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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

Text

You were all I wanted

Pairing: mob!Peter Parker x plus-sized!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, swearing, kidnapping, human trafficking, slight mention of body shaming, allusion to non-con.

Words: 2195.

Summary: You are bought by the head of Stark crime family for a kid he cares about.

P.S. Peter is an adult!

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"We hope you are going to enjoy your new girl, Mr. Stark." The man loosened his grip on your shoulder as he let you march straight into the arms of a stranger in a fancy striped suit and big frightening men with guns surrounding him.

"Nah, this one isn't for me." The stranger who bought you brushed it off as if your presence meant nothing. "She's a present for the boy. Peter, where the fuck are you?"

You almost jumped at his loud voice, keeping your head low and watching your unstable feet. Well, you expected as much - before you that mysterious Mr. Stark bought one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life. Her striking black hair was shining even in the dim lights of the dressing room where all captured girls were taken care of before the start of the auction. She costed twice more than you and had much more admirers - you remembered how men were shouting, trying to outbid each other. You weren't that popular, but still ended up being purchased by the same man she was. Now it all made sense.

"I'm here, Mr. Stark!" A young boy's head popped out in the crowd of other buyers, and he emerged right in front of you with a long men's coat in his hands. "I'm sorry it took me so long!"

"Look at this gent." The man smirked at him, and his guards laughed a little at the boy's enthusiasm. "So caring! I hope you're not going to take the girl straight to church?"

Now there was an inappropriately loud burst of laughter, and you bit your own tongue. They all were a bunch of bastards, but your life depended on them now. You needed to keep your mouth shut if you wanted to make it out alive.

The boy smiled brightly at his patron and looked at you with sparkles of happiness in his dark eyes. Oh, at least he was more or less pleased with the way you looked, you thought.

"Congrats with your first girl, Peter." Mr. Stark's smug grin suddenly turned warm at the sight of the boy who was almost jumping with excitement in front of him. "You're sure she's the one you want? I can still get a replacement if you've changed your mind."

"No, no, Mr. Stark, she's perfect for me!" Once the man in the suit nudged you to come closer to the boy, Peter gently wrapped your shoulders into the coat he carried and smiled at you widely. "Thank you so much for your present, sir!"

"Enjoy, kid." His patron smirked and motioned to the men waiting for him. "Let's get going then, I have business to attend to."

Judging by their nasty smirks, his business had something to do with that gorgeous black-haired woman they took somewhere earlier. You did your best not to throw up at the thought of him forcing her down her knees.

"Can you walk?" The boy suddenly asked you quietly, and you blinked. "Do you want me to carry you?"

Nice joke. The guy looked twice slimmer than you, skinny as a rail. You'd break him in half, probably. You weren't sure whether he was mocking you, but it was obviously not the right time to throw a temper tantrum.

"I can walk. Thank you." You mumbled and made a step towards those men who were already leaving.

"Ok. Come with me then." You thought his boyish smile looked pretty.

You walked past other girls dressed in expensive flashy lingerie adorned with glitter, sequins, and laces. Some of young women were as terrified as you were, their faces red with tears; the others seemed strangely happy, shouting something to each other and giggling in front of their new masters - you thought those girls were prostitutes or someone of the same kind because the idea of laughing happily after being bought like a piece of clothing didn't sit well with you. You spotted a few more ladies who were still unstable on their feet because they were given too much drugs, probably. Two dozens women, maybe more, were gathered in a place like that to become someone's property. Like you did now.

It was cold outside despite September being usually warm in New York. You had never lived here before, but one of your friends moved in the Big Apple two years ago and was always talking about nice weather they often enjoyed.

"It's right over there." The boy pointed to one of the cars in a long row of them, Mr. Stark already getting inside a ridiculously fashionable one. Peter's old Honda was nowhere near that, but you were relieved. It made you feel like you weren't taken to some scary place full of criminals waiting to fuck the shit out of you.

The kid opened the door for you like you were some fairytale princess or something, and you got inside, holding the coat that almost slipped from your shaking shoulders while the boy quickly landed on the driver's seat. You couldn't guess his age, but if he drove the car he was probably older than 16.

"I'm so sorry, I know you're cold." He glanced at your silk robe beneath the coat, your legs bare - you had nothing but fluffy slippers on your feet. "It'll get better in a minute."

What a considerate little guy. If he didn't show up with that overconfident mobster who looked like he owned New York, you'd think Peter was some sweet high schooler who spent his weekends working in an animal shelter. But you weren't stupid to believe his innocent looks.

At one point you thought he might be Mr. Stark's illegitimate son, but something told you it wasn't that. The way Peter looked at him with adoration proved that the man was more of his patron as you suspected from the very beginning.

"I know they didn't feed you today, so I brought you some chicken soup." He said and reached to grab something from the back seat - you glanced at the metal food jar thermos that softly landed on your naked lap.

Did he bring you food? For real? No, it must be some trick - there were drugs or something like that there, for sure. Why else was this guy playing the role of your mother, for God's sake?

"You're not allergic to chicken, are you?" Kid looked concerned, watching the troubled expression on your face. "Oh shoot, I didn't check your allergies!"

"I'm not allergic." You quickly replied, afraid to make him upset.

He was getting restless too fast, you thought. Peter really behaved like a kid. What was that Mr. Stark told him after the auction? Something like "congrats with your first girl", wasn't it? So, it probably meant Peter had never been with a woman before. Not that you had been with a man, either. Maybe that's why he picked you.

But it also could be all an act. Teenagers weren't getting slaves to take care of their sexual needs. Maybe this Peter wasn't as young as you thought, and in fact he was some psycho who planned to drug, rape and murder you.

Either way, he would get mad if you didn't get started with that soup - you could read it in his face.

Opening the jar, you felt a delicious smell filling your nostrils when your stomach made an ugly sound. Damn, you had never been so hungry in your entire life.

The truth was the supervisors who took care of all the girls before the auction made you starve for two days "to get you in shape". They said you were too fat and they had to do something to make you at least a bit more presentable.

"Well, if I'm going to die, I will die with a full stomach." You thought gloomly and started gulping down the warm soup. It tasted heavenly good.

The boy watched you in awe as if you were becoming more and more beautiful with eash sip.

"I'm not much of a cook, but Aunt May managed to teach me to make a chicken soup." He said with a sudden warmth to his voice. "So, um, don't worry, you won't die of starvation with me."

You forced yourself to smile at his attempt to make a small joke. As far as you were concerned, your body was perfectly okay even after you finished eating. Maybe the drug took longer to start affecting you, but maybe you were just lucky and there was nothing in the soup at all.

All of a sudden, Peter's phone started ringing, and he took it from the pocket of his jacket immediately.

"Where the fuck are you again, kid?" You could hear Stark's thundering voice even from your seat.

"I'm sorry, sir!" The boy squeaked and adjusted his seatbelt. "We're coming!"

____________

The room he brought you to was fairly large and comfortable to your tastes: there were a comfy king-sized bed, a huge table with a dozen of oddly-looking gadgets and two screens, a chair, a drawer and a closet. There was also a newly-bought TV that wasn't set up yet, and a microwave on a side table.

"I'm terribly sorry for the mess." Peter apologized to you as if you were his parent who came to scold him. "Don't worry, I'll take it all away. Please come and sit here."

He briefly gestured to the bed, and you bit down on your lower lip nervously. The kid was fast.

You didn't talk much in the car since you were waiting for the drug to kick in, but nothing happened. As for Peter, you thought that he was too shy to talk, but maybe he just didn't want to. In the end, he asked his patron to buy you for a very different reason.

"The bathroom is over there. You can take your shower, if you want." He smiled childishly at you.

How could he keep such innocent face when he was about to rape you?

You gathered whatever courage you had left and said, "C-can we talk?"

The boy froze on the spot and dropped whatever gadget he was holding back on the table. You glanced at his skinny boyish figure, that dark ruffled hair and a really pretty face - he looked like your neighbor's sweet son who would climb a tree to get a cat stuck up there back to the ground.

"Of course!" Peter landed on the bed close to you, watching you with his undying enthusiasm. "What would you like to talk about?"

"Why did you choose me?"

You really wanted to know. You weren't the usual goods they sold on that auction, the human traffickers said. Though there were a few girls who weren't breathtakingly beautiful, most of the ones brought there were well above average women. They looked like they came straight from Victoria's Secret Show.

"Well... um." You could see his ears getting red. "You're... pretty. I like you."

Huh, funny. Why did you ask? The answer was obvious - you were cheap. Mr. Stark didn't want to spend too much money on a present for the kid, so Peter had rather limited choice, probably.

"Why are you getting upset?" He sounded so concerned that you made yourself smile again to calm him down. Anyway, it was better to be grateful. You were almost sold to some disgusting old man. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, you didn't. I'm sorry." You hurried to say. "I'm sorry you didn't get anyone better than me. That place was full of magnificent women."

What the fuck were you saying? Did you seriously think those poor souls deserved to be sold like cattle just because they were prettier than you? God, you were so messed up.

"Wait, no!" The boy grabbed your hands in his and made you flinch involuntarily. "No, no, you're beautiful! I chose you because I like you more than anyone else."

Bewildered, you looked at his worried expression, his eyes staring at you intensely while you squeezed your thighs together. Hearing the boy say that felt very odd, but kind of... comforting? Not many people ever called you beautiful, mind your mother and a few friends. It was stupid to think about it now when the one calling you that was the man whose property you had become, yet you couldn't help but get those little butterflies in your stomach.

You eyes watered, and you quickly wiped your tears away.

"People were treating you badly, weren't they? It's terrible." The boy pulled out a pack of napkins and took one, gently pressing it to your wet cheek. "But I swear I fell in love with you once I saw your photos on the website. You're the prettiest girl I've ever met, for real!"

When he removed the napkin, you saw his pupils dilating and felt his breath becoming ragged, heavy. One of his hands rested on your thigh as he leaned closer to you and sniffed your hair. Your body went stiff.

"No one gonna say anything nasty to you from now on. I'll make sure of that."

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Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint @msruchita @opheliadawnwalker3

#peter parker x reader #dark peter parker x reader #dark peter parker #peter parker #spiderman #spidey #yandere #tom holland

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thecipherlegacy · 3 years

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Comfort and Confessions

A short fic of when Noiren finally confesses to Kenaas. I've been in the mood to write these two lately 💛

Enjoy!

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Noiren clung to his glass as if it were a lifeline. His ruby fingers curled around it, shaking, which caused the amber liquid inside to ripple as if there was a ground quake.

Some thing odd was happening, leaving him confused and distraught. The Jedi he had taken in and began to teach the ways of the sith to, he had really gotten under his skin. Not in a way that made him angry, oh no. Quite the opposite, really. He adored him, trusted him with his life. He had never had a good track record with trusting others, which was why the only two in his ship before the small nautolan showed up was his brother and an HK unit. But he felt this connection, this bond in the force that grew stronger and stronger with this nautolan every passing day.

"Are you going to actually drink that? Or are you going to stare into it until you get a premonition?" The alien in question broke through the man's thoughts. Noiren jumped and made an unflattering sound. He thought he had been alone at the table. But he supposed in a small ship someone would find him eventually. The sith lord straightened back up and re-wrapped his left lekku over his shoulder comfortably to once again hide the scars around his neck.

"I thought you were asleep" he responded cooly. "It's late"

"Hm. Says the man sitting alone in the dark with whiskey" the other man's brow raised at him. His large dark eyes were shining with worry. "I woke because I could feel your discomfort. Your brother felt it as well, but I insisted he sleep."

The twi'lek huffed. "I'll be fine. I'm simply nervous about trying to track down this republic captain I've been ordered to look for." He lied. In response, the small nautolan looked unconvinced and unimpressed.

"You know that I know when you lie, right?" He asked flatly as his fingers drummed in the table, as he tended to do when he got frustrated or impatient. "You've been acting oddly toward me lately. Why? Have I done something wrong?"

Noiren shook his head "No. You're perfect" he sighed, then his cheeks deepened in colour and he tried to correct what he said. "I mean fine- well… not fine, but- ugh. You know what I mean."

The other male giggled wildly at his fumbling. "My goodness, how many drinks have you had?" He asked.

In an instant the glass was up to Noirens lips and he downed the liquor inside. "One, officially" he muttered. "So were you coming out here to actually help me or just make me wish I was drinking alone in the dark in my room?"

The laugher died down and Kenaas pat his arm. "Aw Noiren, I'm sorry. Your fumbling was just adorable." He admitted "talk to me, what's eating you?"

Why did he give him that option again? HE was eating him. Every thought of the small nautolan man was eating away at his body and mind. His heart skipped beats when he was around and his mind clouded. He felt a connection to him in the force as strong if not stronger than his familial bond with his brother. Those big black eyes, vast as the night sky, stared up at him as he awaited a response.

"I'm not sure" came the lie after a seemingly endless and tense silence.

A hand covered Noiren's to attempt some comfort. Such a small hand felt so heavy on his own, and he tore it away quickly as if he had been burned by it. His regret for the action was immediate when he saw those soulful eyes turn away in hurt.

"Ah- I see. I'll stop bothering you, my friend. When you're ready to talk you know where to find me."

Noiren screamed at himself internally to say something, anything, to stop Kenaas from leaving. But instead he sat quietly while the other man left the room with a dejected slump in his walk. He hurt him. "Coward…" noiren scolded himself and poured another glass of whiskey.

This glass went down as quickly as the first. Liquid courage, he thought. After his fourth time pouring a new glass a yellow colored hand gently slid over the rim of the cup to keep Noiren from drinking from it. "I can't sleep while my brother is so distressed." Aidesan's kind voice filled the room. "What happened?"

The sith lord sighed and looked up at his brother. His head was fogged, but he wouldn't say he was drunk. "I upset Kenaas. I don't know what's wrong with me." The older man groaned and hid his face in frustration. "I haven't been able to keep a clear head around him and I feel this weird connection with him, in the force" he sighed. His brother started to chuckle.

"You really don't know whats going on?... Noiren… you're in love with the little jedi" Aidesan stated matter of factly. "Your fumbling, your staring, your-"

"No. No no, that can't be true. I… I can't be in love." Noiren denied quickly. "I swore I wouldn't."

"Wouldn't love? Or Wouldn't love him?" His brother raised a brow at him "you love me don't you? You're kid brother?"

"Yes but that's different! You're family. Romantic love leads to pain. I would be putting down my shield and letting him see my weaknesses. Weaknesses he could easily exploit later." Noiren began to pace, albeit a little crooked and wobbly since the alcohol had made him less stable.

"Brother." Aidesan stopped him with a stern tone. "Do you really think that sweet nautolan would harm you? He apologizes for squashing bugs. Give him a chance. And more importantly, give yourself a chance."

A deep sigh escaped the older one's lips, then he slowly turned to face the other man. "He deserves better. He's pure and gentle. Passionate. He's a healer and a fixer. My soul purpose is to break things and kill people."

As he finished speaking, two gentle hands rested in his shoulders. "Noiren… you're so much more than that, and even if that is partially true, he's a fixer and you're a breaker. You complete each other, right?"

This earned a chuckle that came out as a scoff. "Maybe." He muttered softly as he crossed his arms as if they were a protective barrier.

"Noiren… Go talk to him. Don't let him go to sleep feeling this way."

The older twi'lek sighed dramatically and glanced into the dark hall. "Alright. You need to get some sleep, though." He frowned.

"I will, brother. Let me know how it goes" the younger gave him one more smile, then retreated back to his own quarters on the ship. Noiren sighed again and went to Kenass's quarters nervously. He stared at the closed door. It shouldn't have been that hard to just knock, but that durasteel sheet between himself and the other force user felt heavy and intimidating.

Suddenly the door slid open, startling the sith, and the younger male was looking up at him from the other side.

"Noiren. I can feel your presence you know, we share quite the profound bond" he said as he turned to go back to his bed. "Is there something I can help you with? You reek of whiskey."

"I want to talk to you" The other mumbled. He watched the nautolan sit upon the bed gracefully. Everything he did always looked so beautiful. How had he not realized that before?

"Then speak, my friend. You know I'm always here to help you. I was hoping you would come to chat. You need to get quite the weight off your chest."

Noiren nodded before sitting beside him. "Kenaas…" he sighed as he prepared himself to speak. "when I was a child, on Ryloth, I had two brothers and a twin sister-" he started from the beginning. The younger one's dark eyes widened as he listened. Noiren had never opened up before, at least not to this extent. He always refused to talk about his youth.

"You know my brother, Aidesan. I also have my youngest brother Orcra, who was put into Imperial intelligence, and my poor sister, Arianness… she was sold as a slave. We were taken by the imperials when we were just kids. I watched them execute my parents." As Noiren spoke he attempted to not show how hard it was to talk about his family, but he didn't have to. Kenaas could feel every emotion the other man was feeling. His emotions hit like a wave in the force to the jedi and his own eyes shimmered with tears from the intensity.

"What happened after you were separated?..." Kenaas worried and gently touched Noiren's hand. This time the other man didn't pull away. He knew he was vulnerable. He needed the contact. Noirens chest rose and fell with a sputter after their hands connected. It was as if a direct link was made between them and it hit him like a brick. All of the feelings he had been suppressing, all of the feelings in his companion, the power they both held in the force. It all melted together instantly and he had never felt anything like it.

Once the shock of the new feeling passed he finally answered. "I stopped trusting people." He said. He hadn't realized that he had gotten a little closer to his friend. "The only people that mattered were my siblings. I did as I was told just so I could stay alive and keep my brother alive. That is…. Until I ran into you on Tatooine."

A small smile played the nautolans lips "you imprisoned me on your ship" he reminded him.

"But even then I felt…. Something. Something new, something strange. Something I only share with my family. It was like I knew you. But I had never met you before. And it's gotten stronger and stronger. I can feel where you are in the ship. I can feel what you feel."

Kenaas squeezed his hand a little "I know." He mumbled, then placed his free hand on Noiren's cheek "Even when we first met I felt your sorrow. Your pain. We both needed someone that could understand our hardships. The moment we met a bond was struck in the force. I may not understand why, but I refuse to question it."

The sith leaned into the gentle touch, desperate for any sort of comfort or affection. "I'm sorry I shoved you off earlier… I was afraid" his words came out as nearly a whisper. Admitting to fear wasn't easy for him.

Their foreheads gently made contact. "Hush. It's alright, it stung but I knew you would come to me when you were ready."

There was a brief silence as Noiren took a deep breath, then released it. His nerves were calming under the feeling of his companions gentle and kind aura. For every tidal wave of broken emotions he would send out, the other man's healing soul would calm and help control it by blanketing his fears and doubts in reassurance and compassion. He was the calming moon to the sith's roaring ocean.

"I love you…" Noiren let it out, a broken whisper riding a shaken breath. He hadn't realized his eyes had been closed for so long until he opened them finally to see the beautiful nautolan looking back at him with a smile and blush dusting his freckled purple cheeks.

"I know" he replied gently and caressed Noirens cheek with his thumb. "I love you too."

They sat in a comfortable silence before finally meeting for a gentle kiss. It was inexperienced, but soft, and filled with every unsaid word and emotion Noiren wanted to give him. His whole heart overflowed with his feelings for the grey force user, who could sense every ounce of it. When they parted Kenaas had to wipe away tears that had finally spilled.

"My goodness- you're so emotional and-" he chuckled happily "I never thought anyone would feel so strongly for me" he continued to try and wipe away the waterworks "I'm a mess"

Noiren could feel himself calm down fully now. Everything was out in the open. He hugged Kenaas close and buried his face in his neck. "Most beautiful mess I've ever seen" he sighed. "Would it be appropriate for me to sleep here tonight?"

A hand gently stroked his lekku "please, make yourself comfortable" the other insisted. Once they fully parted, the pair got comfortable in Kenaas's bed. For the first time since his childhood Noiren felt at peace as he clung to Kenaas and drifted off into a blissful sleep.

#mox's ocs #my ocs #my art #mox's art #mox writes #oc: noiren #oc: kenaas #oc: aidesan #nautolan #twi'lek #sith warrior/jedi counselor #swtor ocs #alcohol tw #drinking tw #this one turned out cute im very excited to finally post it #that arts a little old but thats okay

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dorkzilla-exe · 4 years

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Zim, Dib, and Seven Smeets

A ZaDr series: Ep 1, Hatching Day

Dib: Zim, will you come down.

Zim: *sitting on top of the fridge* DO NOT DISTURB ME WHILE I'M IN MY PANIC SPOT!

Dib: Im just-

Zim: *crying* DIBBERSON, JUST LEAVE ME ALONE, I'LL BE DOWN IN A MINUTE!

Dib: you said that an hour ago, I've got everything set up for the celebration, so at least be down before 3, ok?

Zim: wait, you did the decorating? You did EVERYTHING?! ON YOUR OWN?!

Dib: *smiles sinisterly* yes, yes I did, all on my own, probably made some mistakes in color arrangement-

Zim: LET ME SEE! YOU BETTER NOT HAVE MESSED ANYTHING UP!! *jumps down from the fridge and scurries into the living room*

Dib: works every time...

Zim: Dib, you didn't actually mess any of the decorations!?

Dib: I studied hard when you were decorating for Gaz's birthday, so I applied your decoration tactics to this room and... well... ta-daa!

Zim: you really are amazing, Dib. You know that, right?

Dib: I got the hint the day you gave me a ring-pop and asked for my hand in marriage.

Zim: I swear I didn't know it was candy, the person who sold it to me said it was worth 5,000$ and would sell it to me for 4,900...

Dib: I really didn't care about being proposed to with a candy ring, a ring is a ring to me, wether it's candy or not. Although, it is very concerning how someone managed to sell you a ring-pop for that much.

Zim: don't remind me...

Dib: would you believe me when I say I still have it?

Zim: no, I actually wouldn't.

Dib: well I do, I had it dipped in resin so it wouldn't deteriorate.

Zim: wow, how have I not noticed it?

Dib: remember that box I where keep stuff like pendants and pins? That's where the ring is.

Zim: that's sweet.

Dib: wait a minute, I just remembered we've got one more thing to do...

Zim: The Smeet's play-pen! We've gotta decorate that! Get the streamers! I've got some decorating to do!

[About an hour later]

Dib: alright, living room decorated, snacks and cake ready, little gift bags customized for every guest, flowers and other table decorations, and Zim's in the play-pen with the eggs. We are ready for the guests to arrive and it isn't even-

[Knocking from the front door]

Dib: right on cue, must be dad cause he's been early to ever other party. *answers the door* hey- uh...

Tallest Red: hello there, you must be Dib

Tallest Purple: How has Zim been? We haven't heard too much from him since he layed the eggs.

Dib: uhhhh... Hi I'm Dib Membrane, Zim's husband. Zim's been doing wonderfully, aside from the random anxiety attacks and his weekends of depression. Please come in! We have plenty of Irken friendly food and drinks ready, but remember to save some for the other guests. You two apparently aren't the only alien guests on our list.

Tallest Red: Thank you Mr. Membrane, we appreciate your hospitality. *enters with Tallest Purple*

Zim: My Tallest! I didn't expect you to be here until 10 minutes later.

Tallest Purple: see, I told you we were too early!

Tallest Red: EUGH, we could've brought the little ones Paks...

Dib: actually, we already thought of that. My Dad works at Membrane labs and designed him "Membrane Paks". They are designed to make it easier for them to identify us in a crowd, immediately begin healing if injured, ward off any diseases and illnesses, higher pain tolerance, and give them a longer life.

Zim: the only major differences are the Designs and application process. Instead of implanting electonics in abruptly, we will apply them more delicately, carefully and less painfully.

Tallest Red: hmm, I see, it would also be much easier to identify them if they ever decided to work for the Irken Empire.

Zim: i mean, you're not wrong. But I also invited here to ask for permission to retire.

Tallest Purple: retire?

Tallest Red: eumm... sure? Why not?

[1 hour later]

Dib: Dad, Gaz, the tallest, Skoodge, Tak, Tenn, Keef, Z, Zita, Clembrane, Prisinor 777 and his kids.

Dib: that seems to be about everyone, all we're missing are-

Anne: *annoyingly beating on Dib's Door* DIBDIBDIBDIBDIBDIBDIBDIBDIB!

Dib: Anne and Flish...

Dib: *opens the door, making Anne fall into the house*

Anne: Crikey, you've grown! You're 'bout as tall as Flishey now!

Flish: howdy, Dib. Sorry we couldn't make it to yer wedding last year.

Dib: it's ok, come on in you two.

Tallest Purple: oh yeah... we banished HER here too...

Tallest Red: I feel like Zim isn't our biggest concern anymore.

Anne: My Tallest! It's been YEARS! how've ya been!

Tallest Purple: good~

Anne: *gasp* OH MY GOSH! The eggs! Aw, they're absolutely precious! Zim, you oughta call yourself lucky! 'Lotta Irkens can't lay eggs y'know.

Zim: eheh, I know. Which is why I didn't fully expect it.

Dib: you should've seen him, he cried his eyes out the whole time and more.

Flish: Heha! sounds like Zim a'right. But don'cha get all concerned and stuff. It's completely normal to cry during egg laying. Er, from what I've heard at least.

Dib: it's official, everyone's here.

Tallest Purple: great!... Now what?

Dib: Um, we talk.

Tallest Purple: sounds boring.

Gaz: I have Videogames.

Tallest Purple: Ooo, sounds intriguing! What do you do?

Professor Membrane: son, may I speak with you for a moment?

Dib: sure.

Professor Membrane: let's go into the other room, ok.

Dib: *nods and walks into the bedroom*

Professor Membrane: something is wrong and I can tell.

Dib: *walks over to the bad, grabs a pillow, and screams in it*

Professor Membrane: I know your stressed, but everything will be just fine. I'm sure you and Zim will be great-

Dib: But what if we arent?! I work weekends at a coffee shop and Zim works at a clothing store in a mall. We can't provide for SEVEN babies! It took a lot of saving to get this party set up! I rarely get any tips and the one tip I got last weekend was from Gaz and it was a penny.

Professor Membrane: Ok, now that's just sad.

Dib: I don't know what to do! It's hard for me to get a different job, a barista was the closest I could do because I apparently make really good lattes. *sob*

Professor Membrane: have you ever considered working with me in the labs? You already know everyone there and know the place well. Plus, I could adjust your schedule so you don't have to come every day and you get paid just for being there.

Dib: you'd do that for me?

Professor Membrane: of course! You really do need the money, I could have you work as a lab assistant, but that's a little dangerous. I could put you in the mailing room? Or-

Dib: what about food service? I can cook, I can make coffee, tea, and plenty of different desserts.

Professor Membrane: that's a wonderful idea! I could make you work down at the cafeteria so your talent isn't wasted on Lattes!

Dib: Consider me hired! Ill be there tomorrow evening-

Professor Membrane: no no, you should stay home for a few days.

Dib: but dad, I-

Professor Membrane: Dibberson, I know you want to help out as soon as you can, but right now, Zim and your children need you here. Besides, it's hard to bond with a child while you're away, right?

Dib: I guess it is.

Anne: *Bursts through the door* Dib! It's about to happen! One of the eggs moved!

Dib: bwha?! Already?! I didn't think it would be this early! *runs to the living room*

Zim: Dib! There you are! Hurry over here, you don't want to miss this!

Dib: *looks over the pen* which one moved?

Zim: This one right here. *puts egg in lap*

Dib: When will they-

Zim: any moment now...

Dib: *puts hand on egg, feeling for any movement*

Zim: Dib, can I admit something before they hatch?

Dib: go ahead.

Zim: I knew about the eggs since the first day they began developing.

Dib: wanna know something? The 4 months before I helped you with the eggs, I was suspicious that you might've been pregnant. I was kinda right.

Zim: yes, yes you were. AH! DIB, IT'S HATCHING!

Dib: *removes hand, watching both the eggs hatch and his family grow before his eyes*

Zim: thank you, Dib

Dib: hm?

Zim: thank you for everything. I'll love you forever and on.

Dib: *pure panic* wait, you dont die after the eggs hatch, do you?

Zim: No, no I don't, but I'll love you longer than you'll ever know. And that's a promise.

From then and on, Zib and Dib lived a happy and eventful life with 7 beautiful Human-Irken Smeets.

The End

Zim: Or is it?

Dib: Not really, but for now, yes.

#invader zim #iz #zadr #zim #dib #dib membrane #gaz #gaz membrane #professor membrane #tallest red #tallest purple #the tallest #clembrane #keef #tak #skoodge #iz ocs #invader zim ocs #smeets

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leelee10898 · 6 years

Text

A closer look: Alicia & Maxwell

This is from the cgw universe(Cordonians gone wild) a collaborative effort by @ao719 @speedyoperarascalparty @cocomaxley @riseandshinelittleblossom and myself. Catch up on our other crazy adventures here

We asked, you picked. Here is a closer look at Alicia and Maxwells friendship.

Alicia stood in front of the massive Christmas tree in the foyer of the Palace surrounded by their friends. This was the first Christmas with the new king and Queen and with that came new traditions. Since deciding to stay in Cordonia, Anitah thought it would be a good idea for Alicia to get involved in a charity. Although no title, the buzz about the woman who did the unthinkable, and got the playboy prince to commit drew a lot of attention. Alicia chose helpful hearts, an organization that helped families who struggled financially. Speaking to Anitah and liam she got permission to use the grand entryway tree as an angel tree. Liam and anitah hosted a Charity ball in honor of the organization and as also have each family in attendance chose a child from the tree, and provide presents.

“This was a huge success love.” She grinned as she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her. “I know, it's so great we have raised a lot of money. Did you pick a child from the tree?” she turned facing him. “I did. I almost had to fight lord Davis for one, he picked 6.” “Well, I'm glad people are embracing this. There will be a lot of happy children on Christmas morning.” Leo placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Speaking of Christmas gifts. You still have not given me any ideas my prince.”

Leo shook his head “That's because I've got all I need in my arms. As long as you're mine, that's all I need.” “Leo, im serious.” He smirked as he walked over to speak with Regina.

“This is so awesome Alicia. I am excited to buy presents for these kids.” Maxwell grinned holding a handful of papers. “Maxwell, how many families did you pick?” Maxwell pursed his lips “ahhh 8.” He silently counted the slips in his hand. “Yup, 8.”

“Maxwell, that is just. Please don't ever change ok.” She pulled him into a hug. “Oh, thank you Alicia. I won't, don't worry.” She sank down into a nearby chair, letting out a sigh. “Whats wrong?” he asked. “It's just, Its Leo.” she sighed. “leo? What's wrong with Leo? I thought you guys were doing really good.” He sat, concerned. “Oh, we are. It's just. It's Christmas, our first Christmas together. It's Also six months since we made things official. He is so amazing, and I just want to get him something really nice.” Maxwell grinned “oh. Your six monthaversary? That's awesome. Hey, how about if we go shopping together. We can shop for the kids, and i can help you find the perfect present for leo.” Alicia perked up “really Max? You would help me?” “Of course, Leo is my best bud.” “Oh thank you so much Maxwell, I can't wait.” She threw her arms around him squeezing him tight. “It's going to be so much fun. It will also give us some time to get to know each other more.”

A few days later. The tinted SUV pulled up in front of the Ramsford estate. A ginning Maxwell came running out. “oooh I can't wait.” he squealed making Alicia giggle. “So I have narrowed it down to a few ideas. Do you think you could store a puppy for me until Christmas? Bertrand wont let me bring any more animals into the house.” He pouted. “oh, ah. I think they are looking for um, presents that are not alive. Maybe a stuffed dog instead?” Maxwell made an o shape with his mouth “Good call. Ok then a huge stuffed dog then.” Alicia shook her head and smiled.

They pulled up to the mall and walked in. “So what do you think Leo would like?” Alicia asked Maxwell, who's eyes immediately found the toy store. “A motorcycle.” He grinned. “He has 5. And I don't have motorcycle money.” she chuckled. “Well, i'm sure we will find something. Can't we, um.” Maxwells eyes kept darting towards the toy store. “Lets go.” she motioned towards the store. “ok, one little girl wants a Tiffany doll. But they are sold out everywhere.” Maxwell pouted. “well it doesn't hurt to look or ask.” Alicia walked up to a sale associate “Excuse me miss, I know this may be a long shot but do you happen to have any Tiffany dolls in stock?” The cashier sighed “we haven't been able to keep them in stock, but, we did just get a shipment in. Can you check back in about 2 hours? They are unloading the truck as we speak.” Alicia nodded and they left.

They headed into a leather store “Do you think Leo would like a new Leather Jacket? He always wears the same brown one.” Alicia asked. “Maybe, but what about these?” Maxwell held up a pair of leather riding gloves. “Oh those are nice, they even customize them. I could have LJR put on them. ” Alicia admired the gloves. “Done, i'll handle the forms, you go look and see if anything else catches your eye.” Maxwell waved her off.

The next store they went into was a novelty store. Maxwell held up a blow up doll “Maybe he would like one of these, this one looks like you. He could snuggle it whenever you arent home. Or is it a pool float?” Alicia's eyes went wide. “Ahh max, i um, that's not. You know what, were just gonna put that back.” He shrugged walking away. As Alicia browsed she noticed Maxwell pulling out his phone, smiling at the screen and then shoving it back into his pocket. Maxwell put a few things into her basket, insisting Leo would love them. They checked out, and again Maxwell was on his phone Texting.

They walked around the mall stopping at a few kiosk in the center. “Leo is lucky to have you, he seems like the perfect guy.” Maxwell grinned. “He is great. But he has flaws too Max. We all do.” “Maverick? No way, I don't believe it. Like what then.”

Alicia shook her head “Trust me, he does. Like hes a stress farter.” Maxwell stopped immediately “A what?” “He farts, when He's stressed out. The only thing that helps it is Sex.” Maxwell's eyes went wide. “No way!” “I swear to god. He has such a high sex drive as it is, why do you think we have so much sex?” Alicia giggled. “I just thought you two couldn't keep your hands off each other.”He shrugged. “Well we can't but, that's one of the reasons. God please don't tell anyone, he would kill me.” maxwell held up his hand “Beaumont promise.”

“so why do you call him Maverick?” they continued walking. “Oh um. When we were younger Leo and Bertrand were really into top gun. They let Liam and i watch it with them once. And Maverick was so cool with his leather Jacket and aviators. Just like Leo. So that's what I started calling him.”

“wait a minute, are you saying Leo wore a leather jacket even back then?” Maxwell shook his head “Yup. Leo was the definition of cool. Everyone wanted to be him, and all the girls wanted him. And even with the attention and popularity he always made time for me. He was like the cool older brother Bertrand never was.” “Awe Max. That is so sweet, and so cheesy. Now I know why Leo has such a big head.” she laughed. Maxwell pulled out his phone again, typing and smiling before putting it back.

They sat down to get some lunch in the food court. “This is great. Bertrand never lets me eat food court food. I love cheese burgers and fries.” He said with a smile. “Maxwell, who have you been texting?” She eyed him as he typed again. “Oh um. Well.” he rubbed the back of his neck. “You remember Drakes cousin Stephanie?” Alicia nodded “The cute little redhead that you couldn't take your eyes off of all night?” she grinned. “Yeah, well we um, we have been talking for a while.” he took a huge bite out of his burger. “oh, that is so cute Maxwell. So, you like her?” she pushed. “Yeah, she's great. But she's in Texas, and well i'm here.” He frowned. “Do you think she likes you too?” maxwell contemplated her words for a minute “yeah.. i think so. But, like I Said, the distance thing.” Alicia flashed him a smirk “if its love, it'll find a way.” Maxwell grinned “You know, you can tell you and Leo are together.”

“Why do you say that?” “Because you just gave me the same smirk he gives.” Alicia's hand slapped her forehead shit.

It was finally time to head back to the toy store. They walked in finding the same clerk they spoke to earlier. “Oh thank god, I was able to hold one, but they didn't last a minute.” she held up the box. Suddenly a woman came from out of nowhere snatching the doll from the clerks hands. “Thanks.” she grinned beginning to walk away. “HEY.” Maxwell hollerd, the woman rolled her eyes. “No the fuck she didn't. Maxwell, wait here.” Alicia took off towards the woman. “Excuse me.” She called out trying to get the woman's attention “EXCUSE ME.” the woman turned around. “That doll is my friends.” the woman rolled her eyes again. “Well, i'm the one who has it, so looks like its mine.” she smirked. “Yes because you snatched it out of the the clerks hands, now I'd like the back please.”

“You snooze you lose, im keeping it.” The woman turned around to leave, Alicia grabbed her arm “Maybe you didn't hear me the first time, give me the doll back.”

“I heard you, I'm not giving it to you. Get your hand off me you trashy bitch.” Alicia's eyes went wide. “Oh no you didn't. I tried to be nice, I tried to do this the civil way but..” Alicia started taking off her earrings. “Look here bitch, you got 2 options. 1, you give me the doll back and be on your way. Or 2, I whoop your fucking ass and take the doll back. Your choice.” she jumped shaking her head and arms. “Think fast, because where i'm from we don't give much time to think”

The woman stammered “I'll call security.”

“Go ahead, I promise you nothing will happen to me. But I'll still enjoy beating your ass.”

“wait a minute, you're. You're that American, the one Prince Leo is dating.”

“You know, you can never really be sure. Tick tock lady.”

“You're crazy. Here, take it.” She tossed the doll at Alicia and hurried out of the store.

Alicia returned to Maxwell and handed him the doll. “That was, awesome Tiger Lily.”

“Tiger lily?”

“Yeah, I like flowers. Your feisty so, its fitting.”

Alicia shrugged her shoulders “Sounds good to me. Now let's get these presents for the kids.”

Maxwell and Alicia made their way back to the leather store to pick up the gloves. Alicia ran to get them smoothies while maxwell ran in to get the gloves. He approached Alicia a large grin on his face. “they turn out good?” she asked taking a seat on the bench. Maxwell nodded his head “Yup, take a look.” He opened the box, Alicia's eyes went wide, she spilt her drink out and coughed. “Ma. Maxwell. Why. Why do they say Big Daddy on them? I told you to put Leos initials.” she wiped her mouth. “I thought this would be nicer, I heard you call him that a few times.” her face reddened at the realization Maxwell had definitely heard them having sex a time or two. “Oh god. Um thanks Maxwell, im ah, sure Leos going to get a kick out of these.”

After dropping Maxwell off Alicia returned to the Palace. She entered her and Leos Quarters and attempted to hide his presents. She left the bags for the adopt a family on the bed. “Hey baby, how was shopping with Max today?” “Oh it was, eventful, but fun.” She stuffed the last bag into the closet. “This all the stuff for the kids.” Leo began looking in the bags. “Ah yup, I just need to take it with me tomorrow.”

“What's this?” Leo picked up a box that was under one of the bags. “The leather shop?” he started to open the box “no leo don't.” She dove for the box but it was to late. “Oh, leather riding gloves these are Ni-” He stopped mid sentence, that sly smirk spread across his face. “Big daddy?” Alicia's face reddened “I told Maxwell to have them put your initials, but um, he thought my nickname for you was a nice touch.” “But that's not your nickname for, oooooh.” the realization set in Leo started to chuckle “Apparently we are um, a bit loud when we have sex.” Alicia giggled.

A few days later Alicia, Anitah and Genevieve met up for lunch. Pam had plans extra appointments, so she said she would see them later at her house. “How was shopping with Maxwell?” Genevieve asked. “oh it was good, lots of fun.” Alicia picked up a breadstick. “oh she had fun alright. She almost got into a rumble with some lady over a doll.” Anitah giggled. “A fight? Oh I wish I was there.” Gen grinned. “It was for the children.” she tossed the breadstick at Anitah. “Maxwell is a really sweet, kind and caring guy. Anitah you know first hand how above and beyond he goes for his friends.” Anitah nodded in agreement. “I learned that our Maxwell has a crush. And I have an idea.” The girls both grinned and scooted forward. “Ok, how about…."

Read what the squad did for Maxwell HERE

Tags: @greyeyedsmile14 @mind-reader1 @hopefulmoonobject @alicars @bella-ca @blznbaby @blackwidow2721 @simsvetements @furiousherringoperatortoad @choicesfannatalie @crookedslimecreatorpasta @coldcollectornight08 @museofbooks @syltti78 @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @gardeningourmet

@annekebbphotography @carabeth @moneyfordiamonds @give-me-ernest-sinclaire @3pawandme @indiacater @ooo-barff-ooo @ownworldresident @tornbetween2loves @perfectprofessorherokid @stopforamoment @editboutique @wannabemc2 @zaffrenotes @enmchoices @lauradowning29 @lodberg @smalltalk88 @gibbles82 @heatherfilliez @nikkis1983 @sweetest-marbear @classylady1234 @daniv2278 @jared2612 @liamxs-world @notoriouscs @blubutterflyy @captain-kingliamsqueen @drakesensworld

#cgw trr #cgw trr au #cgw squad #cordoniansgonewild #cordonians gone wild #alicia rhys #leo x alicia #stef x maxwell #maxwell beaumont #trr maxwell #leo trr #trr fanfic #choices trr #trr

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aintnouseofpretending · 6 years

Text

But My Love, This Cannot Be pt. 1

Mr M (Brian May) x Tomboy!Reader x Mr R (Roger Taylor) Time Travelling reader AU imagine

>>The continuation of Many Years Away. I strongly encourage new readers to read the previous Imagine and fully immerse yourself first before continuing because the story is escalating. Also, yes, this is a two-parter as I got too carried away explaining some details ._.

Tagging peeps that want the continuation~; @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark @tini-monster

ENJOY!

Small recap; you’re a college student from twenty thirty-nine. Worked in a guitar store and as a session musician in a big recording studio near your flat. You have an odd dream of being in nineteen seventy-three and becomes May and Deacon’s best friend, which are your guitar heroes from the legendary rock band, Queen. But when you wake up, you actually have to work with Brian May. After showing your guitar and bass skills to him, he says; “Perfect. Sounds just like yesterday…”

Your days were never been more perfect than today. “Thank you, sir. You’re a very big influence on my entire career.”

“Just call me, May. We’re going to work together again anyway.”

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I respect you too much to just call you like an old friend, sir.” You say, purposely ignoring the last bit of his sentence. Although you have some suspicion,

“But we are.”

“Whatever do you mean—?”

“Were you not to told me you’re from twenty thirty-nine, how would I be here? Specifically picking you? Let alone wrote ‘39? You even play, dress, and worked as a session musician, exactly like that day. It’s already impossible to forget, now it feels like we’re still in that awful studio, taping, the way you cannot seems to stop calling it. Annoyed Rog so much he throws his sticks at you. How many times was it?”

“… May?”

“You’ve missed many of our plays. John misses you, y/n. And so am I. Much more than you can imagine.”

Both of you catching up right after you got the chance to talk in private. At first, May cannot stop telling you how much he missed you, how much he cannot believe when the producer recommended you as a backup, the fact that you are indeed a time traveller. He’s trying his best to fulfil your last wish before you disintegrated; to be happy and live his life. “And to always remember you,”

You still don’t believe it, neither did he. But what for you was in a blink of an eye, for him it was almost sixty-five years. Whilst you wonder why are you time travelling, do the others know? How is Deacon? You can’t help but notice that May has been fidgeting, and when you mentioned Deacon or Taylor or Mercury, he looks a bit displeased, but he answered anyway,

“To stop the questions on your whereabouts, I simply told them that you might be too caught up in family issues and cannot come back.” At first, they’re looking for you whenever they got the time; especially Deacon, to the point that it depresses him greatly. Deacon doesn’t know you’re actually no longer existed, but May does, and it destroys him daily. Eventually, they accepted that they’re forever lost contact with you,

But things still don’t add up. How do you do that? To time travel? “You should know better than I do, May. You’re an actual scientist. Even in sixty-five years, it shouldn’t be possible to time travel yet, undoubtedly?” You wondered after both of you finally get the chance to talk again post-recording. “That’s a good question,”

He promises that the two of you will meet again to discuss it, for, unfortunately, his schedule was full this month. He said that he has dinner with his family, a birthday party; much it is to break your heart alone that you remember, he has a wife, kids, and grandkids. “Understood. Be careful on your way home, May. I will be right here,”

You pondered; do May still see you the same way? Surely he has moved on from your departure. And just thinking about that fact makes you a bit sad, how you stuck in time all by your lonesome. Why does that have to happen to you? What is actually going on? What did you do? … It was the cassette. You remembered you are listening to it before you're asleep last week, and then woke up in nineteen seventy-three. That cassette also the reason why you're back here. You’re uncertain whether you should listen to it again, but you made sure to tell May about it,

You’re still not unsure how listening to the cassette could make you travel back and forth in time. You go back to the music store from where you bought it. The clerk says that a man sold it there for a cheap price and later on the same day you buy it. The clerk—an acquaintance of yours, only knows that the man is middle-aged and since haven’t been seen. He can’t remember how the man looks, his memories are weirdly blurred when that happens. “Maybe I was hungover still. Don't tell my manager,”

After recording the next month, May inspects the cassette. He remembered that cassette, it’s Queen’s debut album after all, and one of the first few copies. He’s still quite happy when you come to him and ask him to be the first one to sign your copy. Although you never told him that Taylor was actually the one received the honour, but the bastard returns it to the sender with a note; only going sign it after you introduce him to this pretty bombshell that works in the same music store with you—the gal that already has a girlfriend. He ended up signing it from the peer-pressure given by his bandmates six months later,

“The process was unbelievably slow and painful. The hallucination becomes very vivid to the point that I might’ve been just in two different worlds at once, but stuck in the middle,” you explained. “I’m afraid I will be time travelling again if I listened to it.” “It looks like a normal cassette,” May noted, “although I haven’t seen that many cassettes for a long time. Highly probable that there’s difference cannot be seen with naked eyes,”

“Perhaps I should try and listen to it?” You suggested, “you can see how it works on me.” At first, he’s pretty much against it due to safety. But you reason that the process most likely won't escalate if you didn't tell him about it, someone that's correlated directly with the cassette You wish to gain as many information as possible to help the research later. Also to further prove that you are indeed could time travel. “My first priority will be getting this cassette to travel back here. Make it as short of a trip as possible,”

“Is that all?” He asks, but you only shrug. “Yes. I shan’t try to change things. Instead, I'll collect photographs, tapes, and some other legit proves about my existence in that year that you—or someone—could keep until exactly today. Look for more clues and blends in. Maybe there's more to this cassette when I first bought it in the seventies.” “Why?” “Because we should stop and hide this time travelling business that could potentially harm many people,"

“No. Why don’t you want to change things?”

“Why, May, I don’t belong in seven-thirties, I belong today. Before this trainwreck happens, my life is just a store clerk and a musician and a college student. Idolizing and to be like you. But you shouldn’t know about me at all; we’ve never met.”

“Yes, that’s how it is, before. But now that you have the power to change the history, why don’t you change it?”

“Why should I? What if that’s the cause in the first place? That someone has done it before and sold the cassette to forget about it, and now it happens to me? Besides, I am content with what I am today.”

“Surely?” He pleaded. That’s when you realised what he meant. There might be a huge doubt in your heart, but you have made up your mind. You know there’s no use to lie in front of the smart May, still, you did, and explained that you have no right to change things, whatever causes you to have such power. He respects your decision in the end. “What matters right now is finding how this works. We can stress about that later.” You closed the discussion,

Back to the cassette, you bought your priced vintage portable cassette player. You put on the headphone, waiting for May as he prepares the papers and pen, and making sure the camera is recording; so he can see and deduce how it works based on your reactions later. Unfortunately, by the time the music start, you passed out in an instant. When you are awake, however, you feel incredibly dizzy,

You don't remember what you've been dreaming, but it's something very real… Of someone. You promised someone that you'll buy… Something to go back? To buy them something? It's about music—perhaps a record? A cassette… It was a cassette! But for whom? And what cassette? You promised someone that you'll buy them a cassette—oh! Now you remember! You're supposed to bring your demo cassette to the new recording studio so that you can be a permanent session musician with Jordan!

You saw the clock on the wall and realised you're awfully late already! You quickly change your clothes and ran to the new recording studio. You're in so much hurry that you flung yourself out of the way of someone that's coming in your direction; nearly breaks your cassettes but magnificently hurt your own arse in the process—at least you didn't hurt whomever passerby you almost shouldered out the Earth,

“I'm so sorry! I didn't see there was someone around the corner!” A man profusely apologizing as he reached down and help gather your belongings. “Not to worry! I will be the one beaten by my boss! Have a good day, sir!” You told him whilst you put everything as fast as you can in your arm, although you can't help but notice that the man is a bit striking with his kinky brunette hair and a tall, skinny body. A familiar sight, you have to say, though you have no time to confirm it and simply continue running past his blonde girlfriend,

No matter whether the band wasn't ever here yet or to witness his glorious cracking voice, the producer took the liberty to be as loud and as merciless as he could when he yelled at you. He even pointed at your cracked cassette as you, apparently, left the good copy by the road; a disgraceful sign of the shit he and Jukebox—the band—has to listen to today. “You're lucky Jordan recommended you, or I might fire you on the spot,”

You try your best to hide the smug smile you had when Jukebox is visibly impressed by your skills, completely ignored the producer biased opinions. Despite witnessing your win, you're not ringed on the day where Jukebox supposedly taping. “Yeah. But you don't have to come. In the end, I didn’t do anything.” Jordan answered after you ask if he was ringed. That's odd. Not being ringed today… Weirdly doesn't feel right. As if you're supposed to get ringed in as a backup even though you're not doing anything. You later simply shrug it off, thinking maybe you're still quite upset the producer is so against you,

But it doesn't end there; once you did get ringed, you feel that odd tug again in the bottom of your heart. Relieved as though this indeed supposed to happen, that things are going back on track. When you've arrived, however, new curious thing hits you like a truck and tops every gut feelings you've felt these past weeks—you saw that tall man with the kinky hair again, in the studio, with his blonde girlfriend… Wait, the blue-eyed gal is a man! He's the drummer,

“They're the new band that had been using the studio past the taping schedule,” Jordan explained. “Name is Queen.” That's it! When you heard that name, you don't know why you instantly recognize them; vocalist Freddie Mercury, bassist John Deacon, drummer Roger Taylor, and… Guitarist Brian May. “You might've heard of them when we're out hanging in the clubs.” Oh, alright. Now that makes sense, but still, that fact doesn't satisfy you, there's supposed to be more to it, but again, you didn't bother…

In your mind you thought; “Alright, what the fuck is going on? Why did I have been feeling endless déjà vu since this morning?”. That reaction immediately sparked after you play both your guitar and bass since Dorian—Jukebox’s guitarist—broken his fingers from partying too hard, and the fact that Loui—the vocalist, told you to just straight up play the bass as well since you’re obviously skilled enough. And then come May and Taylor forward; they practically approach you straight up to comment on your skills after Jukebox taping is over,

That feeling like things doesn’t go right now is much clearer for you to identify; the fact that you expect May and another Queen member to came to you, but Taylor isn’t supposed to be the other one. Or that Taylor is the one that gives comment and praises your skills instead of May. Rather, May only apologizes about the previous incident and mostly listens to your answer for Taylor’s barrage of questions,

“We would like for you to watch us taping,” May insisted, desperately. “You should watch them taping, yes. They’re good.” Jordan agrees. “If the three of you said that word again, I will deck all of ya’,” shouted Taylor from behind his drum set. “What? Taping?” You received two sticks directly at your shoulder; thrown at full speed. Whilst Jordan and Deacon scolded Taylor for being rude to a woman—Taylor thought you were a guy with “uniquely progressive” fashion choice up until that point. Instead of anger, you, Taylor, and May laugh. There’s this familiar humour that tingles you and made you question why you find it funny instead of rude?

You try your best to convince yourself that you are indeed, perhaps, watched them play on a stage in one of the college gigs you attended or in any music clubs. But no. Their play is far too familiar—in a sense that as if you've been stalking them since the day they made Queen. The fact that you’re supposed to listen to them the day you’re not ringed when Jordan does makes you very upset—again for no reason; as to why you know you should have listened to them already despite finding them as familiar as the palm of your left hand, and for the fact that you think things have been nothing but a line of wrongness,

“Yeah, I really can’t. This is the third Saturday of the month, I have dinner with grandma.” You told the musicians when Jordan and May ask you to have dinner with them at the nearest pub. Jordan immediately put you into his hug that at first surprised you, but then he said; “Mate, your grandma’s been dead for two years. Let go.” “What the bloody hell are you—she’s alive!” Then it hits you. What he’s saying is right, you even remembered crying your eyes out as he hugs your shoulder. You think; “No. This is far too wrong. Something isn’t right. My mind and memory are fucking me up.”

“You’re right. Maybe that’s why I need to go home.” You resigned weakly, “have fun boys. You will be taping again tomorrow, correct? I will come and see if you don’t mind.” You could hear a subtle worried whisper asking “Is she alright?” which you presumed came from May,

Once you’ve locked the door, you quickly discard your coat away and sat on the cold floor. You try to think so very hard about the madness you’ve been through, that your stomach is swirling by itself trying to tell you what is right what is wrong without further made clear where it steers you to. Then you grab a pen and crumpled paper, write down the right-wrong things your own body trying to tell you; One, when you bumped with May and you felt like he’s your old middle school friend that lost contact with you. Two, you know that even Jordan doesn’t do anything when ringed in, but the fact you’re not even ringed upsets you greatly. Three, when you’re finally ringed; it feels so right. Four, the fact that there’s Queen and you feels like you’ve known them since their first debut gig. Five, that May and Taylor came to you and complimented your skills. And Six, your grandma. Your heart and gut declared that she’s indeed still alive, but your brain emotionlessly tells you that you attended her funeral shitfaced and simply still can’t get over it in two years straight,

After listing all of them and that particularly peculiar day ends, you decided that if you feel it again, you will investigate it further. One more to the list; Seven, the cassette. The cassette your brain trying to remember was not your demo cassette, it was something else—precisely about buying it, but for whom you still have no clue,

Since the day you met Queen, you have been watching and aid them taping. The weird feeling is gone, and you’re very grateful. You, May, and Taylor quickly becoming a best friend; you don't know why you're best friend with Taylor, though. Taylor occasionally casually chipping in—mostly because he throws his sticks at you for you seems to cannot stop using the wrong term; plays for gigs, taping for recording, at this point you continue doing it because you know it pisses him off,

“You’re going back to the campus after this, y/n?” Ask Deacon, you nodded in response. “Why, aren’t you model student? Be cool, hang with us more. Maybe you can hook with one of us.” Mocked Taylor as he sits next to Deacon. You happen to have lunch with them since they’re finally back in London after their debut album tour. “I have to be a model student for myself. Thesis incoming. That’s why I can’t help you with your next album.” You explained, completely ignoring Taylor's suggestion. “Never crossed my mind to ask you about it, but what’s your major?” May inquired. “Astro—,” you scrunch your nose as you think, “music.” You answered, finally. There it is, the weird feeling is back,

“Bri was Astrophysics. Never knew there's another major, what? Astromusic? That sounds cool. And how come you forget about it?” Taylor jokes again. “Wait, so that means you can’t tag long for our next tour?” You shake your head, continue eating. “That’s very unfortunate,” May sighed deeply, you can only shrug. "Listen to our cassettes if you miss us, love. Don’t worry, I will miss ya.” He said with a wink. Your spoon stopped mid-way as you quickly look at Taylor that’s being smacked by May and Deacon for some reason,

“What? You’ve forgotten to hook me with the shag? Don’t you want me to sign your cassette? Or you instead want to hook with me?” Your eyes widened as you dropped your spoon, which causes a confused reaction from the boys. “What cassette?” You queried, now this makes both Taylor and May shows expression of a sudden realization for something. “Didn’t you… Didn’t I say I will sign your copy of our debut cassette once you introduce me with the gal from your music store?”

“What are you talking about? I haven’t buy your debut cassette, I’m busy helping Jukebox and jamming with Jordan.” “Hold on. Wasn’t I the first one to sign it?” May adds, but just as unsure. “No?” “Bri was right! I saw him signed it with John!” Taylor nudges Deacon. The man was completely lost as to what happened with the three of you. “Y/n never come to me to sign anything.” “Exactly—,”

It’s like getting your head hit with a giant dictionary book, you finally remembered! Both your mouth and eyes were as wide as they can be. You are indeed from the future and—, “fucking shit! I forgot completely!” You screamed and jump from the chair, ran outside and to the store where you’re supposed to buy the cassette. It was almost on the other side of the city, but you’re glad you brought your bike with you,

“Have—,” you cough like crazy before you could even talk, scaring the store clerk, which are your friend. The same exact friend that sold you the cassette in the future. “What on earth is happening to you?” “The Queen! Queen debut cassette! Have you sold any?” “No—?” You immediately go to the rack. It’s there, what you assume is the same one from your first run in the past. You immediately fall down the floor, trying to calm yourself whilst inspecting the cassette; it was exactly the one you bought on the first time you’re in the past, because it’s a wee bit misprinted by half a centimetre which bothers the hell out of you, but it’s already signed when you notice it,

“You got the cassette?” Someone squatted right next to you. “May? Wait, what?” The man only nodded, “you should pay for it. Let’s talk outside,”

“I should’ve taken a taxi like you. I feel like dying,” you’re still wheezing, glad the air is much better than it was in the future. “But how?” You questioned, May folded his hands on his chest and contemplate. “I’m not sure. Do you remember when you throw yourself into the pavement just to avoid bumping that night? I have felt since then that you looked familiar. I thought you were my old school mates I might’ve forgotten. But then I remembered things we’ve done on your first time in the past—the fact that Rog said exactly the same thing despite everything was completely different… Perhaps he is affected too? But the memories of after your first disintegration was… Much more blurry. Same with when before you’re disintegrated in front of my eyes in twenty thirty-nine. I think my brain thought it was false memories and simply decided they're not important,”

As interesting as they sound, unfortunately, you really can’t be bothered about that much, so you told him to write it down. Now your objectives are to get as many proofs as you can and May will keep them safe until twenty thirty-nine, and go back to the future. “I’m terribly sorry that you have to go through another sixty-five years whilst I can travel back and forth as if the year thirty-nine was in Wales.” “About that, uhh... Should we really hurry?”

“May. Don’t. I have made up my mind. It’s far too dangerous if this fall on someone else’s hand. God knows they have certain things in mind on how to use this.” He closed his eyes and nods, “thank you.” He catches your arm. “Why I’m back here too is perhaps because I listened to the cassette. It was a week after you’re gone, and you haven’t come back. I was worried and helpless. Please understand.” “Well, at least there’s a silver lining to it—that you don’t have to live another sixty-five years to got to thirty-nine! And I’m awfully glad that I know I’m no longer have to do this alone,”

Both you and May bought a Polaroid camera and cassette recorder. The two of you jams together and taped the session, take pictures with the band and Jordan and Jukebox. In your flat, as you put the “proofs” of your existence in 1973, you saw the pic of you with May, Freddie, and Taylor jamming, the one that Deacon took. Something inside of you crumbles. “What happened, y/n? Are you okay?” You didn’t notice you’ve shed tears and it falls on the picture. “No. Nothing happened,”

May sat next to you and grab your hand. You stared at his hazel eyes. “I will miss you and Taylor. I will miss everyone living in this year.” You whisper as you hug him. “You’re a dear friend of mine.” You tighten your hug, and he does the same. You let go and wipe your tears. Before May could say anything you both will regret, you cut him, “we will study this cassette. Promise me you will.” He reaches for your hand one last time, give it a quick squeeze before he stands up and sits somewhere else,

“Ready?” He asks. You nodded. Your eyes never leave his, same goes for him. You both took a deep breath when he clicked the play button...

To be continued...

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theskygivesmelife · 3 years

Text

"I am the master of my fate,"

How ironic that a poem about self control uses this very phrase, whilst ignoring the fact that fate, or destiny actually imply that there can never truly be any control, for all is predetermined from the beginning of time.

...

I'd say we don't. Nonexistence is a superior state of existence in my opinion.

...

First things first: you don't love me, so stop saying you do. Even if you genuinely believe you do, you'll understand what I mean.

With that said, for the love of God can you stop messaging me? Not on WhatsApp because I will have *deleted* it, and not on Android messages because I can't respond as I don't have any balance. I use my phone only for music or gaming mainly anyway. Speaking of which, I thought I did make it clear that I don't want to talk to you. When was the last time we did talk? Right, your birthday. I don't remember ever being that drained after talking to you. Honestly, it was a pain—was it for you too? I guess that's what happens as one becomes truly apathetic. Seriously, I don't know who you're still trying to contact, but that person's dead. Well, not literally unfortunately, but if you do want to talk to some tired, disillusioned soul I'm still here I guess. As I mentioned, your little I love yous at the end don't really hold, because, you know, you're really just refering to the wrong person. For the record, I've started to think that not only am I incapable of loving, but am also incapable of being loved.

Anyhow, lets just say that if I were Jekyll then I'm Hyde now. To be honest, I don't even know why I'm responding to you. The "fuck her, why give a damn?" voices have been quite loud for some time. Well, I don't think of you all the time, so "fuck the world" might seem more apt as a generalisation. Back to the point: some time ago I'd have actually cared, but I don't give a shit now about anything.

I'll say it now: I don't think it'll ever be a good enough reason for you. I don't think any reason ever will. You'll probably still try to convince me to maintain contact, even though it's so horribly one sided. Well, I just couldn't care less for the most part. It'd probably be good if you wouldn't waste your time on me though. I mean, let's be real. You're not going to get my number once out if this country. Even if you miraculously did, you'd certainly make some replacement friends in college without the downsides that I have, so it'd be pointless. I know you won't listen anyway, and I said that I don't care either. So why am I even trying? I don't know.

If you'll remember I've tried to shut you out multiple times. It's funny now, ~because I feel absolutely nothing now.~ Quite often in the past I'd feel quite regretful or guilty, but now? Heh, just an emotionless robot just moving along now. Going through the motions you know. Still, if there's one thing I should mention, it's that I never lied to you when I said some sentimental crap like caring about you and such. Whoever I was back then, he genuinely ment it. And now, it seems like my wick is shorter than I imagined. It's going to burn up quick. You know what that means? Garima, it means peace at last. So, let me have my time now. I still dream of that little cottage far away, secluded from society. No-one for company. Okay, a cat and a dog. They'll be nice. A drum kit. Video games maybe? What'll I do? Electrician perhaps? Mechanic? Just so long as it isn't a crappy 9-5 job, and actually pays my bills. No people. No friends—do I really have any? No girlfriend—I don't want one (not asexual, but I'm not as horny as you I guess), and I doubt I'm capable of forming a proper relationship anyway. No family—I never had one to begin with. Can you imagine it? All alone and blissful. Just let me be. Please. One way or another, I'm gone. I'm actually feeling sad now typing this, tears in my eyes and all (I haven't cried in forever) but you shouldn't be. You've got a long, long way to go; you'll do well anyway. I don't know what I really was to you, or what I've done to you. I know that I was a hard person to deal with. I can't really list out all the times I've failed you; I hope you will forgive me for them. Believe me when I say that if there was ever I person I really tried to keep happy as often as I could, it was you.

" *Bye, stay healthy and happy* "

I won't—I can't.

Bye.

PS. Nice songs. I still appreciate music I guess, unless it's a really bad day.

...

[8/18/2018, 12:03 AM] Prathik: It seems not. Oh well, I was hoping I could talk one last time. Silly of me; you're probably either sleeping or studying for tomorrow's — should I say today's? — test.

[8/18/2018, 12:57 AM] Prathik: You know, I've been thinking: what if I wanted to talk to you one day? Would you then be ready to hold conversation? I think you would, but that doesn't strike me as fair. I mean you say that you'll miss me, but that's something you'll just have to take in your stride. On the contrary, if I miss you, then I try contacting you, and in all likelihood you'll just respond. What do you think?

[8/18/2018, 1:44 AM] Prathik: Maybe you're free tonight? I just want to talk; I don't know what I'm even doing now. Ugh I can't even explain it without sounding like some self pitying shithead. Forget it. I'm sorry

[8/18/2018, 12:42 PM] Prathik: Seriously, the very dynamics of our interactions are messed up. Everything is based on my mood and how I'm feeling. Don't want to talk? No problem! I'll go silent. Depressive episode? No problem! I'll go silent. It's like I can literally choose what and when we get to converse. Tired of our conversations? No problem! I'll just stop talking to you. And all you say is that you'll miss me. Sure, it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, but bloody hell — why didn't you ever call me out for my behaviour? Gee, we screwed up...so many flaws and nothing was even done about them.

Yes, I'm ranting. I'll say stupid things, and maybe hurtful things too. If I were completely aware of what it is that sounded like that, then I wouldn't be saying them. Not that it's an excuse for saying anything I shouldn't. You probably shouldn't take anything personally, because in all likelihood, I'll probably just be projecting.

[8/18/2018, 12:52 PM] Prathik: Oh shit, I really need psychological help don't I? Do you think that if I got better, I'd finally stop sabotaging all the relationships I have?

[8/19/2018, 12:19 AM] Prathik: Goodbye

[8/19/2018, 2:25 PM] Prathik: Okay, I'll just leave this here. Just one last thing. I honestly am doubting my mental stability: I'd wager that I'm fairly unstable in general and more so at this point. My mood seems to swing like a fucking pendulum, and for whatever reason, I have and possibly might keep spouting unnecessary shit. So please, just *IGNORE EVERYTHING* I say. *EVERYTHING.* Except this one last message. Please. It's all I ask.

[8/19/2018, 2:54 PM] Prathik: I'm also not going to be using WhatsApp anymore — no point now right? — so I guess you'll be spared if having to reply to anything.

...

[8/8/2018, 10:24 PM] Prathik: Bloody hell, always nice to me even though I don't deserve it. Can't just go study like you ought to or talk to anyone else? You've got tons of friends after all. Perhaps one day they'll give you a consolation prize saying "good effort; hard luck" and maybe then you'll see how you're just wasting your time. Whatever. It's not like I can control you or force you to behave in a certain manner. Stupid world. Just leave me be

[8/8/2018, 10:52 PM] Prathik: I don't even know why you don't give in. I mean, what am I to you? Some depressed idiot that makes you feel better about yourself? I don't think that's the narrative you've sold to me, so that's probably not the reason.

It's kinda like you're an ant running against the wind. Not any wind, though, just that which is being blown by some sadistic little kid. It keeps running into it. Over and over it tries and fails. The wind keeps pushing it back, but the ant doesn't see how futile it's attempts are. It doesn't see that despite the fact that it keeps trying, nothing's going to change. It has so many other avenues of exploration, ones that would certainly lead to a great reception from the colony, but oh no. The ant keeps running, hoping that the resistance will decrease. Eventually the boy just blows harder, and the ant flies away and lands on its back. (Good thing it has an exoskeleton.) Only then does it see how pointless its efforts were, and that they were better off invested somewhere else.

...

You know how people throw that fucking annoying platitude around? That things will get better? Doesn't happen. It's no different in its progression from a physical illness, and once you go beyond a certain stage you're only living on fumes at that point. Limited time. But it'll get better they say. Fucking hell, it can also get worse, but who's willing to actually concede that bleak truth?

...

Yeah, maybe. I don't know. I'm just getting worse mentally. I mean, I set the suicide date for when I'm 25. It's only kept dropping. I started considering pushing it to college years, and now I'm genuinely pondering whether I should just drop out of college like when I'm 19 or so and be done with it — at least I won't have to wonder about how you'll come meet me in USA lol. I'm also drawing more blanks in tests. It's not like I don't know, it's just making me more and more anxious. Like the psychology UT we had just some time ago. I left 12 marks because it seemed to easy to be true and I thought I was wrong. I got 17.5 . And meeting people, ugh. Worse than ever. Sure I'm introverted, but at this rate I'm practically going to become a hermit. My ability to function like a sane person is waning, and it's actually quite clear. It's makes me awe struck and horrified at the same time seeing how someone is so capable of self sabotage. Yeah, I don't think I was made for this world. Just one big mistake that hasn't been taken care of yet.

...

Oh, if you haven't listened to it already, you really should listen to Heroes by David Bowie. Please do, if you haven't yet. Just this one song.

...

[6/28/2018, 12:13 AM] Prathik: I love you.

[6/28/2018, 12:14 AM] Prathik: ^ I just felt like saying that.

...

You don't get it. I don't know for sure that you like talking to me. Yes, you've said so so many times that I've lost track. I'd be lying if I said that it were enough to convince me. It isn't; you can't do anything to change my perception of myself, and sometimes I'll project, being the idiot I am after all. There's never going to be a time when I can the voice that says you're you're just using me for some kicks or something to shut up. That doubt will never go, and every time you say something like that, I'll make sure to interpret it as evidence that even you don't care, that you just let your guard down. You can't ever really make me satisfied or happy, so don't throw away any more of your time actually trying to justify anything. If you know that what you've done is fine, then it's fine.

...

[6/12/2018, 8:51 PM] Prathik: Speaking of which, it's interesting that you brought up the fact that our relationship is dysfunctional. Not that I really addressed it well when you originally meantioned it. It does make me wonder, are the dynamics of the way we interact with each other actually healthy? Perhaps we're just fucking each other in the ass and not even realising it? While it's a possibility that I consider, you should know that I don't think the second one is too probable. All the same, it's bothersome enough to actually consider pondering over. Funny, though, how I've just turned a blind eye to it; best relationship you've had you say. Pretty much the same for me, I suppose that's why I've not considered anything that suggests contrary to that opinion.

You know, we never did our cliched apologies. I'm not sure what exactly to apologise for; however, I don't have any qualms admitting that I did fuck up. I'm not sure it makes any sense to apologise for going silent for a month. Honestly, while I did miss you, I'm not sure of how much I actually regret it. Heck, if I hadn't misunderstood your message and not responded... Moreover, what's the point of saying sorry for something I've done multiple times and might do again anyway? It probably does defeat the purpose of it. I do regret making you angry though. I'm not too proud of getting you pissed off, I honestly am sorry about that. That conversation just didn't go the way I'd have liked it to I guess...

[6/12/2018, 8:53 PM] Prathik: Also, is it just me or have things between us changed? I mean, the one month silence probably did more harm than good. It'd have probably been better had I never done anything, or had not stupidly misinterpreted what you said and stayed silent after all. I don't know, I'm not saying it has anything to do with you anyway. I know who's responsible if something is wrong after all.

[6/12/2018, 10:04 PM] Prathik: Oh, today I mixed NaOH with NH4Br, boiled it and inhaled it. I also had to do some speaking for a group activity in English, and I didn't really fuck it up at all or get shaky knees

Just saying. Anyway, which Tapasya acquaintances are you still in touch with?

[6/12/2018, 10:42 PM] Prathik: Oh look, they just killed off net neutrality in USA. Fucking Ajit Pai. As if he didn't have an incredibly punchable face to begin with.

...

[6/10/2018, 10:05 AM] Prathik: If you say so. Read at your own inconvenience.

Since I'm idiotic enough, I decided to read more of the dude's articles. Lost a ton of brain cells. Also, don't read the comments. Nutty, the lot of them.

[6/10/2018, 11:00 AM] Prathik: "The power of propaganda always surprises me. Only 30 years ago, homosexuality was almost universally condemned, and now it’s accepted in half the world and half the States. Clearly, the natural position worldwide is that homosexuality is a disorder, and should be condemned. The problem is, we lost the youth. Somehow, homosexual advocates were able to brainwash and indoctrinate them into accepting it. If you talk to anyone my age, they believe that homosexuality poses no health risks (homosexuals have a 5 times higher chance of getting HIV) and that they are born as homosexuals (despite no scientific evidence.) IMO this is a result of two things: homosexual propaganda (esp. through the internet) and the collapse of the traditional marriage model. The parents simply haven’t taught their children about Christianity and thus they are easy prey for the homosexual movement.

Honestly, I am very pessimistic and I feel that it’s only going to get worse as time goes on. More and more ‘Christians’ are accepting this behavior day by day and it’s heartbreaking."

Has to be the most ironic things I've ever read. Talks about propaganda and indoctrination, but completely turns a blind eye to how he's become what he is.

[6/10/2018, 6:29 PM] Prathik: And now, I've realised that I could have actually spent my time better by talking to you on the phone as you suggested. Not that I studied one bit as I planned to do.

...

[6/9/2018, 1:56 AM] Garima Joshi: Bye now, love you.

[6/9/2018, 1:57 AM] Prathik: Bye. Love you.

...

if I could really recover from the depressed, socially anxious, and suicidal person I am today, believe me I'd let you know immediately. I promise.

...

[3/20/2018, 3:01 AM] Garima Joshi: I know you said you were tired. Thanks for sticking around. Always great talking to you.

[3/20/2018, 3:02 AM] Prathik: It's always fun talking to you. So.. yeah. Do we say goodnight or goodmorning at this point?

[3/20/2018, 3:03 AM] Prathik: Yeah. Stay safe in Delhi will you? Bye.

[3/20/2018, 3:04 AM] Garima Joshi: I'll try, I'll try.

Have a good day (today)

Bye, love you.

[3/20/2018, 3:06 AM] Prathik: I thought you said cheesy stuff were grossing you out...

I'm sorry, did I sound a little overprotective?

[3/20/2018, 3:13 AM] Garima Joshi: Okay Patrick I love you v much but I'll find you a wife tomorrow, for now you need those 2 hours 58 minutes of beauty sleep to rope in all those women

[3/20/2018, 3:13 AM] Prathik: Lulz. Fine. Love you too.

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