor again. Maybe you can call one of those foxes, the one that brings them so you don’t have to link minds with him again.”

Your head tilted, “Only thing, Novem seems to be off exploring with his friend, left Newt’s some time ago even the dragon and birds are lost to where they went to.”

Ron, “We’ll find a way to get one. Any others?”

You shook your head, “Other than a snake he hasn’t got anymore, we found the rest, he just doesn’t know that yet.”

Tilting your head more your eyes closed at the closer to your nose Regulus got while Harry stirred and sat up with Ron’s help, “Hey there Harry. You all right?”

His head tilted to the side, “Not the worst I’ve been.” Before long he left with Ron and the twins to all get some food as Percy took Dumbledore to answer a call to the Ministry.

Alone in the room a soft sniffle from you stopped Sirius and Regulus. Over his legs your father crawled at your hand covering your eyes to lay out and hold you against his chest. Tightly in his arms you sobbed through his low assurances he wouldn’t go into any traps or battles without a double again, and when you calmed you shifted back onto your side letting them finish healing your back as you summoned a fresh shirt from your closet to change into. Tossing your bloodied shirt away you asked, “Did you hear anything? At the arch?”

Regulus, “Heard your Mum,” you all looked at him, “Telling me to keep you away from it.”

Sirius, “Did you hear her?”

“No, I don’t know who I heard. It said, ‘I am here. Not yet. Balance the scales. Trust. Hope. Love.’ What’s it supposed to mean? I don’t even know who said it.”

Remus, “Balance the scales, clearly it has to do with the war.”

Regulus, “What about that Prophecy?”

Sirius looked you over, “Prophecy?”

“Right.” Leaning back you reached into your pocket pulling out your enchanted pouch from which you pulled out hearing its soft whisper.

‘Child of four pillars blessed by Dragons old, no kindness may yet find you yet your heart will never cold. A shield for all forgotten, Monster to Man’s eyes. In place of the Dark Lord they will set up a Queen.

And you shall not be dark, but beautiful and terrible as the Morning and the Night. Fair as the Sea and the Sun and the Snow upon the Mountain! Dreadful as the Storm and the Lightning. Stronger than the foundations of the earth. All shall love you and despair.

Fires and turmoil shall pave your road to return upon my call. Always watched and guarded, blessed be your reign. Queen of scales balanced wrongs righted and glorious tales. Of all those sent wandering our light inside you grows. Soon you’ll be returning to paths you shall not know. Hold fast as darkness finds you, near light it ever grows. The path goes ever onward, when I call you, you will know.’

Teary eyed you looked at the trio in various stages of rubbing their faces while you floated the orb to your dresser to sit on a stand you made for it. Sniffling softly you said, “Well that certainly wasn’t cheerful at all. Is it mandatory for all prophecies to be death sentences? No kindness may yet find you, very hope inducing.”

Remus, “Someone’s calling you. New ally maybe in the war.”

Regulus, “One of your blondes, or their friends you keep dreaming of?”

You shrugged, “Who knows. Closest I’ve come to a date is something about my birthday, and apparently there’s a morpher baby in my future.”

Your father’s lips parted and you called your dream journal over showing the sketch of you having tea with the blondes and a group of their friends in some garden courtyard they all looked over. Wetting his lips your father asked, “Any clue on a name?”

“In the snippet I called him Teddy.”

Remus, “I always wanted a son named Teddy.”

“Maybe he’s yours and I’m babysitting? I’ve had other dreams where you’re with the dark haired guy in this one. He looks, maybe at least a year, so nine months to have him, another year to get that old, two, three years till we meet them? Just long enough for the world to go to hell.”

Regulus tapped your arm in the image, “Your mark. It’s showing, meaning Riddle’s dead. That’s a good sign at least, even if none of them are smiling.”

Remus looked you over saying, “I’ll get you some soup.”

Leaning back against your pillows you grinned at your father in his move to snuggle up against you nestling you in his arms to flip through your dream journal inspecting each sketch. The one with Sebastian on the Daily Prophet however stopping him at the smudges from your tear drops as it read he was engaged and expecting with one of the Bulgarian Team’s Veela cheer squad. Softly he mumbled reading the date as set for this July, “Oh Pumpkin…” Leaning in he kissed the top of your head folding his arm tighter around your back, “We’ll find your soulmate. We’ll find them.” Kissing you again.

By the hours end the teens were back at school and you were down in the sitting room with the twins, your father and uncles while over the radio hearing that you, Dumbledore and Harry were publicly apologized to for all the slander Fudge sent out about you and your family. Of course the larger story being that he had resigned and Umbridge was being suspended and removed from Hogwarts to St Mungos after having been freed from the herd of Centaurs by Dumbledore, who was being returned to his rightful place as Headmaster.

By nightfall Trelawney and Hagrid had been welcomed back into their old positions while you, Fred and George eyed your letters clearing you of all restrictions and lifetime restrictions Umbridge had given you with a full welcome to return for your final weeks of the first term and the rest of the second until you graduate in June. Staring at the letter over dinner George was the first to speak, “Well, if we do go back now we’ll be in time for the Ravenclaw match.”

A grin split across your face, “True.”

Fred, “Plus, you could actually get to put that Head Girl title of yours to good use.”

At the doors Sirius entered the sitting room with your trunks stacked in the doorway alongside your owls eager to be back to use with Tulip peeking inside, “If you hurry you can make it to supper.”

On your feet you all walked over to the trio hugging them tightly then pulled back. Looking over your father’s face he smiled at you cupping your face, “Enjoy your last term. I love you Pumpkin.”

Stealing another hug you mumbled back, “I love you Dad.”

Fred and George closed in around him too making him laugh, “We love you too!”

“I love you too boys.”

Strolling around them you called your door and levitated your things back to their places in your dorm, inside which Cedric popped up from his desk and just about tackled you all in a tight hug onto the benches, “You’re back!” He pulled back then said, “I mean, we knew Dumbledore would bring you back, but, you’re back!” he looked you over taking in the bruises around your neck and knuckles before stealing a glance at your darkened scar, “You ok? We saw the picture, Ron and them made copies for the paper. He was strangling you, and that slap!” Your brow inched up at his hands gripping your shoulders, “You slapped, him, across the face. And lived!!” At your awkward giggle he paused then asked, “What’d it feel like?”

Your head tilted to the side, “I mean, I was sort of in an adrenaline rush from dueling my aunt, but, stung a bit.”

He laughed, “It was a hell of a slap.”

Your heads turned to the door that crept open with gasps rippling on the other side before you were pulled through to the common room with echoes of ‘you’re back!’ rippling around the room. All until dinner they asked for a full recap of what had happened, in which you conveniently forgot a few names, same as Harry forgetting Lucius after having his sticky spot explained more in detail by Barty and Snape upon their questioning him for his status and especially yours.

Slytherins were first to spot you rippling echoes of their gasps and growing questions for you until finally the main hall opened up and everyone seemed to stop and turn to greet you three personally welcoming you back again. Steadily they trickled into the Great Hall after doing so and the rest having missed it fell silent when you entered, the giddy squeak from Minerva sounded and shifting into her cat form she hurried under the table between you and down the steps shifting back a few feet away widening your grin as she said, “There you are!” Hugging you three as tightly as she could manage then pulled back looking you all over. A gentle shift of your bangs showed the still darkened scars, “Does it hurt?”

“Only when I let my mind think about it. It’ll pass.”

She cupped your good cheek, “Oh,” shaking her head, “You slapped, him-,” shaking her head again, “Oh.”

Behind her Barty strolled up smirking alongside Snape, the former who looked to the twins, “Marvelous combusting buffer charms, Neville showed us the pictures from the scuffle,” he shook his head exhaling in a short puff, “Wow.” He looked to you, “And you, simply marvelous.”

Claiming a hug of his own while Snape stated, “I possibly cannot fathom which of your parents you could have inherited that idea from. To slap the darkest Wizard of our age.” Students readied to jump to your defense until he said, “True no other bloodline could muster the sheer audacity and effort to do so, and quite justly too. None deserves such a bold action as you, or could have managed to live through it, I am surprised you returned tonight I imagined there would be a celebration of some sort from your father at least. He is well?”

You nodded with a teary gaze he answered with a tight hug of his own, “12 parts foolish and four parts bravery, what your mother always said,” you pulled back nodding as he added, “Solves any problem and the key to her success. Of course quadruple the foolish and you have your father’s. For now, eat up. Exam tomorrow.” Making you three chuckle and nod moving to take your seats at the table catching the smiles and grins from the rest of the DA and your family in doing so, once there Dumbledore stood tearing Harry’s eyes from you in your battered state.

“As it is clearly obvious our Triplets have been fully cleared of any punishments and expulsions that were so wrongfully bestowed, further on that, any wrongful punishments in the past term will be expunged from all records and we will start afresh. Again I will be taking over Umbridge’s courses, for those sixth and seventh years willing to return to it after your strike. Further more, on punishments, all bans and restrictions for all clubs, including Quidditch teams are lifted, our usual Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff match will be on schedule if the weather allows. As for the Prefects, each and every one of you are being reinstated to your positions if you care to accept them back again, kindly stand,”

Around the hall all the Prefects stood accepting the badges floating to them they gladly pinned onto their robes again through the sea of cheers. While you and Topper waited a moment then joined them as he said, “And of course our Head Boy and Girl. The pair of you have continued to show the qualities instilling our faith in you that our student body will be led in the proper path we should tread. If you would please stand at your acceptance.”

Two pins floated back to you both that you added to your robes then looked up at him again when the second round of cheers died down, “These truly are troubling times, but in these times each and every one of you has given me hope. Hope that we can overcome anything, by banding together. You defended this school, you all saw a tyrant and when the Ministry refused to act you did, blocking all you could without resorting to violence. We will need that, loyalty, trust, love of one another on a human level to bind together for a peaceful future. Tomorrow classes start up as usual, you can be students again, but kindly, do not forget what you have done and what you can do to change the world. All it takes is one no, wavering or firm, one no and others will stand with you against tyranny and cruelty. Please take your seats, and let us feast with a toast to a brighter future, shaped by each and every one of you.”

…

Breakfast brought with it the papers. All showing copies of the pictures filling the issue with most focusing on your slap used for a story apologizing to you for everything from blaming your family for the escape of the Death Eaters. Up to them finally admitting your supposed ‘boggart induced accident’ in the Triwizard Tournament was indeed from a Death Eater so far from imagined up with proof Riddle was indeed back. Somehow though in the whirlwind downfall Fudge was in it left you all wondering who was following the buffoon up to bat and what they would unleash upon the Wizarding World.

Yet all the same as soon as breakfast ended you were up and on your way off to Herbology a nice and simple jump back into class for you three to melt back into it. Through the aid of numbing creams for your bruised knuckles you added your gloves brought from your assigned cubby complete with set of tools to return to tending to your assigned plants other Puffs had been taking turns tending to and collecting from.

Gathering all the collections Professor Sprout grinned at you all and brought out your next subject, a giant molting pineapple looking bulb needed to be cleared off and properly tended to, a task taking you all to handle it properly in the allotted time before it would bloom with either a waft of citrus or rotting garbage. Thankfully it was the former and once it did you all collected the seeds from its slime filled center you couldn’t but help to gag in collecting your share.

Magical Creatures came next with your aiding a band of Acromantulas to collect some of their venom and help clear a few minimal sores after having encountered a magical weed they had a bad reaction to.

Double Potions came next, eased onto your desk was a small cylinder of cream from Professor Snape for your bruised neck and hands. Generously you applied it and used an enchanted quill to take notes in his explanation of the potion you would be brewing through the week, each day adding a new supply of ingredients or sifting and straining in various stages using the shivering cauldrons you had been instructed to purchase for this year followed by an exam to fill the rest of the time.

Double Charms was followed by RoR then lunch. While Cedric hurried off for a Puff Paper meeting you headed down to the Chamber in which Tulip had been settled again and you, Fred and George started up on the next batch of products for your shop that Oliver had been handling the day to day minimal orders while the majority of all your orders were being handled by mail. The few days it sat open Oliver would be in charge with the rest of the week free built around his team practices and games he would have to travel for.

A pattern he hoped you all would be joining him on once you graduated. Hopefully joining him on the Kestrals Team, who had been readying to lose their best four players. Full invitations to warm up with them through August were offered and enthusiastically accepted by you all, especially Cedric who was also taking an internship with the Quibbler over the summer. Plans were being made and as painful as it all seemed to leave school you were eagerly hoping that it could lead to new beginnings that once this war had been ended you could fully enjoy the freedom of it.

Again out of habit your hand rose to fidget with the chain on the necklace from Sebastian you had long since removed from over the summer after the dream you had about him clearly moving on. Simply rubbing the back of your neck you sighed and stared at the letter you were drafting to your aunt Petunia about inviting them to Christmas to share what was coming, a suggestion your father and uncles agreed to, especially as the spell protecting them and Harry would be breaking soon.

Transfigurations came next with two breaks leading to dinner followed by Ancient Runes and History.

By the end of the week you had settled into the groove of it again and were relieved to head back to Hogsmeade where you could have a bit of retail therapy. Gladly bundled up in the increasing snowfall between Snape and Barty you strolled though each shop chatting with the pair who couldn’t be happier to spend all the time they could with you as the other students went a bit crazy at their first trip back to the shopping center in so long.

Quidditch came early the next day after the mini blizzard through your shopping spree and even after the break you were right back at it and through the usual head to head battle it was another stolen victory from Cedric followed by a consoling cup of cocoa for Cho followed by a sharing of sweets from the trip the day before.

The following week you sat for the exams they had and you were content on your final evening to relax before the train ride home again. “Scrimgeour?” Looking at the Prophet front page reading the name of Fudge’s replacement Fred asked. “Isn’t he just another Fudge?”

Cedric nodded, “Dad says that’s close to what he is, always on about how supportive to Fudge he was past the attacks on you. Never outwardly denied Riddle, but no doubt he’d hoped it was lies.”

“I doubt anyone wanted it to be past lies. Aren’t we supposed to have a vote for Minister? Does it say if he’s a temp?”

George, “I doubt they would want a temp.”

Fred nodded, “Probably have too much doubt in a vote right now too.”

“Great.”

Cedric, “Look at it this way, even if he is another Fudge he wouldn’t dare play the same games as him. He can’t be that daft when you’re on every paper.”

With a sigh you settled back in your seat and looked out the window making Fred ask, “Petunia answer you yet?”

You shook your head, “No, Harry said something about Marge visiting for early Holiday. Maybe she’s just busy.”

George chuckled, “Hopefully he doesn’t blow her up again,” Softly you chuckled though even under your hat the darkening of your roots slowly faded through to the end of the braid being smoothed between your fingers.

“Hopefully.”

Pt 50

#Recovery #Cuddles #Back to Hogwarts

9 notes · View notes

sugasmainn · 5 years

Text

Finally Complete [One Shot]

Masterlist

Word Count: 3117

Summary: Being a wife and a mom, you sit down looking at your life around you, thinking and reliving your life over to see how you became this lucky in life.

It’s a cold Sunday afternoon, and we’re just sitting around in our living room relaxing before the hectic week begins again. Looking around, I see my husband sleeping on the couch next to me with our 3-year-old next to him asleep in his lap. Just 10 year ago, I wouldn’t think this is what my life would be like, I didn’t think I could ever have a life like this. Nice house, amazing husband, wonderful child, and a well-paying job. Just looking at them sleeping so blissfully, I began to reminisce on how I exactly became this blessed.

11 years ago, 19 years old:

It’s so cold out here, but it beats being in that dorm room. All I wanted to do was study for this midterm next week. If I even want a CHANCE at keeping this scholarship, I have to maintain my 3.5 average. Yet, my roommate thinks that Wednesday nights are an appropriate time to have a party with as many people as can fit in that room. The library is closed, where do you expect me to go? The bakery around the block from campus should still be open for another two hours.

I walked and entered in with all my mess in my hands. Set my laptop down, opened my notebooks, and ordered myself a nice brownie to help me focus (and to help motivate me to treat myself in my studying). Almost a half hour into my studying and I’m completely focused on my laptop and the slideshows from the lecture, absorbing all the information I can. ‘The functionality of the cone receptors in our eyes is to help us translate colors for our brain to process…’ “Hey, is this seat taken by any chance?” I heard someone asking from in front of me.

“Um, no. Go right ahead” I said without looking up from my laptop. I was trying to get back in my groove, thinking this man was going to take the chair and move it to another table to sit with his friends or something, but he just sat in front of me in silence. I tried to ignore it, but it was kind of odd. Kind of like when you’re on the bus, and there are all these open seats, but the person coming on decides to take one next to you instead of one by themselves.

After some time passed, the man spoke again, saying, “You seem very focused on whatever is on that screen. I’m assuming it’s exam season?”

“Yeah. Have one of my first midterms next week” I said, still not looking up from my laptop.

“You also seem as though you’ve been overworking yourself.” He said, then sliding me a biscuit. What the hell? I looked up from my laptop to be met with the man who was studying his coffee cup with a poker face.

“Why are you giving this to me?” I asked severely confused.

“You haven’t looked away from that screen in the 15 minutes it took me to place my order and have them make it. I think you need this more than I do” He said still not looking at me.

“You don’t even know me”

“Stranger can’t be nice from time to time? Makes the world go round. Plus, consider it to be a good luck biscuit” He said chuckling a bit, now making eye contact with me. Wow, he was handsome. “But, so that way we aren’t strangers anymore, I’m Min Yoongi. What’s your name?”

“L/N Y/N” I said shyly.

“It’s nice to meet you. Now, what is it that you’re studying for?” He asked looking like he’s genuinely interested in my boring information on the biology of the eye.

8 years ago. 22 years old:

Who would have thought I’d be graduating college today? And, valedictorian of my class! All those long nights, days of crying on Yoongi’s shoulder about how I wanted to quit, yelling at my roommate for hindering my studying and stressing me out more, I made it. I really do thank it all to Yoongi. He’s been my rock these last few years, telling me to never give up and that I was better than quitting. That I was going to make something of myself. Yoongi was standing next to me in the mirror, just looking at us together, saying, “I’m so proud of you. You believed you could, and you did it. I can’t believe I’m about to watch you, L/N Y/N, my girlfriend, graduate on stage and get that diploma.”

“I’m so nervous about the speech” I said shaking slightly in my voice.

“Why? You’ve prepared it three times over. Everything you say is like a work of art. You’re going to do amazing. Just remember I’ll be there. Focus on me. It’ll be fine, just breathe and relax, okay?” He said with reassuring eyes.

I couldn’t help but smile at him, and say, “You’re the best. I love you so much.”

He responded with, “I love you more.”

Throughout the ceremony, I could feel myself sweating through almost everything and everywhere. I tried to remember what Yoongi said. I tried breathing in and out. I looked around to see if I could find him sitting with my roommate, and once we made eye contact, all my worry washed away. He gave me his famous smile, and suddenly, I felt like I was at home. Turning back around, I was waiting for them to call my name to make my speech, “And now, we will have a speech, given to us by our valedictorian, L/N Y/N” The dean of the school called out my name, and I took deep breaths as I walked onto the stage.

Dear Class,

We made it. It wasn’t easy, but we did it. We can finally breathe, until we get a job and have that weighing on us. Life just doesn’t seem to light up does it?

My life has been anything but easy. My mom left us when I was 7, and my dad was left to provide for me all on his own. He tried endlessly to show me that we were okay, but I knew the truth. I could see far beyond what his words were telling me. So, at the age of 10, I got my first job as a paper girl for my town. Every morning before school, I’d go on my paper route and deliver nearly 200 newspapers. It was little money, but it helped when we saved it for emergencies.

By the time I was 16, I worked a part time job and was a full-time high school student. I was always determined to do well in school, to provide the life my father deserved, so he could finally rest from all that he did for me. I worked endlessly to make sure I was top of my AP classes, and got into the best colleges. All I thought about was school.

During my time here, I’ve learned that life is so much more than just book knowledge. My father sadly passed away my first year here. It hurts me so much, I almost dropped out of school because I felt there was no point anymore. As I was going through his stuff, I found a letter written to me during my time in high school, where my dad said that he was glad I was working so hard. That I was showing him that all the work he was doing was well worth it and more. He said his dream was to see me graduate from college and have a family of my own. It was then I knew, college was a must, no excuses. I had my purpose, and my father gave that purpose to me.

My boyfriend, Yoongi, also gave me my other purpose, a family. He’s been my number one supporter these last few years. He’s given me the motivation and encouragement I needed on days where I felt like I couldn’t do it anymore. He reminded me that he saw me for who I was, and so did my dad. I’m not a quitter. Yoongi, you are my family. You are my love and my life. You are my everything. I’m so thankful to have you, and I truly believe you were a gift sent to me from my father. I love you so much. And class, I’m proud of all of you, because I know the road was not easy ONE. BIT.

When I turned the page, I saw my last paragraph was missing, and instead it was replaced. Though, I didn’t realize it in time, and read it out loud to the crowd,“Will you marry me Y/N? ~Yoongi” I stood there in shock, as did the rest of the crowd with a gasp coming from them. I looked up to where I previously saw Yoongi sitting with my roommate and saw him, now standing, showing me a ring in a box.

Without a second’s hesitation, I said through the microphone, “YESSSSS!” receiving claps and sounds of praise from the audience, but all I could focus on was Yoongi. My love.

6 years ago. 24 years old:

Today’s the day. The day I promise forever to my best friend. My bridesmaids were helping me, and themselves get ready. Making our way to the church, all my friends were telling me that I was so lucky to be marrying the love of my life, and yes, truly was, but I wasn’t feeling as hyped as I probably should. Yoongi and I had gotten into a fight a couple of nights agobecause I had felt he was spending too much time at his studio writing music. Neglecting me and our plans. There were nights we had to cancel our dates or outings because he was stuck working on a song proposal till late. I had finally had enough, and when I mentioned it to him, he became defensive and it turned into a fight.

Though no one has formally tried to reconcile and move passed the issue, we weren’t going to move the wedding. We knew we wanted to spend our lives together, but we are just having a hiccup on the road. Nothing abnormal.

As the music began to play, I saw Yoongi for the first time since our fight a couple of nights ago. He looked at me, emotionless. This is not how I imagine my husband to react when he saw me walking down the aisle. Just as I was half way down, I looked up, and through my veil, I saw Yoongi spilling out tears from his eyes that he tried to hold back. Once his best man, Namjoon, had put his hand on his back, it was all over from there. The water works started to stream out of control. Now this is how I imagined it.

Once I had reached Yoongi at the front of the alter, he looked at me and whispered, “You look so beautiful. I’m so sorry for yelling at you and saying that you never support me. You always do. I love you so much, and I’m going to try harder to make it home with enough time to spend some time with you.”

I just smiled in response, letting him know that it’s fine and I love him. The preacher continued on with the ceremony and came up to our vows. Mine was short, sweet, and simple. Went straight to the point: Ever since I met you, my life has just enhanced. I thank God, and my father, for sending you to me every day. You’re my now and my forever. I love you Min Yoongi. I do now, and forever.

Once I was done, it was his turn to say his vows:From the day I met you at the bakery, I knew there was something about you that I had to know. Ever since then, my life has been nothing but an adventure. Once I knew you as a friend, my heart only continued to grow more interested and invested in you. I’ve never been good with my emotions, so I didn’t know what I was feeling exactly, but once I heard that sweet laugh of yours, I knew it was love. I’ve been in love with you ever since, and I’ll continue to be in love with you forever. I do completely.

With that, the preacher finally declared that we were now, Mr. and Mrs. Min Yoongi.

4 years ago. 26 years old:

Everything was hurting. My back, my legs, my arms from gripping on the rails so hard, I couldn’t even believe I managed to hang on this long. I was currently 7 hours into labor with our first child. Yoongi and I decided to wait until our baby was born before we found out the gender of the baby. I had taken an epidural, but it was beginning to give out. I had asked the nurses, “Can I please get a refill on the epidural medication?”

“Mrs. Min Y/N, you’re 8cm. dilated. You are about to get ready to push your baby out. We can’t give you anymore. Just try to relax until your doctor comes here to help you push” The older nurse said sympathetically.

Once she left the room, I looked over to Yoongi who was sitting next to me in a chair making sure I was being cared for. “This is all your fault” I said angrily though tears.

“How is this my fault?” Yoongi asked confused.

“YOU are the one who planted your seed into my uterus, and YOU are the one who said the romantic weekend getaway to Busan was a ‘great idea’. Now look at me! I’m having a human being tear up my vagina” I said through pain.

“I’m going to let this one slide because you’re about to give birth to our child” He said now taking my hand to hold. “But, I do love you, even if you can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“Now’s not the time you, asshole” I said through gritted teeth. My doctor came into the room greeting me and Yoongi, telling us that it was time for me to push because I had finally reached 10cm.

“Are you sure? Because I still feel like the baby is going to tear me up badly.”

“Tearing is normal in vaginal births. We are going to take good care of you, and your precious bundle in here. Just push when I say push, and your baby will be in your arms in no time. Plus, you have a wonderful husband here to help comfort and guide you” The doctor said, flashing a smile at Yoongi.

Yoongi ate that compliment up and said, “See? You have a WONDERFUL husband Y/N.”

“Yoongi, do me a favor and have a cup of shut up.”

For the next 20 minutes, I was pushing, and pushing, with what felt like more strength than I had to give. After what felt like the millionth push, I finally heard the screams of a precious baby. My precious baby, and all the pain and agony I had just went through for the last 8 hours seemed to be worth it and more.

“Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Min, it’s a healthy baby girl!” The doctor said.

“A girl?” Yoongi asked shocked. When they had finished cleaning up our little girl, they handed her over to Yoongi. The last time I saw Yoongi cry was at our wedding, but now, holding his little girl in his arms, he was starting to choke up with tears. Sitting next to me, he looked down at her and whispered, “I love you so much baby. Daddy is going to make sure you have everything you need and could want. No one is ever going to hurt you and get away with it, you hear me?”

I looked over at him, as he handed me our baby girl, and I started to cry with joy overflowing. She reminded me so much of my father. I so wish he could have been here to see his granddaughter being born. He would have loved to be a grandfather, especially to a little girl. I looked over at Yoongi and asked him, “What should we name our angel?”

He took a moment, and then said, “I know we aren’t religious people, but what about Esther? Wasn’t she a strong and empowered woman who stood up to a man of authority in the Bible?”

“Yeah, I believe she was”

“So, what do you think about Esther?” He asked waiting for my answer.

“Min Esther…I like it!” I said happily looking down at our new precious bundle of joy.

“Esther. Our little badass like the original badass” Yoongi said about our baby with pride. I could live in this moment forever. My little family and I surrounding each other with adoration and love.

Present Day. 29 years old:

After a half hour had gone by, I had seen Yoongi wake up slightly, still having one hand on our sleeping daughter, and his eyes looking at me with a small smile forming on his lips. “What are you doing just sitting here in the quiet?” He asked. I think now would be the right time to tell him the big news.

I’ve been trying to find time all week to tell him, but now feels more right then ever. “Oh nothing, just thinking about how blessed I am to have all three of you in my life to love.”

Yoongi looked at me confused and said, “It’s only Esther and I, unless you’re referring to yourself” He said chuckling softly at the end.

“No.” I said now getting up to put his hand on my stomach. “The three of you.”

“…You’re…Pregnant?!” He said a bit too loud.

“SH! Yes! I am! But, don’t wake up Esther. I want us to tell her in a fun way that she’s going to be a big sister” I said.

He looked like he was over the moon, looked down to where I was kneeling in front of him on the couch, and said, “You are truly the love of my life and the best thing that’s happened to me. Thank you for giving me these, now two, little gifts. I love you more than you’ll ever know” He said kissing me after.

“I love you, and Esther, more” I replied. My life was blessed beyond measure. Never did I think I was deserving of this kind of love, from a husband, and now two children we made. I’m more than happy and blessed, I’m finally complete.

49 notes · View notes

punkrockkenzie · 5 years

Text

Congratulations! You’re Getting Old.

January 24th happens every year. Each new year tacks on another layer to my existence. When I was younger I would anticipate the date...I would eagerly await its arrival, the day that brought me closer to the things I had always known were out there for me. Closer to where my insides felt, closer to the proof that I was not just some little unknowing thing.

When I turned 10 I thought to myself how grown I must have been to no longer be in the single digits. I thought about how I only had to get through half of my current time on this earth until I could drive, how I had already lived longer than the 8 more years needed for me to turn 18; how 18 was so close to 21 and how after that, well, I would be old.

Old enough at least. I would be such the adult, and not only would I be looked at as one, but surely by then it would be understandable to have to feel like one.

By the age of 10 I was faced with what we as a people consider adult like circumstances, trying to hold together a sense of being far more mature than that of my typical peer. By 10, I was to me, all ready grown. I couldn't grasp the image shown in any mirror. What was reflected was not the me I had known myself as and if you had asked me then to answer how old I was without having had counted the years, my age would have proceeded any number that was represented in actuality. At 10 it was very difficult for me to have to go along with being a responsibility of others instead of being this, responsible for myself version that I had already been transformed into. While my future always seemed to be a lifetime away it soon became apparent to me that these birthdays were nothing more than my body adjusting to where my mind was. My body just happened to move at a much slower pace then the tornado of a brain which I was given. I would become frustrated at it, at myself, trying to will it to grow faster, telling myself over and over again that I would awake in the morning and years would have passed on by. I wouldn't wake up a 10 or even an 11 year old. I wouldn't be packing my lunch or getting ready for school; I would be no one else's worry or follower of instructions that I didn't want to listen to or have to go along with, I would have no more, because I said sos, or lack of opinion or oppression in my life. I would have no more pain, no more hurt; I would be overwhelmed with this sense of freedom....this sense of grown people freedom.

Night after night I would tell myself that it was going to happen, and every morning I would get up and look in the mirror to see that it hadn't. Each morning I would think that my years labeled a child would be eternal. Each morning I would be met with a sadness that the world would not see me as who I felt myself to be. Each morning I woke up a day older instead of the years I had prayed would pass, and each morning invoked a sense of ground hog day; purgatory.

That is of course, until one morning; my prayers came true. I looked in the mirror, and I was indeed, grown.

Now, I'm not exactly sure when that morning took place. I'm not exactly sure when my brain had felt that my body had caught up to it because it was never really allowed a chance to grow in adult manners the way one quote unquote, should. It was forced to teeter between young teenage years and a non virginal being. It was developing a human before it was to be seen from any outside view as an experienced human itself and it was caring for others before it was supposed to be caring for anyone or anything at all on its own. Whenever it happened though, it did. My nights of wanting came to a fruition and all I could do was wonder when this miraculous event had taken place.

At what place in time did I make the leap from child to adult? In technicality I was emancipated at 16, in certain terms it was then. In technicality I was behaving like an adult in late Jr Highschool. I became a mother at 17, to some it may have happened as soon my stomach was opened wide enough to pull out a new little life. I turned 18 and was allowed to vote, to buy cigarettes...maybe it was then....? I turned 21 and could go out to a bar....was that when it happened?

At 16, I was my own person. At 16, I was unprepared. At 17 I was a mother At 17 I was 35. At 18 I could vote. At 18 I could smoke. At 18 I tried to remember that I was only 18. At 19 I was a mother of two. I was also very alone. At 21 I became official, there was nothing I wasn't old enough for. At 21 I tried to find balance in life. At 22 I was a mother of three. At 22 I was near hopeless. 23 made me empty in many ways. 24 I felt vibrancy, growth, self... 25 was alive. Happy. Conquering. Motivating. Whole. and then, there was 26....

Damn 26.

All of a sudden it seemed as if time had crept up on me. It felt as if I had woken up... grown, as I had planned to since 10. Before I even realized it I was looking at 30. It was glaring it's taunting eyes at me, telling me that soon I would be the person 16 year old me swore that she would never become. All of a sudden I heard this tick tick tick that I had never heard before. This, look around, everyone you have known is gone. Who makes you feel like 25 did? Nothing is giving you what 25 did. You're barely keeping a float; and your 17, 19, and 22; need you to do more than float dammit. Much more than float.

26 and 27 brought fear. 26 and 27 brought stress that was beyond anything I could have envisioned. They brought with them hurt. They brought tears that either cried loudly without ever escaping my eyes or sobbed from deep inside the place they hid, every once in a while emerging with a push that pushed so hard from my stomach it would ache long, long after the tears had dried. They brought uncertainty and sense of loss. A loss of myself. A loss of hope. A loss of time, of being and of destiny. A loss of the things that had made my 25 all it was. 25 saw future. 26 saw it torn to shreds. 25 saw promise. 27 saw its demise. 25 saw freedom and hope and passion. 26 saw want. Missing. Longing. 26 saw what 25 had taken for granted.

Tick tick tick.....

Apparently there's this thing called a biological clock.

From what I gather it goes something like this....

Tick, you're getting older. Tick, do you want more babies? Tick, you better hurry up. Tick, you don't have forever. Tick, what if you never have anymore.

Tick.....

Your brain does this....

Tock, I'm not that old.... Tock, yes I do..... Tock, I need more than babies to have babies.... Tock, I know, please shut up now.... Tock, If it never happens....I guess I need to be able to be okay with that.....

Tick. Tock.

Life says.....what are you going to do with what I've given you...? What is to become of your time here? How much time do you really think you have...? Is it an assumption to believe you will get another 50 years..? Who are you to make of yourself? With whom? When? How?

You know, 30 is still glaring....

Yes, yes life, I know that 30 is still glaring. In fact, its shoving its whole face in mine...telling me that soon it will consume me...that soon, I will be an all encompassed adult.

There's this part of me...this, been with me my whole life part of me that acknowledges my ascent; or descent for that matter through the confines of time all while remembering what it is to be child like. It remembers what it's like when hope was all you were awarded and splashing in puddles and running through rainstorms and climbing trees were rebellious connections to something bigger than us, then where we've been, then where we are going; moments bigger than anything we could logically rationalize so they instead left us with feeling placed, purposed and blissfully content. It was a connection bigger than the thought provoked ideas of......well..time. It didn't push and it didn't pull. It just was. Found in moments that stood still, found in those summer days that went forever and those that were bathed in self realizations. It is in this view; the view of just is..that time's power diminishes. Moments in each waking day where life becomes surreal, where the trees seem to be beautiful swaying decor and the smell of fresh rain fills our nostrils with the cycle of life are held, captured even, by this small protected part of me. It is the part that promotes the essence of being beyond the tick tock start to end existence that at some point we all start to hear.

26 Sucked. Rug pulled from under me, sucked. Lost. Alone. Scared. 27 Was worse. How? Why? I hate this. 28 Was surviving. Staying alive. Keeping my children safe. Fed. Warm. Wanted. Loved. 29 Was what the hell just happened? This can't be right. 30 Was denial. Definitely not right. Where am I? Where am going? Where is everyone? Who am I becoming? 31 Was healing. Soul searching. Wanting. Finding. Asking. Answering. Looking. Accepting. Tomorrow makes for 32. What In The Actual Fuck....

Tomorrow makes for what the years before have taught me and prepared me for. I am strong and capable and deserving. I am honest and true and loving. I am driven and ambitious. I am who I am, I want what I want, and I am going to give it to myself with those who love and appreciate me for it. 30 has shown itself, even if I didn't want to see it. It came pushing itself like a bull in a China shop ripping apart my 20-something year old ego. It forced me to piece myself back together and reminded me that time stops for no one. 10 is gone, 16 is gone, 25 and 27 are gone; and 35 will one day be here. I used to only want to be an adult. Now all I want is to not take for granted the days and hours and minutes because while I once thought that they would forever continue, I now understand that they will not slow down.

Tomorrow is January 24th. The day that used to mean cake and excitement and thoughts of being grown. The day that now has become a reminder to keep pushing for who I am and what I need out of this life because it will continue to return, and it seems to hasten it's speed each time. I intend to use the lessons of the January 24ths of the past. I intend to continue to strive to beat the Tick Tock of the clock by living my life the way it seems best. It has taken a good amount of January 24ths to get to this point of understanding and in all honesty, I'm not sure that I'm all the way there, but that's the beautiful part of life. It's a continuous journey. One that I hope to fill with much more life to be lived.

Not going to lie, I feel like my wish to be older has become some sort of cruel joke because now that I'm "older", I can't stop myself from getting old. My only remedy to this, is to wish that as I continue to meet more birthdays, I will gain more than only age.

Here's to another year, let's make it one of happiness, passions, truth, value and love. I wish you all the very best in whatever it is you want the years to bring you.

Much Love. KBXO

#writer #write #blog #read #life #real life #growing up #growth #birthday #selfworth #self love #xo #muah

1 note · View note