#a brown bear that was my grandfather's then my dad's and then mine!

[wheatfieldspoet]

grief, in doses

denial

i think we could have saved you.

anger

they said you hadn’t had an appetite for ten days. ten days. and they didn’t think to call, didn’t think that their pride and stubborn belief in conspiracy should be immaterial in this moment. they just let you sit in your chair and let you fade. i gritted my teeth through the revelation of this sorrowful mystery, biting back the urge to tell them they don’t deserve to cry. they let this happen. they can keep their fucking ivermectin, i want my Lola back.

bargaining

can we go back? please, i had no idea how short the time was. i’m not asking for much, only one more walk—you don’t even have to say anything. just let me lead you down the stairs, one hand on the rail and the other in mine; let me feel the shifting weight of your aliveness before you step foot into your black car. let me have one more embrace to breathe in the scent of your perfume. let me keep your lipstick stain on my cheek. let me say goodbye, but not before giving me the chance to plead for Him not to take you yet. not yet. i’d ask for not ever, but i know that’s impossible, so please—not yet.

depression

when the weight of remembering comes, all i can do is cry. but i’ll choose to overdose on memory any day, to carry everything with me because i’m afraid i’ll forget where i put them down. the color purple, violet, but also garnet. butterflies. poker chips. the queen of hearts. banana rebosado. chocolate cake. ube. durian. a tin can of crackers, a letter opener next to it. the sound of a grandfather clock. “bésame mucho” on the magicsing. rings with large stones that never fit my fingers right but you let me play with them anyway. your hands, always soft. an eyebrow pencil for that time you realized you filled only one brow in, but not until after we were walking around the mall, one of your arches brown and the other grayed. you were graceful in your embarrassment—even if you could never look less than beautiful. i laughed about this with mom recently, and we both burst into tears after the first ha.

anger

i’m ashamed to share a bloodline with some of the men in our family. they survived wars and revolutions but couldn’t bear to plan your memorial. so they left it all to your youngest daughter and i had to be the one to tell my own mother she didn’t have to be strong. i had to feel her break in my arms.

denial

things that don’t make sense: to talk about you in the past tense; to say only Lolo and not Lolo-and-Lola; to see you in pictures and realize we can never take another; that your jewelry and perfume bottles and makeup are exactly as you left them on your dresser; that your perfectly paired blouses and satin camisoles are still hanging in your closet; that one day your things will no longer smell like you.

depression

i remember how it brought you joy to watch me sing and dance; there’s plenty documentation of this on old film, your laughter and applause underscoring the britney spears. you never knew it, but there was a time i was terrified to sing at family events—but i would for you. “moon river” was a song i learned from you. dad played the guitar and i sang to you the whole time. you kept your eyes on me, smiling as you sang the words back. just for me. that night, i made a playlist of songs i could sing with you the next time i got a chance. i didn’t get one. but somewhere in between your novena days, i found the garageband file where you, Lolo, mom, and i sang “somethin’ stupid” for one of your anniversaries. i isolated our vocals together and wept for an hour.

bargaining

can i visit you past the veil and keep no promises? if i am told to walk ahead and not look back, i will give a non-committal nod, knowing full well i love you too much to lose that chance. i’m sorry for all the time i took for granted. i hadn’t even thought there would be a last one.

denial

i am a child again and i am walking with you hand in hand in a field of butterflies. they float above our heads, creating a halo around yours. i giggle in wonder—so pretty!—and name every color i see and can feel the fondness through the warmth of your squeeze. you loosen your hold and nudge me forward gently, telling me to chase them. my delight rings through the air as i skip through the grass. then i think: this is a moment i should be sharing with you. i turn around, only to find a flock of purplewings where you once stood. i reach out my hands to catch one, but they flutter away in a burst.

acceptance

i wake up.

— jade a.

escapril day 10: drug of choice

bonus prompt - @darlingwendy: The Kubler-Ross model, or the five stages of grief, is often thought of as a linear experience. The reality is much different. Playing with a non-linear narrative, write a poem that grieves.

[ktheist]

CEO!JK + - prompt list - + #47 “You’re seriously like a man-child.”

“ooh, you wanna kiss me so bad.”

“you’re seriously like a man child.”

muses. ceo!jk 

genre. e2l / arranged marriage

word. 2.6k

warnings. implied smut

synopsis. your family legacy is falling into ruins. your father is on his deathbed and your mother and sisters have never worked a day in their lives. their only hope is the jeons - the family of the fiancé you abandoned.

x

it can’t be said that you know nothing of jeon jeongguk per se. for one, he was lightly nudged in your direction by his mother at the age of 6 because he’d been hiding behind her legs since the jeon’s arrived. clad in navy blue kindergarten uniform and gripping tightly onto the brown teddy bear he uncreatively called ‘teddy’, he’d stolen a glance at you for a split second and fixed his gaze to the ground.

“____, say hi to jeongguk, you’re going to be seeing each other often from now on,” your mother nudged you from behind, her voice awfully sweet in the presence of mrs. jeon and her extremely shy son.

you’d found out at 11 years old and him 13 years old, what ‘seeing each other often’ actually entailed.

“i don’t wanna marry you!” you’d screamed in his face when you were left alone by the adults.

“i don’t wanna marry a kid with snot running down her face 24/7 either.” jeongguk’s retort, though held no substance, still made you wipe your nose on your sleeve after you’d left him and locked yourself in your room.

at the age of 13 and him 15, you’d managed to escape the clutches of your family by proposing the idea of attending a prestigious boarding school in zurich where you’d spent most of your adolescent years skipping classes and crashing parties.

by 18, you wanted to laugh at your teachers’ relieved faces when your name was called to receive your diploma, marking the end of your great era in that school.

that was when your mother called you back to south korea, claiming that she’d missed her youngest so very much. but you’d continued to make excuses to stay in zurich, applying for a scholarship and getting into a local university there.

none of your friends knew anyone from home and you’d only passingly mentioned that ‘oh, i don’t talk to my family much’.

but just as you were finishing your degree, the news of your father in his death bed latched onto your limbs and had you hopping onto the first flight home.

“what do you mean? so we’re broke?” yuqi’s voice cut through the air like a knife. even her ray bans couldn’t hide her burning gaze.

to think you willingly walked into this mess of a family.

“yuqi, let dad speak,” miyeon glares.

minnie asks after a lapse of silence, “dad, what do you mean the company’s wounding up?”

your father, a man with greying hair and cheeks losing most of their fullness, stares at nothing but the ceiling, as if seeing the angels welcoming him.

“do you remember uncle jee?” even breathing seems difficult for a man that used to work out everyday at the private gym and always invited you to join in on his healthy lifestyle, “he transferred all the company’s assets to his name and fled the country. even his family doesn’t know-”

“oh, for heaven’s sake!” your mother cries, shooting up from the sofa farthest from the bed - you should have known something was wrong when a wife wasn’t waiting by her husband’s bed and took the seat that’s on the far end from her husband, “just admit that it’s your fault! you trusted him too much even though i warned you about him! you ruined this family!”

“i should’ve brought popcorns,” soyeon says from next to you, shooting you an unapologetic - heck, even entertained smile - when you craned your neck out of mild disbelief.

this family’s a little fucked up in the head.

but they call you the black sheep that got away.

“so what now? do we have to... work?” soojin asks, a horrified look spreading across her face.

those several inches nails aren’t made for work. that’s for sure.

“the jeons...,” he coughs, “jeongguk promised to help us rebuild the family business because my father - your grandfather, supported the jeons when they were starting out.”

all of a sudden, seven pairs of eyes turn to you as if you’re the rabbit in a cage full of wolves. the air turns chilly as if someone’s turned the ac to a minus degrees celcius.

“well, don’t look at me, i haven’t talked to him for 9 years,” despite your hands held up and your shoulders almost making your neck shrink into your body, all they see is a little gold piggy bank.

“what? what about the times when we talked on the phone? you sounded so close!” your mother’s source of rage shifts to you.

“well, i mean, he’s pretty active on instagram-” you couldn’t even properly finish your sentence when a hand lands on your shoulder and you’re staring into your reflection in yuqi’s ray bans.

“start talking,” her cherry lips curl as she holds out your phone that you don’t even notice she’s swiped out of your hand bag which, “hey, how did you-” you remembered was zipped shut.

x

“you got something to tell me?” the jeongguk before you wears a smirk that exudes confidence and billion dollar legacy backing him up.

no longer the shy kid that avoids the gaze of those he’s not used to and keeps his head hung low. if anything, his chin is looking too tilted for your liking. though you can’t say the same for the muscles that fill out his suit and wraps around his biceps a little too snug.

he’s finally foregone the side swiped bangs and grew it enough to have it tied back into a man bun, enhancing his sharp jawline and proving once and for all that puberty isn’t just for anyone.

the hesitant hum reverberates against your chest. you can only hope that it’s not audible for persons besides yourself, “you look great.”

his head drops as he chuckles but you can still see the way his jaw clenches, cutting off every humor that’s ever present before looking straight at you through his lashes, “can’t say the same for you.”

you resist the urge to shoot up, handle of your handbag tucked in the juncture between your arm and forearm and strut out of the restaurant without looking back.

“that rotten attitude of yours hasn’t changed i see,” allowing the smile to sneak up your face, you feel your nails digging into your palms underneath the table, rooting you back to your reason for being here.

“it’s the thinking you’re better than me for me,” he states, back leaning against the chair.

“oh, baby, i am better than you,” the words escape your lips as naturally as breathing does.

“i don’t know about that, i certainly wouldn’t bring an on-and-off boyfriend of mine to a restaurant where my potential clients usually go to,” there’s a gleam in his eyes.

but before you can dissect the meaning of his words, the sight of a familiar jet black haired man trudging from toward your table with a distorted expression and waiters hurrying after him from a few steps away - catches your attention.

“___! baby, i’m sorry!” if you look closer, you could see the tears welling up in his eyes when he spots you.

“eric,” the hiss under your breath is venomous, threatening, “what are you doing here?!”

“i’m here for you, baby. i realized you’re the only one for me,” he drops to his knees, pulling out a velvet red box from his pocket. the waiters that were chasing after him now freezing, looking at each other back and forth before eric proclaims his undying love and his desires to, “i don’t want to live a life without you- marry me, baby!”

“stop,” you say curtly, body involuntarily leaned forward to make sure your voice reaches him. the sight of a smirking jeongguk adds to oil to the flames growing inside of you, “stop it. you’re acting insane, right now.”

“...i promise, i’ll never cheat on you again...” eric goes on, tears freely streaming down his cheeks as his shoulders sag, “i even tattooed your name on my chest.”

the italic curls of your name is inked in black a few inches underneath his left collarbone, probably where his heart is supposed to be. but at the moment, all you can see is jeongguk’s leisure wine drinking, “oh my god, security. please, take this man away, he’s disrupting lunchtime.”

the two waiters seem to snap out of their initial trance, marching over to eric and gripping his arms with all their might before dragging him away at the manager’s instructions. it’s only then, do you notice the flash of camera from one of the tables on the farthest left side of the restaurant, its position allowing for a full view of your expression and possibly only a view of jeongguk’s back.

“you,” a whisper slips out of your mouth once you’ve assured the manager that everything was settled and you’d continue eating, “you planned this.”

“what an assertive deduction. i almost thought you would’ve missed it altogether,” he remarks, a look of pure awe spreading across his face.

“fuck you, jeon,” slamming your fist against the table, you slip out of your chair and march out of restaurant, fully aware of the eyes that follow you until you’re out of sight.

x

no word got out.

sns was oddly silent about the incident at the restaurant but your sisters know anyway. shuhua knocks on your door, fixing you one of her calming smiles before dropping the bomb.

“mother and elder sisters don’t know, i’m not gonna tell them but i think it’s better if you talk to jeongguk about it.” is what she suggests.

but she doesn’t know he was the one that orchestrated it, as if your life was a show and he was there for a good time. either way, to ease your sister’s heart, you make your way to jeongguk’s office.

he made you wait for a good two hours, having his assistant retell that he’s busy and can’t be disturbed at the moment. but once you’ve had enough, you barge into his room, nails digging into your palms at the lack of meeting partner and the man’s too casual appearance with his blazer draped over his recliner and his sleeves folded up till his elbow.

“i heard you were in a meeting,” you announce, making sure to glare at the secretary that stopped dead in her tracks when you managed to slip past her and through the door of jeongguk’s office.

“as you can see, i’m quite busy,” he nods, hands gesturing at the open mac in front of him.

“what are you playing at, jeon jeongguk?” a smacking sound echoes through the air as you slam your palms on his mahogany table, glaring down at him “because i swear to god, i will make sure you regret messing with me.”

but instead of the panic you hope to raise, a chuckle trickles out of his lips, “ooh, you wanna kiss me so bad.”

how the prettiest pairs of lips could smirk like that is beyond you. natural pink lips, curving deviously as his bunny lips peek innocently underneath. you don’t notice you were staring until his voice fills the silence, forcing you to tear your gaze away from those kissable lips and meet his gaze.

“you really do wanna kiss me,” there’s that gleam in his eyes - that of realization and something - something - you can’t pinpoint.

gone is the boy that used to tell you your pigtails are lopsided and proceeded to fix it for you - he made it worse but you didn’t really mind because it was the effort that counted.

but that was almost a decade ago.

“you’re seriously like a man child,” you shake your head, the initial reason of marching over to his office now shoved to the back of your mind. the last thing you want is to be in the same room with a man who seems to only be interested in making someone else’s life his own personal entertainment.

but before your fingers brush the metal handle of the double doors, another hand brushing on top of yours, feather-light fingers pleading for you not to walk out on him.

“i’m sorry,” he doesn’t sound like the jeon jeongguk you’ve come to know within the short span of time - like a man stripped off his cards and games, “i went too far.”

you don’t - can’t - say anything but your body isn’t exactly listening to your mind’s instructions to move out of his grasp. out of his presence.

“i didn’t know the reporter was there - i made sure he’s keeping his mouth shut after you left,” his breath is hot against your neck and his front brushes against your back but not really touching.

“why did you do it? why did you bring eric all the way here?” you pray to thank the stars for the strength in your voice despite the feeling that’s slowly disappearing from your knees.

“i found out  you guys broke up because he cheated.. i wanted to make sure he knew you were mine,” his clicks his tongue, “i didn’t know you dated such a psycho-”

your world spins for the briefest moment before you come face to face with a wide eyed jeongguk.

“first off, you don’t own me,” you announce, arms coming to cross over your chest in show of protest, “and second off,” the semblance of surprise and panic finally slips through his facade when your hands grip his collar, “kiss me.”

the last thing you remember is jeongguk nodding ever so slightly before his eyes flutter shut just miliscends before yours. you feel his arm band around your lower back, free hand digging into your hair and pulling you closer into the kiss. he tastes like mint and lemon candies that your nanny used to give you and you’d give it to him, saying something like “it’s my favorite candy but i like you so i’ll let you have one”. you don’t miss the small jar he keeps on the side of his desk full of those candies.

but the matter of this and getting married in order to save your family from falling into ruins are two different matters altogether.

and somewhere down the line, you find yourselves still arguing about the littlest of things.

“um, what do you mean that red roses aren’t romantic? it’s literally the symbol of undying love,” surprisingly enough, it’s jeongguk that’s fighting for the fiercer shade of the petal.

“you think fuchsia pink doesn’t symbolize love?” you roll your eyes.

then comes the time when your mother and magically healed father asking for a grandchild to which jeongguk grins, “we’re working on baby jeon.”

(you’re married and the petals themed in your wedding are both fuchsia and garnet)

“excuse me?” you turn to him, brows arching. that alone warrants a break of cold sweat on jeongguk’s forehead as he cautiously laughs.

“i mean, w-we’re not ready yet.”

rather, you’re not ready to forego your child-less phase in exchange for late night awakenings and learning cry-languages.

but you’re not exactly being careful either, what with the two of you finding the holes in time to slip away from your family and into your childhood room only for jeongguk to slam you against the wall and bend you over the vanity.

“jeongguk did you bring a condom?” you ask.

“i’ll pull out,” is all he says and you’re barely listening as you clasp your palms agaist your mouth, trying not to let out the moans pass through your lips.

when you go back to your family, jeongguk’s arm is around your waist and you both sit together as you joke and laugh with your sisters whilst jeongguk raises a glass to joining your dad at the gym.

x

note. hope yall enjoyed!

see drabble game! for how to request!

[thelastspeecher]

A Case of Mistaken Identity - Chapter 4: Fear No Weather

Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4   AO3

I don’t often just sort of, discretely, without warning, update a multichap.  I usually mention ahead of time that I’m working on the next chapter and it’s getting close, maybe I even post a small screenshot.  But this time, I was so focused on getting the next chapter of this fic up that I forewent that.

Anyways, this chapter has Stan being a cynic and Mabel being a delight and Fiddleford being suspicious of what exactly Ford is up to when he’s not around.  Enjoy.

———————————————————————————————————–

              Ford gaped at Stan.

              “What do you mean, ‘who are they’?  They’re your children!” Ford protested.  “I told you that-”

              “Yeah, you said that I had two kids that showed up at your place,” Stan said.  He crossed his arms.  “I was an idiot to believe you.”

              “They are your-”

              “Hey, kids,” Stan barked.

              “Yes?” Dipper squeaked.

              “You twins?” Stan asked.  Dipper and Mabel nodded.  “How old are the two of you?”

              “Twelve,” Mabel replied.

              “Twelve.”  Stan narrowed his eyes at Ford.  “If they were mine, I woulda had to knock up some poor girl while I still lived at home. I know you don’t think much of me, but do you really think I’d be a teen dad?  After everything Pops pounded into our skulls?”

              “I wouldn’t put it past you,” Ford said shortly. Stan huffed impatiently.  He began to walk away.  Ford raised his voice.  “After all, you seem perfectly fine abandoning your children!”  Stan rounded on Ford, his face beet red.

              “Fuck off, you prick!” he snarled.  Fiddleford let out a yelp.

              “Stanley, please, there are children here!” Fiddleford protested.  Stan didn’t even look over at Fiddleford, instead continuing to glare at Ford.

              “Shut up, Ford’s ‘partner’,” he ground out, etching air quotes around the word “partner”.  Fiddleford flushed.  “First off, kids should learn swears.  Second, I don’t give a damn about keeping a clean mouth when Ford’s telling me I’m a deadbeat dad and fine with it.  He knows that I always swore I wouldn’t do that.”

              “You also swore you’d stand by me, only to sabotage-” Ford started.  Stan threw his hands into the air.

              “Wow, it only took you five minutes to bring that up, huh?  I went outta my way to come see you ‘cause you insisted-”

              “As if you were doing anything of note-” Ford scoffed.

              “For all you know, I was solving cancer!”

              “You were either dumpster diving or being thrown out of a casino!”

              “Like you’re doing something more important, holed up in a romantic cabin-”

              “Gentlemen!” Fiddleford said loudly.

              “You’re not involved, hayseed.  And trust me, you don’t want to be,” Stan snarled.

              “Don’t call Fiddleford-”

              “I’ll call him whatever the damn well I want to!” Stan’s voice was now a low roar. Ford raised his to match.

              “Oh, Lord,” Fiddleford muttered, kneading his forehead.

              “Just let them tire themselves out,” Mabel said. Fiddleford shook his head.

              “Sweetling, I grew up with five siblin’s.  I know when an argument will turn into a fist fight,” he said tiredly.  Dipper and Mabel exchanged a look.

              “Should we spill the beans?” Mabel whispered.

              “They’ll figure it out eventually.  We might as well tell them before they bring the house down,” Dipper hissed back.  Mabel nodded. She hopped off her chair and walked over to the brothers, who had progressed to screaming at each other.

              “Stan’s right,” she called over the noise.  Stan gestured at her.

              “See, Sixer?  I told you I didn’t have any kids.”

              “What?  But…” Ford seemed heartbroken.  “I don’t-”

              “Stan isn’t our dad.  He’s our great-uncle.  And as far as we can tell, so are you, Ford.”

              “Great, huh?” Stan snorted.  He crossed his arms.  “Kid, we haven’t known each other long enough for you to know what I’m like as an uncle.”

              “Not great as in like, good.  Great as in…”  Mabel looked at Dipper, who got down from his chair and joined her.

              “Great as in two generations removed,” he explained. Ford frowned.

              “A great-uncle is the brother of a grandparent. Are you saying that Shermie is your grandfather?”  Dipper and Mabel nodded.  “That’s impossible.  Shermie’s children aren’t old enough to have children your age.  Not to mention, Shermie’s too young to be a grandfather.”

              “Right now, he’s too young,” Dipper agreed. Ford’s eyes widened.  He crouched down to the twins’ eye-height.

              “Are you suggesting you are from the future?” he asked breathlessly.  Dipper and Mabel nodded again.  Ford’s eyes, brown like theirs, sparkled behind his glasses.  “Remarkable.”

              “Really?  You believe them?” Stan demanded.  “You’re not even gonna ask for proof?”

              “I’ve seen far stranger things in Gravity Falls than time travelers,” Ford said.  He raised an eyebrow.  “Though maybe Stanley has a point.  Do you two have any proof to offer?”  Wordlessly, Dipper drew the journal from his jacket.  Ford’s jaw dropped.  “My journal!”

              “Don’t read anything in it,” Dipper said quickly. Ford nodded.

              “I won’t even open it, my dear boy.  Just seeing the outside is enough to fully sway my opinion.”  Ford looked the journal over a few times, then handed it back, despite clearly wanting to hold on to it longer.  Stan scoffed.

              “He shows you some book and you’re convinced, huh? Y’know, pulling a prank doesn’t have to be this damn complicated,” Stan said snidely.  Ford stood.  He frowned at Stan.

              “This is no prank.”

              “If you want me to believe you, I’m gonna need some proof.”  Stan stared directly at Dipper and Mabel.  “Tell me tomorrow’s lotto numbers.”

              “We don’t know those,” Dipper said.  Mabel shook her head.

              “If you’re really from the future, you’d have some fancy future tech,” Stan said.  Dipper and Mabel shook their heads.  Stan’s face hardened.  “Yeah. Figured.”

              “Uh, give us a moment,” Dipper said.  He pulled Mabel over to the side to whisper to her.  “How are we supposed to convince Stan?  He’s a notorious cynic!  I mean, he lived in Gravity Falls for years, but refused to acknowledge the existence of the supernatural!”

              “Well, we don’t have any technology that is future-y enough,” Mabel said slowly.  “Maybe we let him know something that we know about him?”

              “That would only work if Ford didn’t know it, either. If it’s something Ford would know, then Stan will just think Ford told us.”

              “So it has to be something that happened after Stan left home,” Mabel said.  Dipper nodded.  “Hmm…” Her eyes brightened.  “Oh!  I’ve got it!”

              “Really?”

              “Yeah!”

----- 

              A couple weeks into their stay in Gravity Falls, Mabel woke up before Dipper.  Knowing how late her brother tended to stay up, she decided to let him sleep in, and happily traipsed downstairs for some breakfast.  Her bubbly mood was slightly stifled by the sight of Stan in just his boxers and undershirt, cooking at the stove, looking more ogrish than usual.

              He probably just hasn’t had a chance to freshen up yet.

              “You’re up early,” Stan grunted.  Using a large wooden spoon, he poked whatever was cooking in the skillet.

              “I don’t need much beauty sleep,” Mabel replied. To her delight, the comment elicited a small smile from Stan.  She bounded to his side.  “What’s for breakfast?”

              “I went classic today.  Bacon and eggs.”

              “…Bacon?”

              “Yeah.  You heard of it, right?  It’s the best dam- darn food in the world, kid.”

              “No, I’ve heard of it.  I’ve even had it.  But Dad told us that you keep kosher, like Grampie Shermie.”

              “Heh.  He probably thinks that ‘cause Shermie told him we kept kosher as kids.  But the day I left home, I said ‘screw it’ and tried bacon. Never looked back.  Best decision I ever made.”

              “Really?  You haven’t done anything else in your entire life that was better than deciding to eat bacon?” Mabel asked doubtfully.  A sudden somber fell over her grunkle.

              “…No,” he said.

              “Oh.”  It was as though Stan’s mood was contagious.  Mabel could feel herself getting more serious as well.  “That’s kinda sad, though.”

              “Eating bacon is the best thing I’ve done so far,” Stan said brightly.  His mood switch was so abrupt that Mabel doubted it was genuine.  “I might be old, but I’ve still got some time to do something even better than eat bacon.”

              “Like what?” Mabel asked.  Stan raised an eyebrow at her.

              “Whattaya think?”

              “Hmm…”  Mabel frowned thoughtfully.  She beamed. “Oh!  You could write a series of mystery novels called Crime Grandpa!” Stan snorted.  Mabel took this as a sign to continue.  “You could teach a bear how to drive!”

              “That’s actually not half bad,” Stan said.

              “You could save Dipper from magical math!”

              “Magical math, huh?” Stan asked.  Mabel nodded.  “How would I do that?”

              “You’re the one that saves him, not me.”

              “Heh.”  Stan ruffled Mabel’s hair.  “Guess I’ll have to work on that one, then.  Now, stop bugging me, or I’ll burn breakfast.”

              Mabel went over to the kitchen table.  She sat in her chair, kicking her legs idly.  As she waited for food, she could barely make out Stan muttering to himself.

              “I bet Dan could find some bear I could use…”

----- 

              “What did you think of?” Dipper asked, dragging Mabel out of the memory.  Mabel grinned and trotted over to Stan.  She leaned her head back to look into his face.

              “Grunkle Stan, your favorite food is bacon!” she said. Stan’s face went slack.

              “No, it’s toffee peanuts,” Ford said.  “Stan’s never even had bacon.”

              “The day after he left home, he tried bacon,” Mabel said, “and he never looked back.”  Stan swore softly under his breath.  “Do you believe us now, Grunkle Stan?”

              “I don’t think I fully believe you, squirt,” Stan said after a moment.  “But you’ve got my attention at least.  I’ll hear you out.”  Mabel’s grin broadened.  Stan looked over at Fiddleford.  “Why are you so quiet, hayseed?  No comment?”

              “I already said my comments when they told me the truth the other day,” Fiddleford said with a shrug.  Ford’s jaw dropped again.  “Stanley, since yer willin’ to at least listen now, would ya mind joinin’ us fer breakfast?”

              “A free meal?”  Stan marched over to the table, grabbed a chair, pulled it out, and sat. He put his feet up on the table. “Like I’d turn that down.”

----- 

              While Dipper and Mabel told their great-uncles how they wound up in the past, Stan practically inhaled multiple bowls of breakfast scramble doused in sausage gravy.  The kids watched in almost awe as their grunkle put away food at an unnervingly fast pace.  The speed was actually concerning to Dipper, who began to wonder if there was a nefarious reason for Stan’s appetite.

              It’s like he hasn’t had anything to eat in days. A strange sensation squeezed Dipper’s gut.  That might actually be the case.  Who knows what he’s been up to?  Judging by Fiddleford’s concerned expression, he was thinking along similar lines.

              “Where is this time travel device?” Ford asked, once they had finished their story.

              “We gave it to Mr. McGucket,” Mabel said. Wordlessly, Fiddleford drew the tape measure out of his back pocket.  He placed it on the table.  Ford picked it up.  He let out a long breath of astonishment.

              “This is incredible.”

              “Looks like something you could get at the hardware store for two bucks,” Stan said in between mouthfuls of food.  “Why are you believing these kids?”

              “Do you still doubt they’re from the future?”

              “Yes.  I already said that,” Stan said impatiently.  “I’m just hearing them out so that I can decide whether I actually believe ‘em or not.  So far, I’m leaning towards thinking they’re pulling some sort of weird con.”

              “How else can they convince you?” Ford asked. Stan shrugged.  “If you can’t provide an example of the evidence needed, how-”  Ford was interrupted by a beeping sound.  “What is that?”

              “Hell if I know,” Stan muttered.  He began shoveling food into his mouth again. “Some sorta weird, nerdy, mad science thing?”

              “If it was something Fiddleford or I made, I would recognize the noise it makes,” Ford said irritably.

              “Maybe it started working right while you weren’t looking,” Stan said.  Ford glared.

              “You-”

              “It’s my watch,” Dipper said quickly.  He shut off the alarm on his digital watch. “It’s letting me know the battery’s getting low, that’s all.”

              “That’s yer watch?” Fiddleford asked.  Dipper nodded.  “I’ve never heard a watch make that sort of sound.  What kind is it?”

              “Uh…a digital electronic wristwatch?” Dipper said warily.  Ford and Fiddleford’s eyes widened.  Stan, however, held out a hand.

              “Show me,” he instructed.  Dipper hesitated.  “I won’t steal it from you.  I know better than to pocket something people are looking at.”  Dipper reluctantly removed his watch and handed it over.  Stan held the watch up to his eyes, squinting.

              Why is he holding it so close?  Dipper abruptly remembered how blind Stan was in the future.  Does he need glasses?  Ford does.  Finally, Stan set the watch down on the table.  He slid it back to Dipper, who put it on his wrist again.

              “Why didn’t you show me that from the beginning?” he asked.  Dipper and Mabel’s jaws dropped.

              “Wait, you believe us now?” Dipper asked.  Stan nodded.

              “But…it’s just a watch,” Mabel said.

              “It’s a watch I’ve only ever seen in movies. There’s no reason someone like you would have one.  So I’ll ask again.  Do you kids know any future lotto numbers?” he asked.  The twins shook their heads.  “Dammit,” he muttered.  “Coulda used the dough.”

              “Even if we knew, we wouldn’t tell you,” Mabel said. “We can’t change the future too much.” Stan smiled, but the expression seemed more sad than amused.

              “Kiddo, you two definitely already screwed things up.”

              “But-” Mabel started.  Ford held up a hand.  She fell silent.

              “Stanley is right,” he said solemnly.  “You two have, undoubtedly, altered the future from the one you came from.”

              “So…we won’t be able to get back home?”

              “Not by using the device that took you here alone. You’ll need to also utilize a tool allowing you to travel between realities, as you now come from an alternate universe, as well as the future.”

              “How are we supposed to find something like that?” Dipper asked.  “We stole the tape measure and wound up breaking it!  We have no idea how to go to a different reality.”  A smile spread across Ford’s face.

              “Luckily, I happen to know someone who has much expertise in other realms.”  That got Fiddleford’s attention.  He watched Ford warily.  “I will go consult him.”  Without another word, he got up from his chair and left the kitchen.

              “Great, just great,” Fiddleford muttered under his breath.  He began to clear the table.  “He’s gettin’ his lil friend involved.”

              “You seem peeved, Fiddlesticks,” Stan commented. Fiddleford sighed.

              “I ain’t met this person he said he’ll talk to, which ain’t a crime in and of itself.  But I get a bad feelin’ ‘bout it.”

              “You gotta trust your gut,” Stan said softly. He eyed Dipper and Mabel.  “And my gut says that there’s something big that you two are either leaving out or just flat-out don’t know about.”

              “Why?” Dipper asked.  Stan raised an eyebrow.

              “You guys only think Ford’s your great-uncle. Which to me, makes it sound like you two didn’t even know Ford existed before you came here.”

              “I mean…sort of,” Dipper said, rubbing the back of his neck.  Mabel looked at him questioningly.  “We might as well tell him, Mabel.  You heard Ford.  We already messed up the future.”

              “Yeah,” Mabel said.  She took over for Dipper.  “We knew you, but we thought your name was Stanford.  We didn’t know you, or Ford, or, uh, both of you, had a twin.” Stan swore.  “What?  What’s wrong?”

              “How long was I going by Ford’s name?” Stan asked.

              “You didn’t go by Ford, you still went by Stan,” Dipper said.  “You just said it was short for Stanford.”

              “That’s a bit better, but still not great. Answer the question, kid.”

              “I don’t know how long you went by Stanford. But as far as we knew, our dad thought that was your name, and so did Grampie Shermie.”  Fiddleford, who had progressed from clearing the dishes from the table to washing them, froze.  “We were really confused when we got here.”

              “Yeah.  Yeah, I can see why,” Stan mumbled.  He closed his eyes.  “Shit.”

              “You need to explain yer sudden concern, Stanley,” Fiddleford said, propping a sudsy hand on one hip.  “We can’t read yer mind.”

              “Like you’re not concerned about this new information,” Stan snapped.

              “Oh, believe me, I am.  But yer clearly comin’ to some conclusions that ya need to share with the rest of us.”

              “Fine.”  Stan paused. “I don’t always like my life, but I wouldn’t try to take over Ford’s.  Sure, we pretended to be each other to confuse people when we were kids. But this isn’t tricking our mom. This is…this is something serious. I mean, what happened to Stanley? Ford wouldn’t be me, so what did I do with my real identity?”  Stan was silent for a moment.  “There’s only one circumstance I can think of, where I would pretend to be Ford for years and act like the real me didn’t even exist anymore.  Ford isn’t around.”

              “You think he’s passed, by Dipper ‘n Mabel’s time?” Fiddleford asked softly.  Stan shook his head.

              “I wouldn’t take over Ford’s life if he was dead. That’s wrong on more levels than I can count.  No, Ford’s alive.  Or at least, future me thinks he’s alive.  But he’s missing, in some sort of trouble, and I decided the easiest way to help would be to pretend to be him.”

              “Would you try to help him?” Dipper asked quietly.

              “Am I pissed at Ford?  Yes.  Do I hate his guts?  Yes.  But would I do everything I could to help him?” Stan asked.  He paused. “Yes,” he said.  “We might not be friends anymore, but we’re still brothers. We’re still twins.  I wouldn’t turn my back on him if I thought he was in danger.”

              “Maybe right now, that’s yer reaction, but there’s always the chance that you change,” Fiddleford said.  Stan nodded.

              “Yeah, hayseed, that’s possible.  Maybe I’m a different person in the future.  But at least right now, I can only think of one way to wind up in the situation these kids are describing.  Ford’s in trouble.”

              “What kind of trouble?” Mabel asked.  Stan let out a bark of laughter.

              “If I had any idea, little gremlin, I’d tell you.”

----- 

              Glad to have a reason to leave his twin’s presence, Ford entered his study.  He closed the door behind him, then sat cross-legged on the floor.  Excitement filled him at having such an excellently unique circumstance to consult his muse for.

              I highly doubt, even in his millennia of existence, he’s come across a situation like this.  Ford closed his eyes and began to empty his mind of thoughts.  His excitement made the simple act difficult; it took much longer than usual.  But finally, his head had been cleared.  And in the darkness and silence, his muse came.

              “Well, well, well,” sounded the familiar and welcome voice.

              Ford smiled.

              “Hello, Bill.”

[ffakc]

A Midwest Christmas - a Jeffrey Dean Morgan fanfiction

Again, I’m aware I’m late posting this. I know it’s no longer Christmas, don’t yell at me. Christmas is one of my favorite holidays and I LOVE writing stories that are based around Christmas.

Jeff crushed out his cigarette and breathed hot air into his hands to warm them. He shrugged his shoulders a few times, almost as if he was psyching himself up.

“You okay, babe?” I ask and kiss his cheek, shutting the car off.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I don’t know why I’m so nervous! I’m a grown ass man, damn it,” my boyfriend chuckles.

“They’ll love you, Jeff. You know my mom and dad love you already, you have nothing to worry about, baby” I give his thigh a squeeze and kiss his neck deeply. Jeff moans and tilts his head to the side.

“Please don’t give me a boner before meeting your female relatives,” Jeff chuckles. “I don’t know, babe. Dad might not love me after I walk through the door,” he gestures to his Seattle Seahawks beanie.

“He’ll get over it,” I laugh and open the car door. Jeff grabs the box of gifts from the trunk and holds my hand as we walk to the front door.

“Merry Christmas Eve!” I holler from the foyer. Jeff kicks off his boots.

“Hey sweetie! Hey Jeff, what’s up, brother?” my dad calls from the den.

“Hey, Mr. C,” Jeff smiles warmly.

“Oh no, oh no. You take that hat off! You’re in Bear country!” my dad laughs. “Just when I thought I liked you!”

“I knew you’d say something! GO HAWKS!” Jeff chuckles and tosses it onto the bench. My dad jokingly makes a fist. I roll my eyes playfully and ruffle his hair as we head upstairs. Men and their sports, I’ll never understand it.

“You can just set the gifts under the tree,” I whisper to Jeff and give his arm a squeeze. He waves at my female relatives at the table.

“Hiiiii! Merry Christmas! I’ve missed you!” my cousin Amy hugs me. “How’s New York?”

“Absolutely incredible. Every day feels like a new adventure with this one,” I gesture to my man standing behind me. “This is my boyfriend, Jeff!”

“Hi there, you must be Amy? I’ve heard so much about you!” Jeff shakes her hand and kisses her cheek.

“All good things I hope!” Amy laughs.

“Yes ma’am. I’ve heard y’all are super close, and I love that. Family togetherness recharges the batteries.”

“I’m glad to hear it! I can’t think of a single holiday we didn’t spend together,” Amy gestures around the table.

“Have a seat!” my mom says. “Can I get you anything to drink? We have wine, beer, Coke Zero...”

“I’ll have a Coke,” Jeff replies and sits next to me at the long dinner table. I pull a small bottle of Crown Royal out of my bag.

“I’ll take a Coke as well,” I laugh.

“You came to party! I’ll take some too,” Jeff wraps his arm around me and kisses my cheek as I add the liquor to his glass of ice, “It smells amazing in here, Ma,” Jeff says to my mom.

“Thanks, Jeff! It’s a tradition on Christmas that we have Grandma, my mom’s, tacos. The shells are from a tiny little Mexican kitchen downtown, that’s how my mom always did it. I think we’re just waiting on Jessica and then we’ll be ready to eat!”

“Sounds delicious,” Jeff sips his drink.

“How’d you guys meet? You look super familiar, Jeff,” my aunt Janine remarks. I rest my head on Jeff’s shoulder.

“It all started when I began frequenting this coffee shop that opened near my, well, OUR farm while on hiatus from work. I couldn’t take my eyes off this brown eyed manager with the messy bun in her hair who would always ring me up and make my drink. Golly, she looked cute in that apron,” Jeff nudges me and everyone laughs as I blush. “I finally had to ask this pretty young thing out. I invited her over for dinner and the rest is history. One year and some change later and I can’t imagine my life with anyone else but my baby gal,” he kisses me softly. “Oh! I’m an actor, by the way. I’m currently on a show called The Walking Dead, I play the bad guy named Negan. A lot of people still recognize me as Denny from Grey’s Anatomy and John Winchester from Supernatural though,” Jeff smiles warmly.

“I knew those eyes looked familiar!” my aunt exclaims. “Wow, girl, a famous actor? Check you out!”

“He’s pretty great. I thought the concept of soulmates was cheesy til this man came along. I mean, nobody’s perfect, but Jeffrey comes pretty darn close,” I rub his thigh under the table.

“How old are you anyway? That gray beard says you’re old,” my 13 year old cousin Alyssa asks.

“Lys! You can’t just say that!” her mom quiets her.

“It’s okay, hon! I’m not offended at all! I AM old, real old. I’m 54,” Jeff laughs.

“And how old are you?” Alyssa turns her attention to me.

“24,” I link my arm with my man’s and nuzzle his shoulder.

“Sooo, you were 30 when she was born?” Alyssa makes a sassy face.

“Don’t push it, little girl,” Jeff teases and we all laugh.

*Jeff’s POV*

“So, this is the man cave, huh?” I glance around at the fishing poles adorning the chocolate brown wall and Chicago sports gear.

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice! It gets cold down here, but the fireplace helps!” my girlfriend’s dad Tim tosses some kindling on the fire.

“Super cozy,” I remark. I haven’t been this nervous in a long time. I had something I desperately wanted to ask him, but I didn’t want to just get right to it.

“How you doin’, bud?” my girlfriend’s grandfather Ray asks.

“Good, Ray! I’m really good, fantastic actually. It feels so nice to be off work for the holidays! Thank you guys so much for welcoming me into your home. Dinner was delicious and the Midwest hospitality is much appreciated.”

“You’re always welcome here,” Tim says.

“This is for you,” Ray reaches into his coat pocket. He passes a CD my way with small writing on the jacket, “To: Jeff. Love, Grampa.”

“Aww, what’s this?” I say, pushing my glasses up.

“Elvis Christmas songs. Something for you and your girl to dance to. You better treat her good,” he smiles his adorable old man smile.

“Thank you so much, Grandpa,” I get up and give him a hug. “You didn’t have to get me anything. So, um,” I clear my throat as I settle into the couch. “There’s something we should talk about. I mean, something I need to ask you. I don’t know, I’m shaky as hell. So, how do I put this?” I pull a small velvet box out of my pocket. “I brought this with me.”

“You want to marry me? Let me go get my dress!” Tim teases. Whew, a joke to break the tension.

“Yeah, totally! I, wow, I’m going to cry. Pull yourself together, Jeff. I wanted to know if I can ask your daughter to be my wife. She’s got me wrapped, man. When I look into her eyes, I just fall in love over and over again. I know it’s old fashioned of me to ask, but I thought I’d do the right thing and ask for your blessing. I love your girl so damn much, you have no idea,” I wipe tears away.

“I had a feeling this would be happening. You kept staring at me all through dinner with this lost puppy look in your eye, like I was going to yell at you or something! Jeff, I see the way she looks at you and it warms her dad’s heart. Every time you speak, she stops immediately what she’s doing and stares at you with hearts in her eyes. I’ve never seen my daughter so happy. Of course you have my blessing.” My heart begins hammering in my chest as my soon to be fiancée’s dad pulls me into a hug.

“Thank you so much, sir! Oh my god, I’m freaking out. Thank you, thank you! So, next question, where’s the best place to propose around these parts?”

“Well, downtown near your hotel on 5th Avenue, it’s all decked out in Christmas lights. Maybe you guys could take a walk down there?”

***

“What a great dinner, your family is so kind and welcoming!” Jeff says as we climb into the warm car. “I love you so much, doll.”

“I’m so glad you had a good time, honey. I knew you would! I love you too, Jeff. I’m so looking forward to the hot tub when we get back to the room, I don’t know about you.” Jeff slides his hand over my upper thigh seductively as I drive through the city in the direction of the hotel. I glance over at my boyfriend and he gives me the sexiest bedroom eyes. I could have just stopped the car and taken him right there. We jam out to our favorite Christmas songs and giggle like kids.

“Fifth Avenue,” Jeff mutters. “Pull over, babe.” I pull into a parking spot and Jeff grabs my face and kisses me deeply, “Let’s go walkin’ in a winter wonderland.” I smile and shut the car off and follow behind him. Jeff’s adorable spontaneity was one of his best qualities. He takes me by the hand as we look at the twinkling lights. There’s no cars on the road and the snow dampens all the sound.

“Hey, sweetheart?” Jeff places his hands on my hips.

“Yes?” I wrap my arms around his neck. We hold each other close.

“You’re so damn perfect,” he pecks my lips, I run my fingers through his soft gray hair. “I tried to come up with a long romantic speech, but words are failing me. You’re everything I’ve hoped and dreamed for. You’re the reason I wake up in the morning. You’re the reason I can’t wipe this smile off my face. Every time I look into those gentle brown eyes, I’m reminded of why I fell in love with you all over again. A life without you is a life I don’t want to live. You’re my entire world, sweet girl.” Jeff pulls away and reaches into his pocket.

“Oh my god,” I sigh, “Jeffrey, I-I-“ I’m utterly speechless. Jeff brushes away the snow on the sidewalk with his gloved hand and gets on one knee.

“Will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?” Jeff smiles widely, opening the velvet box and revealing a simple, shimmering band. That man knew me so well, it was exactly the

“Oh god, Daddy! Yes! Yes, Jeffrey, yes I’ll marry you!” I jump up and down excitedly. Jeff’s hands shake as he slides the ring on my finger. I gasp with delight, “I love you. Oh baby, it’s beautiful!” Jeff gets to his feet and rests his forehead against mine as we both cry tears of joy. My breath quavers from excitement and the biting cold as Jeff kisses me over and over again.

“I want you to be mine forever,” he whispers against my lips.

“Forever and ever. Oh my god, my heart is racing! You’re so amazing, I love you so much.”

“I love you the most, baby gal.”

***

Jeff and I could hardly keep our hands off each other as we hustled to the elevator.

“Merry Christmas!” the front desk agent calls out.

“You too!” Jeff replies with a friendly wave. I untie my coat as the door to the elevator shuts. I tangle my fingers in my silver fox’s thick hair and moan as he kisses my neck and pulls down my sweater, brushing his scruffy beard against my chest as he kisses and sucks gently.

“Jeffrey, you naughty boy,” I gasp. His large, slender hand find its way between my thighs. “Please, Daddy,” I whine. Jeff slides his fingers down the front of my leggings. He pulls them out just as the elevator chimes, my face goes red as I readjust my Christmas sweater and Jeff fixes his hair as if nothing ever happened.

“Merry Christmas!” an innocent, elderly Mrs. Claus looking woman greets us.

“Merry Christmas to you too!” I reply, the cool air of the hallway hitting Jeff’s saliva on my chest, causing me to shiver with delight. We laugh to ourselves as Jeff opens the door to our suite. Oh, that poor old lady, I hope she didn’t hear too much.

“Let’s see, how about we celebrate with a drink!” Jeff says with a wide smile, slinging his coat over a chair.

“Hmm, how about something sweet? I kind of want dessert after all those tacos,” I wrap my arms around my now fiancé’s waist as he kisses me, his large hands squeeze me closer.

“Your sweater reminds me, how about a White Russian?”

“I am, in fact, the Dude. One of my favorites,” I reply with a laugh.

“Hmm. Vodka, check. Coffee liqueur, got it. Cream, hmm. Cream, cream, cream,” Jeff taps his chin. “Got it!” he grabs some half and half packets from the coffee station.

“Ah, resourceful! I like that!” I kiss him and sit on the bed, “I’ll get the bath ready.”

I draw the bath and Jeff hands me a drink, setting his on the rim of the tub. He unbuttons his shirt revealing his hairy chest and stomach. He kisses me.

“I love you so much,” he says. “Nice ring you’ve got there.”

“Thanks!” I run my fingers down his chest, “My handsome fiancé gave it to me.”

“He must be a lucky guy,” Jeff’s pants come off and he slides into the tub with a loud groan.

“Jesus, that feels so fucking good,” he runs his fingers through his hair. “Come on in, baby gal, the water’s fine.” Jeff bites his lip eagerly as I take my clothes off. “You’re so sexy, you know that?”

“I could say the same about you, darlin’,” I reply, tossing my bra on the floor. I tie my hair up as my fiancé looks me up and down. I climb in the tub, opposite of the rugged older man that I was so lucky to call mine. Jeff grabs my leg and begins kissing the length of my calf.

“When and where do you want to get married?” he asked with a sly smile, kneading my legs.

“Honestly, I’ve always dreamed of a fall or winter wedding. You know how I feel about hot weather,” I take a sip of my White Russian.

“Babe, it’s too hot! This is stupid! Ninety degrees? Ew, fuck that!” Jeff imitates my whining. I laugh.

“You know me so well!”

“Daddy, I have a headache!” Jeff cackles.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” I playfully splash water in his face with my foot. Jeff sputters.

“I give you shit because I love you!” he wipes his face.

“I know, and I give it right back to you, asshole! What were we talking about again?” I giggle.

“Wedding plans?”

“Oh, right. So, definitely a fall wedding. What about on the farm? Ballrooms have never really struck my fancy. That little area off beyond the pastures would be beautiful, don’t you think?”

“I agree, I don’t need a big gala with a stuffy tuxedo to show everyone how much I love you. Ooh! How about under that big tree where we had a picnic and carved our names?” Jeff places my legs on his shoulders.

“J hearts K, yeah, I remember,” I sigh longingly. “That’s where you first told me you loved me.”

“Aw, it was, wasn’t it? You packed us a picnic and everything! You’re just a regular Ina Garten, aren’t you? Remember me yelling at the dogs to stay away from the alpacas? ‘Guys, those aren’t puppies, they’ll kick the shit out of you!’” Jeff laughs.

“Well, if I’m Ina, you’re Jeffrey! Hey, look at that! It works!” I tap my glass against his. “Those dogs are so cute, but they’re little shits sometimes.”

“Oh, absolutely they are,” Jeff agrees. “Wow, that cute barista who I was scared to ask out is going to be my wife? How did I get so damn lucky?”

“You were scared to ask me out? Why? We would always chit-chat back and forth.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why. I think it’s because I didn’t want to be THAT guy. You know, the guy who thinks the food service worker is flirting with him just because she’s being nice,” Jeff rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t get that impression from you at all! I think you’re sexy as fuck, and have since the day I first met you. If I thought you were a scumbag, I wouldn’t have flirted back. And I wouldn’t have had sex with you on the first date, would I?” I tease.

“You’re right. Man, that was a wild night, eh? My heart still beats fast when I think about it,” Jeff grins. “You looked so damn good in my shirt too. Come here,” he holds out his arms and I make my way to his side of the tub, sitting on his lap. He runs his manly hands all over my body and buries his face in my neck, kissing and moaning, “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Mrs. Morgan.”

“I love the sound of that. I get to be your wife and I’ve never been happier in my entire life. I love you so much, Jeffrey.”

“I love you too.”

We eventually climb out of the tub, after kissing and laughing and talking til the water turns our toes to raisins. I wrap myself in a fuzzy bathrobe and Jeff quickly does the same. I climb in the big, fluffy bed and Jeff snuggles next to me. He wraps his slender arms around me and I immediately drift off to sleep.

***

“Merry Christmas, gorgeous,” Jeff’s croaky, sultry morning voice rings in my ears like church bells. He kisses my forehead, his scruff brushing against my skin. I squint my eyes at the bright sun bouncing off the snow and flooding our suite.

“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” I curl up closer to his warm body. I close my eyes and bury my face in his chest, “Has anyone told you that you look like Santa Claus with your beard?” I laugh and kiss his collarbones.

“Every damn day on social media,” Jeff chuckles. He moans softly at my touch. I stop and hold out my left hand, my vintage gold band shimmering in the light.

“Just had to make sure I wasn’t dreaming,” I smile.

“You ain’t dreamin’, sweet girl. You’re going to be my wife,” Jeff kisses me and strokes my hair. He climbs on top of me, our naked bodies still cloaked in the beige comforter. He buries his face in my neck, leaving sloppy kisses.

“Daddy,” I whimper.

“Yeah, baby?” I hold his face in my hands.

“Nothing, I just like looking at you. You sure are pretty. What do you say we have a little fun before going back to Mom and Dad’s?”

“I would want nothing more,” I reply as Jeff pulls the blanket over his head and begins kissing down my body. I giggle with delight as his beard tickles me. Best. Christmas. Ever.

Tag list: @negans-attagirl @jdmbbycakes @iluvneganandjamie

[msjr0119]

We Belong

Part 11 - Heaven (continued)

Evangeline Bruley returns to Cordonia to take over her families Duchy. She was betrothed to the now King, however he is engaged to Duchess Riley but still has lingering feelings towards his first love. What will happen during her time back in Cordonia?

Just using combined tag list- if you want to be removed just let me know 😊

@pedudley @kacie-0156 @loveellamae @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @yukinagato2012 @dcbbw @qammh-blog @nz1091 @cordonianroyalty @custaroonie @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @princess-geek @jared2612 @desiree---1986 @gardeningourmet @twinkle-320 @queenjilian @forthebrokenheartedthings-blog @princessleac1 @scarletreesex

Warnings: Drama sorry not in this chapter 😉...FLUFF! What is wrong with me? I never do a full chapter of fluff, now I’ve done two 🤣, swearing, matchmaking friends 🙌🏼, smut.

This parts in two parts- click the continue link at the bottom to finish the part off 😊

Characters belong to Pixelberry apart from OC’s; Duchess Evangeline Bruley and Duke Tobias Farbridge.

*****

Drake and Evie woke up the following morning. Both feeling content in each other’s presence.

“Morning.” Drake said as he stretched his arms. They had a slight bit of cramp in them as he held Evie tenderly all night.

“Good morning. Thank you for staying.”

“No need to thank me, Evie.”

“Can I plait your hair now?” Smirking at him, she saw the horror written across his face.

“No chance! We’re not kids now. I only let you two mess with my hair and paint my nails because you ganged up on me. I was thinking....”

“Thinking about when you’ll allow us to do it again?” She laughed before seeing the serious expression he was providing her.

“No. We have time to go to the graves before the bachelor and bachelorette parties later.”

“That’s today? It slipped my mind!” Fuck I need to go to the hospital.

“Yeah, I mean you don’t have to go- Savannah won’t be offended. But I have no choice. Shoot me now.”

“I’d rather not shoot you. Quick get out of bed then, we have a busy day.”

*****

Arriving at the graveyard, luckily they were all buried near each other. When the two of them rushed out of bed, they quickly wrote a letter each; one for Jackson and one for Evie’s parents. On route, the stopped by a shop and bought a teddy each as well as a balloon.

Jackson Walker, beloved husband and father to Drake and Savannah.

“Hey, Dad. I hope you’re up there still looking down on us all. Sav is getting married tomorrow, I hope you’ll be there with her on her big day. Bartie looks the spitting image of you everyday that goes by. The main reason for me coming today, was to let you know that you was going to be a grandfather again. However life didn’t work out that way- I hope you are looking after mine and Evie’s baby, no dipping it’s pacifier in the whiskey though! No wonder I took a liking to the brown liquid.” Evie placed her hand on his shoulder, laughing at Jackson’s antics- before kneeling next to him, intertwining her fingers with his. This little gesture gave him the encouragement to continue.

“I miss you so much Dad, I hope I am making you proud- even though I have made some mistakes. If I do anymore please give me a kick up the ass. I love you, I always will do.” Placing the teddy bear on the grave, along with the fresh flowers he had bought in memory of his father- he wiped away the tears that were rolling down his cheek.

“My little baby, I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you or your Mom. I am going to feel guilty for the rest of my life. I keep imagining what you’d have been like- obviously you’d have got your mom’s looks, and quite possibly her intelligence. But I’d have taught you skills that you need to know; including how to make s’mores. You can’t beat s’mores. I love you, I always will do.” Standing up, Evie pulled him into a hug. They lingered there for a while before making their way to her parents graves.

Duke Alexander Bruley and Duchess Michaela Bruley. Parents to Evangeline, both sadly missed.

“Hey you two. I bet you are ready to berate me. I can’t help it if danger likes to follow me. Surely? I’m just like a magnet. So Liam got married, Savannah and Duke Bertrand are getting married tomorrow. I know how you loved weddings Mother. When my time comes to get married, I hope that you are both there with me- in spirit. I wish you could walk me down the aisle father. Drakes here with me, you know the spare heir to our Duchy. I bet he’s glad that I survived.” Playfully nudging him, he held her. “Myself and Drake started a relationship, and I was pregnant. We lost our baby, but we hope that the both of you as well as Jackson are looking after your grandchild for us both. I miss you both so much. I wish I could just spend five minutes with the two of you if god gave us that chance.” Drake kissed her on the forehead, as she fought back the tears.

“To my little angel, I’m so sorry for not being there for you. For not protecting you like a mother should do. Daddy and I love you, we always will do. If you was a girl, you’d have been treat like a princess. If you was a boy, Daddy would have insisted on turning you into a Boy Scout before you could walk. Between myself, Daddy and Auntie Savannah we would have smothered you with love and attention. I love you.” Placing another teddy bear next to her parents grave, the two of them held on to the balloon before releasing it together.

“Thank you for doing this.”

“We both needed this closure, Drake. It was a sweet idea.”

“I better get to the palace, do you need a lift anywhere?”

“Could you drop me off home, I better find something to wear for tonight.”

“Of course I can.” Holding hands, they both slowly walked back to Drakes truck.

Do you think they’ll work things out?

Jackson you know as well as we do, that was the main reason you helped us get her out of that arrangement.

Yes and we are forever grateful for that, Jackson you knew before anyone did- they were too close to be just friends.

*****

Evie arrived at the hospital. She decided to go to there then straight to Ramsford for the bachelorette party. Spending as little time at home as she was on a tight schedule.

“Duchess Evangeline, it’s good to see you. If you are ready- please follow me into my office.” Evie nodded as she followed Dr Hussain.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine considering I was stabbed and had a miscarriage.” Raising her eyebrows at the doctor, he gulped- he knew she would find out one day and was now regretting that this day had finally arrived.

“I’m sorry for the deceit Duchess Evangeline. The king and Duchess Olivia didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I went against hospital protocol and I feel awful for it. Do you have any questions regarding that or the wound?”

“Why did I miscarry? Was it due to that?”

“There are many reasons why women miscarry...”

“So it wasn’t due to me being stabbed?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Can I have children in the future?”

“I don’t see any problem as to why you won’t be able to conceive in the future. But if you do, I would suggest that you come in for regular scans. Are you planning on becoming pregnant soon?”

“No. I just wanted to know.”

“Would it be okay to have a scan now and have a look at your wound?” Evie nodded, attempting to hold the tears back.

*****

Bertrand and the men all met at a local bar in the capitol, he wasn’t one to let loose- but the men, especially Leo - had got the Duke drunk very quickly.

“Drake... I ... loveee your sister ... so much... I’m going... to look after her.... don’t you worry.”

“Good, because if not...”

“I know... you’ll beat the shit .. out of me...” Bertrand responded in between hip cupping.

“No, Bertrand. I’ll just never trust you again.” Leo and Drake assisted the Duke to sit down, as they did Bertrand was swaying before being sick all down himself.

“Liam get him some coffee, or he’s never going to make it to the wedding. And for a treat for the rest of us, I have a surprise. I’d like to introduce you to Brandy.”

“Leo, you know you’re the only single one here. I’d like to keep my bollocks thank you.” Liam smirked at his older brother.

“Drakes single too. C’mon you miseries- it’s bachelor night tradition to have a stripper!”

Drake shook his head, those words were technically true- he was single. But he wouldn’t do that to Evie.

“I might be ‘single’ but I don’t want to see another woman naked infront of me.” Liam pulled Drake to the side, as Leo looked frustrated at all the loyal men.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah why wouldn’t it be?”

“I heard that you slept at Evie’s last night...”

“I’m still in the doghouse Li. I don’t know if she will ever forgive me. We went to our parents graves today- sent a balloon up to the sky for the baby. Everything just hurts so much. I’m jealous of what you and Riley have- we could have had that if I didn’t fuck up.”

“Evie will come around. Why don’t you and I take Bertrand back? Did Savannah leave anything last night by the way?” I know she did, I just want to know why you haven’t mentioned it.

“Why would she leave anything?”

“Nevermind.”

*****

Evie arrived at Ramsford later than expected, out of breath she announced her presence as she barged through the door- all the women gawking at her as if she had grown ten heads. Savannah smiled softly at her.

“About time! Where the fuck have you been?” Olivia snapped at her, before pulling her in for a hug.

“Ouch! Why have you got daggers on you? It’s a bachelorette party! And I’ve been at the hospital- you know checking that the miscarriage was fully over- the miscarriage that you all kept from me.”

“Evie, I’m sorry. We didn’t know what to do.”

“It’s fine. I’m here now.” Riley overheard the conversation, feeling guilty that she was carrying a healthy baby.

“Hey.”

“Hey look at you... what are you feeding my niece or nephew?”

“Your niece is craving anything and everything.”

“It’s a girl?” Riley nodded, Evie bent down to Riley’s growing bump. “Hey darling, it’s auntie Evie here. We are going to have to convince your parents to call you Evie- what do you think?”

“I think you’re delusional, they are calling her Olivia!” The three women stood together talking about potential names for the future crown princess. Kiara and Penelope joined in, Evie suddenly felt an awkward situation occurring.

“Bonjour Evangeline, how are you doing? I’m so sorry about what happened.”

“Je vais bien merci d'avoir demandé. Tu n'es pas en colère contre moi Es-tu?”

Kiara pulled her in for a hug, no one knew what Evie had said apart from Kiara.

“Pourquoi serais-je en colère contre toi? Parce que je suis tombé amoureux de Drake. Il était à toi avant. Je ne veux pas que cela affecte notre amitié.”

“Myself and Drake would have never worked out, he was clearly in love with you all this time. I’m not angry. It’s not going to affect our friendship.” The women around them now were grateful for Kiara speaking English for once- now they understood what the conversation was about between the two intellectual women.

Savannah joined the circle, explaining that they were all going to have a pampering session.

“How are you feeling about tomorrow Duchess Beaumont to be?”

“Evie, I’m shitting myself. But it’s my day. I’ve been waiting for this day to come for ages. I wanted to ask you something...” Evie waited for her to elaborate, assuming it was going to be Savannah’s way of digging for gossip after she left abruptly last night.

“Will you be my maid of honor? We’ve always been like sisters in my eyes. You looked after me as if I was your younger sister. All my favourite memories are of us two, especially when we bullied Drake.”

“I haven’t got a dress?”

“I bought you one incase you said yes. It’s upstairs.”

“I’d love to be your maid of honor Sav.” Savannah’s eyes lit up, feeling relieved that she had accepted.

The night went by, the women socialised drinking mocktails- So Riley didn’t feel left out. As the women left one by one, there was only Savannah and Evie left- they took the opportunity to try the dress on. Luckily it was a perfect fit, flaunting all Evie’s assets.

“You look beautiful Evie!”

“I’ll second that.” Turning around, she saw Drake stood in the threshold.

“What are you doing here?” Savannah asked her brother, hoping he had heard her as his eyes were locked onto Evie.

“I came to inform you that Bertrand has passed out, but don’t worry. Luckily he didn’t get chance to see the stripper that Leo had organised.”

“I hope you didn’t either Drake!”

“Why? He’s single.” Evie said in a stern voice.

“That’s what Leo said, you don’t need to remind me Evie.”

“I’ll leave you both alone for a bit.” Savannah smiled at the two of them, hoping this wasn’t going to be the second wedding where neither was talking to each other.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you. I didn’t mean it in a nasty way.”

“Evie, we aren’t all like Leo. You should know that from my eighteenth.”

“When I offered for us all to be your strippers...” Drake nodded, before they both began laughing at the memory.

“I’ll see you tomorrow beautiful.” Drake didn’t want to leave her, if anything he wanted to scoop her up in his arms and stay with her again. As he left Evie looked at herself in the mirror, beautiful- the way he said that word pulled on her heart strings.

*****

Evie had decided to stay the night at Ramsford due to her new role with the wedding, getting up early- she prepared Savannah a champagne style breakfast.

“Aw Evie, you’ve done all this for me?”

“You have to start off your wedding day in style Sav! Eat up, then I’ll do your hair and make up like old times.” They did as they planned, Evie assisted Savannah into her lacy dress before exiting the room to get ready herself.

“You look beautiful princess.. I’m sorry I can’t be there to walk you down the aisle. I know Drake will be the proud big brother doing this role. I love you Sav.”

“Dad?”

“I’ll be there with you on your special day. I love you....”

“I love you too.” Crying as she looked at herself in the mirror, she was glad that Evie used waterproof mascara.

“You look beautiful Sav. Are you ready?” Drake asked as he walked into the room, Evie following shortly after. Turning to face her brother and maid of honor she noticed how Drake had his arm around her waist.

“Wow look at you two. Drake you look dashing, and Evie- are you trying to upstage me?” Pulling the two of them in for a hug, she whispered to the two of them that she loved them both.

“I’m ready to become Mrs Beaumont. With my two favourite people beside me. Let’s go!”

*****

“I now pronounce you man and wife, Duke and Duchess of Ramsford.” Liam said with a grin, before cheers erupted throughout the room. Bertrand lent down kissing his bride, his new wife with passion- he wasn’t sure if it was Savannah that had flooded his senses making him feel drunk or if he was actually still drunk from the previous nights antics.

During the ceremony, Evie sat in between Drake and Maxwell- towards the end of the ceremony Drake placed his hand into hers.

“You’re going to have competition now, with who’s the most beautiful Duchess in Cordonia.” He whispered into her ear. “I was going to compliment you on how handsome you look- but I’ve changed my mind.”

“I take it back, there’s no competition. It’ll always be you.”

“It better be too. I think you’re needed for family photos, I’ll see you at the reception.”

*****

The guests all gathered around for speeches, all praising the newly married couple. Afterwards the guests mingled with each other, Drakes eyes watched Evie’s every movement- Liam noticed and shook his head.

“Why are you sat with us? Go and speak to her.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about your Majesty.”

“Drake, your eyes are following Evie around. Why not make your legs do that too?”

“Okay agent bossy pants!”

“Queen bossy pants, Walker. Do as I command. You don’t want to piss off a pregnant Queen!”

“Your majesties, I hate you both right now, because you are both right. I need to talk to her.” Liam pat him on the shoulder, providing him with an encouraging smile. Handing him a whiskey, Liam knew that his friend was cutting down on alcohol- but knew he would need a bit of Dutch courage. Drake ambled towards Evie, Olivia and Bastien after doing a detour via the DJ. It’s just Evie, you love her- you know she has some love for you. Stop being a nervous wreck.

“Drake, take a seat son.”

“Thanks Bastien, but I just wanted to talk to Evie....” The three of them waited for him to continue, but the words failed to escape from his lips.

“Walker come on she hasn’t got all night. Just spit it out.” Gulping, he took a deep breath.

“Duchess Evangeline, may I have this dance?” Holding his hand out to her, she smiled- standing up he placed his arm around her waist as he guided her towards the dance floor.

“There’s no music yet. We look idiots stood here. You’re smiling, a lot more than usual. What’s up?”

“I requested the next song- I hope you like it, the lyrics mean something to me, to us. Hopefully you’ll understand. It’s my sisters wedding day, even though I’m not thrilled with her choice- Bertrand has stepped up though. He makes her happy, so the protective big brother is happy.”

Oh thinkin' about all our younger years

There was only you and me

We were young and wild and free

Now nothin' can take you away from me

We've been down that road before

But that's over now

“I hope that roads over now, Evie I hope that you’ll forgive me?” Looking into her eyes, she noticed sorrow and hope. Cupping his cheek, she provided him with a smile.

“I already have done. I just don’t want to rush into things like we did before and for it to fuck up.”

“It’s not going to, you are my priority. I don’t have to look after Sav now. Just you and I. I don’t want anything to take you away from me again.”

You keep me comin' back for more

Baby, you're all that I want

When you're lyin' here in my arms

I'm findin' it hard to believe

We're in heaven

And love is all that I need

And I found it there in your heart

It isn't too hard to see

We're in heaven

Even though it was Savannah’s and Bertrand’s day, everyone gathered around watching the two of them slowly dance, whispering to each other as they gazed lovingly into each other’s eye.

“Congratulations baby.” Bianca interrupted the silence.

“Thank you Bianca.” Ignoring her mother’s presence, she focused her gaze towards her brother instead.

“That’s no way to speak to your mother.”

“I will speak to you how I like. You are lucky that Liam allowed you to come. You are not ruining my day. You are not going to mess mine or Drakes lives up anymore. Have a look at your son, MOM. He is trying his hardest to get his rebuild relationship after all the hurt you caused. Can’t you see how much he loves her?”

“He may love her darling, but she’s not right for him...”

“She is perfect for him... I’ve never seen him smile this much...”

“He did with Riley...” Maxwell interrupted whilst overhearing the conversation. Savannah gave him a stern look, encouraging him to change the subject. “Why don’t we all go and join them. Turn this song to the more upbeat type, the DJ Sammy version- have a dance-off?”

“No, leave them to have this dance alone. Don’t you agree Duchess Savannah?” Liam stood along side Savannah, placing a comforting arm around her waist- whilst sternly looking at Bianca. He was ready to defend anyone that Bianca came in contact with - hoping that his kindness wouldn’t be taken advantage of.

“Yes, your Majesty. Leave my brother and Evie to have this dance. Mom, if you want to make amends- get help. Prove that you want to change, before you lose everyone and everything. Evie is potentially going to be your daughter in law one of these days.” Everyone looked at Savannah wondering what she knew, she wouldn’t bring that up without a reasoning. “Accept the fact that your son loves her and forget this vendetta. The only person that has been in the wrong all these years is you- no one else.” Bianca felt all eyes on her for a split second, before they reverted to Drake and Evie. The guard took her to the nearest table to sit down, offering her a drink of water.

“Who are you?” Bianca jumped, believing her imagination was playing tricks on her. Being sober, this scared the shit out of her. “You are not the woman I fell in love with. That woman would be encouraging her son to be happy with the woman he has always loved.

“You knew? All this time...”

“Yes, I knew a few days before I left you all. He will never forgive you if he lost her. Michaela and Alexander have forgiven you. Evie has forgiven you for everything. As our beautiful daughter said, make amends.... before it’s too late...”

“Jackson....”

“Do the right thing Bi... I need you to... you owe it to everyone..until we meet again, my love.”

And love is all that I need

And I found it there in your heart

It isn't too hard to see

We're in heaven

Oh once in your life you find someone

Who will turn your world around

Bring you up when you're feelin' down

“You’ve been in my life all these years, every time I’m with you- you bring my smile out. I’ll wait an eternity to get what to what we was, if you want that.” Drake whispered to Evie, he knew he was potentially sounding desperate with everything he was saying, but he needed her to know that he was committed to them both.

Yeah nothin' could change what you mean to me

Oh there's lots that I could say

But just hold me now

'Cause our love will light the way

Twirling her around effortlessly, she turned back to face him- standing on her tip toes, she pulled him towards her and kissed him on the lips in a small yet warm smooth. Sparks flew in every direction, and the world slowly disappeared around them. Hoping that this kiss was the beginning of all of their worries and troubles becoming distant memories, possibly starting a fresh. Their lips were moving in perfect sync, breaking the kiss- they turned to face everyone who were silently cheering them, all wearing the same smile as if it was a reflection from a mirror. His hands returned towards her waist; pulling her closer, as he lent down for another kiss - this time it was deeper, more passionate. Unexpectedly he lift her in the air, as he spun them around- holding her tightly, she held on to him tightly before he put her back down onto the ground. Wrapping his arms around her again, she rest her head onto his chest as they began to sway to the music.

And baby, you're all that I want

When you're lyin' here in my arms

I'm findin' it hard to believe

We're in heaven

Yeah and love is all that I need

And I found it there in your heart

It isn't too hard to see

We're in heaven, yeah

“Neither of them have mentioned about Paris. Do you think they were stalling? Waiting to see what happened between the two of them?” Riley asked Liam, as they watched their two friends hold each other lovingly on the dance floor.

“I’m not sure? I’d have assumed Drake would have mentioned something even if Evie didn’t. I hinted to him but he seemed clueless.”

“I’m surprised Maxwell hasn’t blurted it out yet. Do you think they will get back together? Officially?”

“I hope so, I hope Biancas actions haven’t prevented that from happening. Before we go on our honeymoon in a couple of days, why don’t I talk to Drake and you talk to Evie?”

“Can I talk to Drake? I know him more than I do Evie. You talk to her. Who knows tonight they may go back to what they were.”

“If they don’t, I’ll talk to Evie and you talk to Drake. I love you my Queen.”

“I love you too my king.” Holding Riley, he placed one hand over her growing bump.

I've been waitin' for so long

For somethin' to arrive

For love to come along

Now our dreams are comin' true

Through the good times and the bad

Yeah I'll be standin' there by you

“Through the good times and the bad... how many more bad times do we have to go through?” Tears began to form in Evie’s eyes as she reiterated the lyrics, thinking back to what the two of them had suffered over the years.

“Hopefully none, but I’ll be standing by you at all times.. I’ll protect you, and love you for the rest of my life.” Sounding sincere, she didn’t want to be stubborn and give up what they once had. It was the happiest she had ever been, and she assumed it was with him.

“I love you Drake Walker.”

“I love you too Evangeline Grace Bruley.”

And baby, you're all that I want

When you're lyin' here in my arms

I'm findin' it hard to believe

We're in heaven

And love is all that I need

And I found it there in your heart

It isn't too hard to see

We're in heaven, heaven, oooh

You're all that I want

You're all that I need

“You’re all that I want and need, don’t you forget that. Thank you for the dance Duchess.” Kneeling onto one knee, he kissed her stomach, letting it linger there for a moment.

“I wish things were different...” He whispered, hoping that no one heard him.

“Drake, Evie?” Hearing her voice, Drake immediately stood up in front of Evie protecting her.

“What do you want? Are you drunk?”

“Son, I’m a horrible person. I’m sober. I’m not allowed to drink. It was the condition that I had to keep to in order to attend my daughters wedding. I’m sorry for all the hurt I’ve caused. I know that isn’t going to be enough. Evie?”

“Yes?” Bianca moved closer to her, Evie noticed sorrow in eyes. Placing her hand on Evie’s arm, she flinched- not understanding why as the woman was surrounded by guards.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Drake forced his mothers hands away, not wanting to cause a scene but needing to protect the woman he loved.

“I’m sorry. Evie I know my words will never be accepted, and I’m not blaming my alcohol addiction for my past actions. But I truly am sorry for all the hurt I’ve caused; for the death of your parents, for hurting you and my grandchild.”

“Our baby wasn’t your grandchild. You don’t deserve the title of grandmother.”

“Drake!”

“Evie, she doesn’t deserve your sympathy.”

“Savannah and Bertrand doesn’t deserve you both causing a scene on their special day. Bianca, thank you for your apology. It’ll take time to forgive you, but I will never forget.”

“Can you help me? I need help...”

“Only you can help yourself.” Evie gave Drake a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for the dance. I’ll talk to you later.”

*****

The night came towards an end, and everyone began to retire to their rooms. Drake picked Maxwell up as he was that intoxicated he couldn’t remember his own name.

“Who are you?”

“Drake. You know who I am.” Maxwell’s drunk mind started to function.

“You’re going to Paris.”

“No I’m not. But you’re going in a cold shower if you carry on talking shit.”

Once he had assisted Max in his bed, he headed towards Evie’s room- they never got the chance to talk after their dance and conversation with Bianca. Knocking on the door, he hoped that she would answer.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

“I just wanted to make sure you got to your room okay, and to say goodnight.”

“I haven’t been drinking that much so it would have been slightly embarrassing if i couldn’t figure the way to my room.”

“Fair point. Anyway, goodnight.” Drake kissed her on the cheek, before he could escape- she dragged him into her room by pulling on his tie.

“Stay with me? Let me lay in your arms?”

*****

Continue here

[serahsanguine]

What’s Left Unsaid, Says It All

What’s Left Unsaid, Says it all part 7/?

Rating; NC-17, NSFW

This Story can be found at  Ao3

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part5, part 6 

Tagging; @peacenik0  @today-in-fic

p.s. if you would like updates and be tagged please let me know :)

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

Chapter 7;  Family Where Life Begins & Love Never Ends.

Scully woke up, slowly and groggily, to the sound of not one but two crying infants and her mind began to race with worry. Were they OK? Was something wrong with them?

She opened her eyes, sat up and looked around the room scanning it like the mama bear she was now, trying to find where the noise was coming from. She noticed her mother Maggie and sister Missy standing in the corner of the hospital room, they were each holding a baby and trying desperately to calm them both down, to no avail.

"Mom? Is everything OK? Why are they crying like that?" Scully asked, concerned.

"Yes! Everything's fine, Dana. They're just very hungry and they miss you. They miss their mom... I'm so proud of you, honey. You were so strong and brave and now you have these sweet, little babies to care for"

"Can you show me how?" Scully asked, in a small whisper as her cheeks began to flush. She felt extremely awkward and shy about asking for help but remembered that her mom had told her that she had successfully breastfed two of the four children.

Maggie walked over and placed Scully’s son in her arms, being careful to support the head before grabbing a pillow to rest under her daughter's arm and grandson.

Scully carefully lowered her top and unclipped her nursing bra, revealing her left breast.

"OK, Dana, bring him to your breast... make sure to support his neck, shoulders and back" Maggie said, clearly and calmly so Scully could follow her instructions, step by step "Now place his nose level with your nipple..." as she did, her little boy opened his mouth and latched on perfectly.

"You're a natural," Maggie said, smiling and leaving her daughter to feed her grandson in peace while she tried to help Missy with her brand new granddaughter.

Several hours Later

Missy and Maggie had left about twenty minutes ago because it was getting late, and visiting hours were over. Scully was now alone, in her private room on the maternity ward, with her two babies fast asleep in their crib next to her.

She looked at her slumbering daughter first; skin pink and soft, eyes shut showing off her long eyelashes, sweet heart shaped lips a rosy colour, she was so dainty and the way her tiny fingers opened and closed near her chubby little cheek was mesmerising and then looked over at her son, he was the mirror image of his sister except that he definitely had Mulder's nose, long legs and plump pouty bottom lip, his forehead scrunched up in thought, he looked so picturesque and pure. They were both so perfect.

Scully turned away from them, laying her head back against the large soft pillow and stared up at the boring white hospital ceiling. Her eyes were stinging from the tears unshed and her mind wandered to Mulder and what kind of father he would be (that's if he wanted to be one). She could picture his face lighting up when they called him Dada for the first time or when either of the twins took their first steps towards him, could imagine it all. They're whole lives together as a happy family but they weren't and this was all a daydream that would never become a reality and for that Scully was sorry, so very very sorry... to Mulder and their children.

She looked at her babies again one looking identical to her and one looking identical to Mulder. Scully would tell them about him; about his brilliance, his strength and his undying determination for family, compassion and loyalty. And one day if they choose to, when they were older, she would not stop them from finding him. They deserved to know their father and he deserved to know them. She can only hope that one day they would all forgive her... and that she'd be able to forgive herself for such a terrible decision made in sadness and fear.

She quickly fell asleep again... until their next feeding, in an hour or two.

12 hours later

Melissa and Maggie were back at the hospital, to help Scully out and were currently fussing over the two little ones, while their mother sued the bathroom.

Maggie looked up at her daughter, as she walked back into the room, grandson fast asleep in her arms. "Have you thought of names for these little people, who are so adorable, that we can’t keep calling them baby boy and baby girl can we, Sweetie?"

"Yes, Mom. I have chosen names" Scully answered, shaking her head.

"Wanna share with the rest of the class, Dan’s?" Melissa said with a mock sound in her voice and a smile on her lips.

"Well, I'm naming my little boy William Jeremiah. Williams first name is after both sets of grandfathers. Plus, it's also Mulder’s middle name and it just feels... right" Scully paused, looking at both of them for reactions. So far so good she thought "And I am naming my little girl Ellissa Claire, ‘Ellie' for short," she said, finishing her sentence.

"Oh... they're both such beautiful names, Dana," Maggie said looking down at the tiny baby boy all wrapped up in a blue and yellow blanket "Hello, sweet William"

Scully smiled as little William started squirming for another feed. Melissa was holding her niece Ellie, and sitting on the sofa looking out across the city of San Francisco.

The Next Day.

Maggie was sitting on a comfortable old, winged armchair in her newly acquired hotel room waiting for Scully to call and tell her that she had been discharged from the hospital, the twins were doing amazing so there was no reason they couldn't come home today. She sat there pondering the idea of phoning Mulder, not necessarily to tell him about the birth of his children even though she really wanted to tell him but to, in fact, tell him that she had indeed finally seen her daughter and that she was doing OK in her new life. She picked up the landline and dialled his home phone number, she had come to learn it from all of the times she had rung Mulder to check up on him over the past two and a half months. She was getting especially worried these last two weeks because he stopped coming around and answering the phone, she could see that he was in pain and didn't want him to do anything too drastic. The phone rang and rang until finally, she got his answering machine, letting out a small sigh before listening to the beep and leaving a message for him.

"Hello. Fox, it's Maggie. I just called to let you know that I have finally seen Dana and she is doing well, I promise. I know you miss her but you need to give her time to get her life back together before you try to contact her. Please don’t do anything you may regret later... I worry about you. I will call in a couple of days to check up on you. Goodbye for now" with all that needed to be said Maggie put the phone back down on the receiver, staring at it for a moment longer before thinking about how lucky her daughter was to have a found a man that cared enough that she had to get involved. She was feeling defeated but would not give up on him, in hope that he would not give up on himself, or on Dana and their little family.

Maggie got up to go down to the hotel restaurant but was stopped short at the door by a call from Scully to come to pick them all up from the hospital. When she asked what her daughter meant by ‘all' Scully simply said that apparently, she had actually broken a couple of Melissa's fingers. Maggie laughed quite a bit in response to that revelation.

Ten minutes later Maggie had arrived at the hospital, and walked up to Scully's room with two infant car seats in each hand, ready to take her two daughters and her two grandbabies home. She put down both car seats and strolled over to the crib to look at them, and found little William, dressed in a fluffy white all in one button up onesie, with a grey alien on it with the words "I am going home" printed underneath, Maggie smiled as she picked him up and rocked him back and forth in her arms and looked over at Scully who was in the middle of feeding Ellissa.

"Honey, who brought William’s outfit?" Maggie questioned, curious.

"Mulder" Scully answered, smiling but there was an obvious sadness behind her blue eyes.

She gave her daughter a puzzled look "But I don’t understand, why did buy it if he didn’t…"

"It's a long story mom but the gist of it is, he thought he brought it for a friend of mine and I ended up keeping it," Scully said, cutting her mother off before the conversation became too much emotionally.

"Oh, OK" Maggie was still confused by the whole situation but didn’t want to push the matter any further for fear of upsetting her daughter.

Scully looked away, the memory of the conversation she had had with Mulder flooding her mind. He had bought two matching outfits for her ‘friend’ and she asked "why?" and his reply was "I thought they were cute and it's a nice gift" then quickly added "plus the aliens are the right colour" and Scully had hidden a giggle at the time. She smiled now, as she looked down at her beautiful little girl with her brown hair, blue eyes and pale skin.

Ellissa sighed, letting Scully’s nipple go with an audible pop before closing her eyes and falling asleep. She looked over at her Mom, who had already put William in one of the car seats and was happily snoozing away too. Scully quickly fastened the latch on her bra and pulled her top up, and passed her Ellie to her Maggie for her to strap in the other car seat, while she got her belongings together and re-packed her bag to go home.

When everything was all packed, Missy picked up the car seat cradling William with her good hand while Maggie opened the door and carried the bags. Scully took one last look around the hospital room, picked up the car seat Ellie was in a blissful look on her little face, and then looked down at her daughter, whispering "I’m sorry your dad isn’t here, sweet girl... but I love you so much. Let’s go home" and walked out of the hospital room softly closing the door behind her, so she didn't wake the babies up.

November 1993, one month later

Ellissa and William were almost to one month old now and things had been very eventful over the past month. The first few days after bringing them both home from the hospital, there were constant feedings and absolutely no sleep for Scully but she quickly adjusted to this new life. And Maggie helped where she could, especially for the first few days while Melissa recovered from her hand injury bur after a week of staying with her two daughters she had to leave San Francisco and go back to DC.

Scully was trying her very best to get out of the apartment, as often as she could, with the twins while Missy spent her days at work to help pay for their new life in San Francisco. She often took them to the local park, even though they weren't old enough to go on any of the play equipment yet, it was still nice to spend time outside in the fresh, crisp and clean winter air with hints of cinnamon and coffee from the local street vendor situated in the middle of the park.

On this particular day, Ellie was fast asleep in her bassinet of the double baby buggy pram but William was starting to stir in the bassinet next to his little sister. Scully looked around and found the nearest bench so she could sit down, pick up her infant son and give him some much needed cuddles. As soon as William was against Scully’s chest she could feel the warmth of his heartbeat, and new baby smell which was mixed lavender, she thought could easily get addicted to that smell if she let herself. He slowly stopped squirming against her and closed his eyes lulled by his mother's heartbeat against his own.

Scully sat there thinking about how her life had changed so much in the last year, she thought about how much her children were changing before her eyes and had already changed so much since their birth a month ago. It felt like only yesterday they were born and now they were looking at faces, cooing with "ooh" and "ahhs" and she even got her very first real smile out of Ellie yesterday which warmed her heart and made it swell with contentment. She suddenly noticed time had got away from her and put William back in the bassinet and walk them back home.

December 1993; the twins are two months old.

Scully arrived at Maggie's house with Melissa and the twins in tow, they had all flown back east for the Christmas holidays.

The six hour journey across the country was "fun" both babies screaming because of the initial pressure in the cabin but soon, thanks to a lovely older woman named Dorothy, Scully found that if you rub the soft spot behind the babies ear it helps soothe them.

When Scully and Missy attempted it on both babies, they stopped crying almost immediately and slept through the last four hours of the trip AND the cab ride from the airport to her mother's but the twins were wide awake and very active just in time to see grandma again.

A couple of days later, Maggie and Scully were sitting on the carpet in front of the 6ft Christmas tree with red, green and gold baubles and silver tinsel and twinkly lights wrapped around it with a delicate gold painted wooden Angel on top, with an open fire flickering nearby (a metal fire guard up so Will and Ellie didn't get anywhere near it).

Missy was out doing the last minute Christmas shopping that needed to be done for the Scully family feast. The twins were fast asleep in a bassinet together (they slept better together Scully had found) while Scully and her mother were talking about what had been going on since they last saw each other.

"How have the twins been? They seem very active, Dana" Maggie mused.

"Yeah, they are... they started sleeping better when I put them in the same crib and have started accepting bottles from Melissa now, which she is happy about because she enjoys spending time with them" Scully said, smiling at the memory of the first time Melissa got William to accept a bottle without her help.

"Oh, I bet she was. You probably don't remember this but Missy wanted to be your mom when we first brought you home, she would follow me everywhere and tell our church friends that you were hers and they had to ask to hold you"

"I didn't know that. Wow, that really changed when we grew up, huh?"

"Yes, that happens with sisters but you're best friends now. Are you still breastfeeding, Dana?"

"I am... and I pump when I can, of course," Scully answered.

"That’s good, sweetheart. I assume Ellie and Will meeting their milestones on time?"

"Yes, Mom, they are. William..." she put emphasis on his full name because Missy kept calling him Will and her mom had picked it up "is responding to my voice now and smiling, he is also trying to hold his head up occasionally. Ellie is gurgling and cooing in her own sweet language, I sometimes wonder if they understand each other... the looks they share. Oh, and she also smiles and responds to my voice, too"

"That's brilliant news" Maggie beamed, causing Scully to smile (teeth and all) at the compliment on her ability " I also see my grandchildren are starting to look like each of their parents"

"What do you mean mom?" Scully asked, puzzled by the comment.

"Do you really not see it, Dana?" Scully shook her head, so Maggie continued "Well, Will has your lovely red hair and your gorgeous big blue eyes... and Ellie has quite a large quantity of brown hair on her sweet little head and I swear I can see her eye colour changing too"

"What? Don’t be ridiculous, mom!" Scully let out a small, semi-annoyed huff.

Scully didn't want to talk or think about him right now, it was hard enough to look at them every day and not want to break down in tears, without having it pointed out.

Maggie could see her daughter physically wince at the thought of Mulder but she would never lie to her, even if it made it her uncomfortable.

"Sorry, it's just that... well, I spoke to him the other day. I think he's OK, he might be a little lost right now... but OK" Maggie smiled weakly at her daughter trying to reassure Scully, though they both knew she was lying. It was the thought that counted.

Maggie could see her daughter's eyes were fighting back eminent tears and felt kind of bad but it was better than she knew. Dana gave her a small smile, then got up and wandered over to watch her slumbering children for a moment, and if she were being honest she needed a second to pull herself together.

A few days later it was finally Christmas.

Maggie, Bill, Tara, Melissa was holding Ellie and Charlie was on the floor watching William wriggle on a soft Sesame Street play mat, were all sitting around the living room opening up presents. The twins were dressed up in Christmas outfits; Ellie was in a little red tulle dress and William was in a matching little red Santa suit and both outfits had the words 'my first Christmas' written on them.

Everybody kept fussing over the twins, especially the women of the family. It was the first that Tara was meeting them, and Maggie and Melissa were gushing about how clever they both were.

Bill had asked on several occasion about the father of the twins; Scully had said it was complicated and ignored the snide remarks about being unwed and the children not having a dad or a proper family to be raised in. She was going to enjoy her first Christmas as a mother, no matter what.

The twins were given plenty of presents, in fact way more than Scully knew what to do with. Ellie kept reaching for the wrapping paper and putting it up to her mouth, attempting to suck on it. William was very relaxed, he was just looking around at everyone confused about all of the fuss that was being made about this day. Maggie managed to record everything on videotape and when the present were done, the food was consumed... everyone had retreated to their respective rooms.

Scully was laying on her childhood bed thinking about Mulder and what he was currently missing out on. She also wondered what he would be doing this Christmas in her absence, if anything at all. Scully sighed, closed her eyes and fell into a fruitful slumber.

January 1994; the twins are now three months old.

Scully was bouncing Ellie on her lap, listening for her sweet little laugh that had started happening a few days ago, and would now happen every time she bounced her daughter. It had become addictive, even more so when William would join in. There was something magical about the sound of both of her children giggling. It made her ache inside with happiness.

One bounce, two bounce... laugh. One bounce, two bounce... laugh.

Scully looked down at her daughter, who was the spitting image of Mulder now; her eyes had turned from a light blue to hazel colour, her curly auburn hair was just past her long eyelashes, and it all stood out against her extremely pale skin.

Scully bounced Ellie a couple more time before Will began to cry out for her attention.

"Okay sweetie, mommy has to go get your brother quickly but then I will be right back" Scully cooed, as her daughter looked up at her confused when she put her down in the playpen with a few soft and educational toys.

Scully went to retrieve William, who was screaming bloody murder down the corridor in their shared bedroom.

"Hi, little man. I take it you've woken up hungry. Let's see what we can do something about that, shall we?" Scully said, picking William up and started singing to calm him down until she could feed him. "Jeremiah was a bullfrog, was a good friend of mine. I never understood a single word he said... but I helped him a-drink his wine"

William stared up at his mom's face, smiling and then laughed at her bad singing but it kept him from crying and so she carried on

"And he always had some mighty fine wine. Singin'... joy to the world, all the boys and girls now, joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea, joy to you and me"

Scully was still singing as she walked through the hallway and back to the living room, sitting down holding William as she undid her top, plus her bra and started feeding. She carried on singing when she noticed Ellie smiling at them from her spot on the floor of the playpen.

February 1994; the twins are now 4 months old.

Scully's birthday arrived. She took the babies to visit her mom for the week, leaving her sister Melissa at home because they needed a break from each other as they were stepping on each other toes.

William and Ellissa dealt with the flight much better this time around, now that they were a little bit older and they had toys to distract and keep them happy while in the air.

William had just cut his first tooth which was a nightmare in itself and Ellie was nearly there but still a little ways off.

When they arrived at the airport, Scully placed them in their stroller to claim their luggage and then got a cab to her mom's. It was late evening when they reached her childhood home but the twins were still very active and Maggie played peek-a-boo with Ellie making her giggle, as soon as William heard his sister he joined in which made Scully and her mother laugh too.

Several hours went by of Maggie playing with the twins.

Scully had just given them both a bath, fed and changed them, placing them in there travel cots and was about to read them a story even if they didn’t understand it much.

Maggie was standing in the hallway listening to her daughter tell the story.

"Once upon a time, there was a very handsome prince called Fox..."

"Da-Da" William babbled, adorably.

"Yes, baby. Da-Da" Scully said, running a finger across his chubby little cheek.

Maggie was surprised, because she hadn’t heard either of the twins actually say a word until now but stayed quiet and carried on listening to Scully.

"He was lonely and heartbroken, because he had lost his sister to another magical kingdom in their realm and he hadn't seen or heard from her in many, many, years. One day a beautiful princess was riding through his kingdom but her horse was sick and she asked the prince for his help, but he was too stubborn to help her and refused to look at her, telling his servant she could stay the night but that she wasn't allowed to bother him. What she didn't know, was when she turned her back he looked at her and realised how pretty she was... but before he could speak she was gone" Scully looked down at the babies. William was fast asleep but Ellissa was still listening and looking at her with wide, curious eyes "The very next morning the princess got up and went to breakfast, but the prince Fox stopped her in the Hallway and said ‘Sorry my milady, I was very rude to you last night' and she answered ‘It's fine Lord Fox, I accept your apology'. She smiled at him and he looked at her in a way no one has ever looked at her before but she couldn't explain why and then he spoke again ‘You can stay as long as you need while your horse recovers, I will send a squire for the veterinarian' she replied with a polite ‘Thank you, Lord Fox,. You are too kind'. ‘What is your name milady?' the prince replied causing the beautiful princess to smile and tell him that her name was ‘Katherine'"

Scully sighed and stopped talking, looking down at both her babies again and realised that Ellie was asleep now, so she quietly pulled the wool blanket over her children to keep them warm.

Maggie quickly walked over to her room, quietly shutting the door so she wasn't caught eavesdropping on such a private moment.

Scully heard the door to her mother's bedroom close but didn't dwell on it. She was tired so she left the babies room and walked into her own while stripping off her clothes and changing into her pyjamas, blue silk short and tank top set and slid under the covers on her bed. She lay there staring out of the small window to her right looking at the dark sky and glowing stars, tomorrow was her birthday which meant a whole year had gone by since she had first met Fox William Mulder (the man of her dreams, the father of her children, her soul mate). It was the day that changed her life... for the better.

She began to remember that night, the intensity of it, the way she took control.

Standing on her tiptoes as she placed her mouth against his and he, in turn, pushing her against the wall, his hands gripping her hips roughly. Could remember feeling his erection against her inner thigh, opening her mouth to let his tongue slid against hers.

Oh god, what that man could do with his tongue was amazing all of those sunflower seeds coming into practice. She felt a fresh wave of dampness pooling between her legs, looking around she was grateful that the door was closed, that the twins were asleep and could she really do this in her childhood bedroom with her mom opposite and her children next door. It had been so long since she even felt like this, her heart was thumping loudly in her chest, sweat from anticipation forming on her cold skin. She slowly slid her hand under her top moving it slowly across her skin as she mimicked his movements from that night, imagining they were his hands

running lines on the underside of her breasts and then moving up towards her nipples, becoming hard under his touch, rubbing them... flicking and toying with them, tongue circling each nipple with feather like touches, nipping at it as the fingers on his other hand rolled the nipple so it didn't feel left out of the fun, switching between them and repeating the same process over again.

Scully's breathing became erratic, her breasts were pretty sensitive already but since getting pregnant and breastfeeding they were even more so. She knew it wouldn't take long now, she moved her hand down from her breast down her stomach, slipping her delicate hand underneath the hem of her silk pyjama shorts AND her panties finding herself hot, sticky and swollen immediately dipping her finger in and around her outer lips imagining it was him

cock slowly sliding through her arousal before finding her entrance, sliding in... out, in and out, walls clutching him in her warmth like a vice

She always felt complete with him inside her

slipping in and out, her walls contracting and tightening, a signal for him to go harder and faster

Her finger moving faster and faster against her clit, bringing herself to climax she bit her lip breaking the skin and tasting the blood in her mouth as the ecstasy of release washed over her body, her nerves on fire. It felt amazing but it wasn’t enough, she wanted him and only him. She grabbed a couple of tissues to quickly clean up the mess before falling asleep.

******

Scully was woken up by the sounds of Ellie wanting to be fed but soon heard her mother's bedroom door opening and then the crying stopped. She could hear Maggie whisper

"Shh, sweet girl. Let’s get you changed, do you want some milk... and then we'll go see mommy, huh?"

She sighed, her head falling back on her pillow. Today was her birthday, and she was going to try her very best to be happy, for herself and the twins.

Thirty minutes later, Scully slowly walked down the stairs in a pair of jeans and a black cotton tank top with a sweater tied around her waist. Maggie looked towards the stairs, noticing daughter and looked back at the twins.

"Look who's here..." Maggie cooed at her grandchildren "They've been feed and we just about had tummy time" she directed at Scully.

"Thank you, Mom" Scully smiled and walked into the living room.

William and Ellissa spent the next few hours trying to impress their grandma by doing mini push-ups and attempting to lift their heads up to look around the large room.

Maggie had baked a cake the day before and went to get it from the fridge, she came back with it a minute later, singing Happy Birthday which the twins thought it was very amusing and watched as Scully blew out the candle, making a secret wish. After they ate some cake, she spent time playing with Ellie and William before beginning their nighttime routine, which involved Scully bathing, feeding, changing them and putting them in separate travel cots before continuing her fairy tale story from the night before.

"Katherine had been staying at Lord Fox' Castle for a couple of days now. And even though when they'd first met she thought he was a big bad meanie, she very quickly ended up becoming his friend. Sadly, her treasured horse, Queequeg, was not getting better but actually much worse as the days passed. Lord Fox asked if the princess wanted another horse but she explained this one meant a lot to her as it was from her parents. Days turned into weeks, and she didn't realise just how much she was falling in love with the prince, she came to call her best friend... well, not until one special day when they were having a picnic in the royal gardens, his chestnut hair caught the sun and she admired him more then she should. Their hands touched for the very first time that day an electricity sparked between them. She did not think it was wise to act on her feelings not unless he was willing to marry her. More weeks passed and they grew closer and closer. So close, that Katherine's... Mother and Father came down from their kingdom by the sea to meet Lord Fox. They liked him just as much as the young princess did, soon after they arrived the prince asked her father's permission for her hand in marriage and he approved. The very next day he proposed and two weeks after that there were married in a beautiful wedding, full of golds, silver and flowers. It was like something out of dream, the princess and prince were so happy they were finally together and that nothing would ever stand in there way. And they lived happily ever after" Scully finished, releasing both children were sleeping. She soon drifted off in the rocking chair holding a hand out to each of them. Scully needed to feel connected to Mulder, and their beautiful babies were the perfect way to make that connection.

April 1994, the twins are now 5 and half months old.

Spring was finally in the air, turning cold days into slightly warmer ones and daffodils were starting to bloom and Easter was just around the corner.

Scully had been attending bounce and rhyme and story time session at the local library which consisted of reciting simple songs and nursery rhymes with William and Ellissa.

She found it was a really good way to meet other parents and a good opportunity for the babies to mix socially with other children their age, to learn new things in an educational environment... and it made her feel less alone. Ellie and Will were doing amazing, hitting all of their milestones head on.

William had just started rolling over from his tummy onto his back (Ellie had been doing it for a few weeks) and they were both now supporting the own heads and sitting up with cushions. Will appeared to have a fascination with eating his feet and toes while Ellie, on the other hand, kept giving him disgusted looks. They babbled frequently in their own little alien twin language, and they could now both say the word "Dada". Scully thought it was cute that they knew who he was, but it also hurt because he wasn't there and she was starting to miss him terribly. Over time she briefly even contemplated moving back to DC or possibly ringing him and asking for his forgiveness but thought better of it as time went on.

Scully was looking forward to their first Easter together. She wanted to celebrate by getting Melissa to dress up as an Easter bunny but was told in polite terms "to fudge off" because the only bunny she was dressing up as was the slutty version but that wasn't going to stop Scully. Maggie was coming to visit from DC, so they could go to Easter Mass together, as a family and then hide little chocolate eggs around the house and go hunting for them, but not too much chocolate because she didn’t want either of them getting a sugar rush, that was the last thing she needed. William and Elissa were already rambunctious enough as it was.

May 1994, the twins are now 6 months old.

Scully, Ellie, William and Melissa had all gone down to see Maggie for the weekend.

Maggie and Missy had gone grocery shopping for some much needed food because the twins were starting solids.

Maggie was making small containers worth of sweet potato and veggie mash and various fruit purees, amongst other delicious things for them to try and hopefully enjoy.

Scully was getting the twins ready, putting on there light jackets and baby shoes.

Ellie was dressed in a pale yellow springtime dress with a small ¾ white cardigan, while William was in a pair of light blue jeans with a pale yellow t-shirt with a small grey alien on the front. Scully was really into matching baby clothes, and did her best to have them in a similar style.

"Hey! Ellie, stop hitting your brother... I need to get his coat on and it’s not very nice"

Ellissa smiled sweetly at her mother and proceed to try and hit him again.

"Ellissa Claire! I said... NO!"

The little girl looked up at her mom with tears forming in her eyes and started to cry

"Oh, Ellie..." Scully picked William up and placed him in the double stroller and strapping him in, she gave him a toy to keep him entertained "Shh. Everything's okay, sweetie. I'm sorry, mommy didn't mean to shout. It's just not very nice to hit your big brother, or anyone else. It hurts, OK?" she apologised. Ellissa looked up at her mother, snuggled into her chest and slowly stopped crying.

Scully took that as her cue to put her in the stroller and go for a walk in the park.

Meanwhile same time outside and a couple of doors down from Maggie's house;

Fox Mulder was sitting in his government issued silver sedan which was full of empty food wrappers, aeroplane sized whisky bottles and some dirty clothes. He was planning to visit Maggie a couple of days ago but what he saw, he definitely was not expecting. Now he sat there staring out of the windscreen into the empty street remembering what had happened.

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

Mulder had just got out of his car from the space where he parked a couple of doors down from his normal spot just in case Scully suddenly turned up because he didn't want her to recognise the car and run away again. He was just one door down from Maggie's house when a taxi pulled up onto the driveway and through the window, he spotted her familiar red hair, so he quickly darted behind the biggest bush he could see and watched on.

Melissa got out the taxi, immediately went to the trunk carrying the luggage and there was so much of it for only two people. Next out was a small beautiful exquisite redhead and that’s when he realised it was Scully, it was his Scully and his heart began to pound in his chest, blood pressure going from zero to a hundred in about 30 seconds. She was as beautiful as ever, hadn’t changed a bit in the months they'd been apart. He had an urge to run to her and wrap his arms around her, but he forced himself to stay perfectly still, not to make a sound and continued watching the scene in front of him.

Melissa hurried inside with bags in tow, as Scully leaned inside the taxi, he could not stop smiling or staring at her ass, so perfect so round he shook his head trying not to think like that. because his jeans were becoming uncomfortable, stirring a deep longing desire for her to fill her completely and never let her go, again.

He couldn't see what she was doing inside the taxi but less than five minutes had passed and Scully pulled out a car seat with a small infant inside sleeping the day way. She carefully placed the occupied car seat on the grass, before reaching back into the taxi to remove another car seat with yet another sleeping infant in. Mulder noticed that one of the small babies had red hair and thought "Wow, Melissa's had twins" he wasn’t really expecting that, she didn’t even look pregnant when he saw her last in DC. Mind you, he was too angry at her to even notice if she was or wasn’t. Obviously, he had missed it. He watched Scully with curious eyes as she picked up both car seats with each hand and wandered inside her mother's house. He couldn’t see Maggie, not now that Scully was there. Mulder didn’t want her to run, this was not the best time so he left his hiding spot and bolted back to his car, jumping in and speeding back home.

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

Mulder was soon brought back to reality when he heard Scully singing "Jeremiah was a bullfrog, was a good friend of mine. I never understood a single word he said, But I helped him drink his wine" he quickly ducked down out of view and carried on listening to what was happening outside. He heard laughing and babbling come from two small infants and quickly realised she was taking her niece and nephew out.

Scully started singing again "Joy to the world, all the boys and girls now. Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea. Joy to you and me!" and he heard more giggling and laughing and the sound of stroller wheels moving in the distance.

Mulder's mind was made up he had to follow her, had to see her and speak to her. So he waited five minutes before, exiting his car and following her down the street as quietly as he could.

He followed them to the nearby park, remaining out of sight the whole time but close enough that he could hear everything.

Scully picked up the little girl, hung a blanket on the swing and placed her inside and repeated the process, unclasping the little boy from the stroller and placing a blanket behind the little boy in the baby swing opposite and slowly swinging them both, one at a time and making sure not to get to high. The infants were laughing and squealing with delight as Scully them and Mulder took a moment to enjoy watching the view before him. Scully was laughing and enjoying herself with these two babies, and suddenly couldn't shake the feeling of what if this was what he could have had with her. The dream suddenly springing into his mind, the one of him and Scully and their daughter... of them, as a family playing and running around in a field, in the midsummer sun carefree and not being chased by monsters or ghouls.

He kept staring at these two little children; the little boy coincidentally looked identical to Charlie as a child with the red hair and big blue eyes and turned his attention to the little girl with long brown hair and hazel eyes, not quite green and not blue either.

Mulder was brought out of his reverie, when the little girl looked directly at him and felt his hair stand on end, it felt like she was looking into his soul and then she spoke to him.

"Da-Da!"

Mulder looked at this child and thought "Wait, what did she say? Why does she think I'm her dad? Why does Melissa's daughter think I'm her dad? Maybe I just look like her dad? It was possible! He kept staring at this little girl, fixated on her but then he saw Scully move towards the little girl so he quickly hid again and continued to listen.

"I’m sorry, sweetie. But your daddy’s not here, remember?"

"Da-Da!"

"Ellissa, your Dada's not here... he doesn't even live around here," Scully said, trying not to get emotional.

Mulder could hear the way Scully's voice wavered, as she spoke to this little girl and if he didn’t know any better he would say it sounded like she was about to cry or was already crying.

"Mama!"

"Yes, baby. I’m here..."

Listening to this a shock wave hit Mulder. There's no way he could've of heard that right, silently pleading with this adorable little girl to say it again.

"Can you say Mama again, Ellissa?"

"Mama!"

"Good job, baby. Mama's right here and she's not going anywhere"

OH MY GOD, this cannot be happening Mulder thought. The realisation hitting him like a 40-ton Mack truck, they weren't Melissa children at all.... they were Scully's. It all made sense now, she was unfaithful and was sleeping with someone one else. It's why she moved away and didn't want anything to do with him. She'd gotten pregnant and had given birth. Scully had children! Mulder was suddenly very angry and upset that she had lied to him, because he trusted her. She had told him that she loved him and it was a lie.

Looking up, he saw Scully turn around to look at where Ellie had been saying "Da-Da" and darted out from his hiding spot leaving the park, mind in anguished turmoil and heartbreaking and bleeding in his chest. But he needed to know more, needed answers to his long list of questions about what had happened and why and if Scully wasn't going to answer them, not that he trusted her now anyway not after what she had done to him. Well, he was going to get answers regardless, so he pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and dialled speed dial number two.

"Frohike, it's me. Turn the tape off... NOW!"

To be continued...

[pinkletterday]

Legends 4x3

Okay so after the fucking Flash kicked my heart in the nuts and left me to die last week, my soul needs an ice pack to numb the pain. Not in the mood for bullshit, folks.

I mean in no mood for wank. This show is some top-shelf bullshit.

Already bracing for Americans trying to speak English. I'm not excusing any of the British Empire's atrocities but every time an American tries to imitate an English accent, I feel kinda sorry for them.

What the fuck is that voice. DOLORES UMBRIDGE IS THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

Ah, the Crown Jewels. Or as we of the former Raj like to call them, Loot.

...

...I see they've started pumping the Beebo-grade crack through the writer's room air vents early this season.

I have no love for the House of Windsor but the Dolores Umbridge shaking her bum at me is giving me conflicting feelings.

Guys. You are way overestimating the importance of the monarchy on UK politics. For one, Scotland and Ireland have been trying to get rid of that dog leash for years, it would stopper the largest welfare drain on the British tax payers and force them to find a better tourist attraction than a houseful of barmy inbreds who get paid to wave at idiots.

It is possible I have some feelings about the British Monarchy. I'm sorry, Americans. I understand you sacrificed one of your own to them recently.

Nate and Ray watch Patrick Swayze movies together. Good to know good to know.

So Zari's sacred totem is now a sacred FitBit? Eh, why not.

RED ALERT SARA LANCE IS IN A TANK TOP WOMAN ALL STATIONS!!

I don't understand why these are supposed to be bad guys. LEAVE THE SMELL ALONE.

Gerard Way is evil?

Jesus fuck how does Caity Lotz work the Roxette hair so damn well???

Oh don't look like that Sara. "So the Legends walk into a bar" is now a historical punchline. Let the one who cast the first beer bottle stand in judgement - no wait that was you.

Lolololol work it Ray work it! Brandon Routh is the most adorable comedy gold mine.

Goddamn I did not know there would be this much UST between Mick and John Con.

You know it's bad when MICK RORY is concerned for the team's survival.

Gary stop being so embarrassingly heterosexual.

Blawks. Blawks.

BLAWKS.

OKAY MY EMBARRASSMENT SYMPATHY SQUICK CAN'T TAKE THIS I'M MUTING TILL ITS OVER.

Look so far I am 100% behind the punks. Not only are they gorgeous and revolutionary and anti-kyriarchy, that Indian girl can also get it anytime anywhere arré shawash meri jaan ok this devolved somewhat.

You want people to Rage Against The Corgis?

RAY STOP TRYING TO TALK BRITISH MY EARS TRY TO CRAWL BACK INSIDE MY SKULL EVERY TIME YOU DO.

"The pooch seems to have fallen in with a bad crowd" Loooool

YO NO HEALTH AND HYGIENE IS ALSO VERY IMPORTANT TO THE PUNK MOVEMENT. DISCO IS NOT THE ONLY ONE PRO-STAYING ALIVE. THERE IS NO GLORY IN SEPSIS.

Mate, it's Liverpool. We could drop you in 1423 and you'd still somehow find Liverpool like due fucking North.

Is he hitting on Dr. Who's next companion?

!!!!! MUM!!!!!!

Yes Zari we all have regrets now.

I don't care about Nate and Amaya I need more Constangreen deets!

But oh way to twist that knife dude, damn Gary.

I see the CGI department are going to town with the extra two dollars in their budget.

"DECLAN IS CUTE" RAY PALMER IS OFFICIALLY QUEER THIS IS CANON NOT A DRILL ALL SHIPS ARE GO

Corgi mohawk. Of course it is. OF COURSE.

There's a FAILSAFE? Does Barry Allen know?

So I guess the grandfather paradox is officially off the table? No?

Ok but what if you kicked a bucket out under a ladder or something that would precipitate a chain reaction that killed one of your ancestors? Would you still find yourself flat on your back in an unfun way, no buckets harmed?

I will say, as far as self-loathing goes, that's a pretty inventive way of committing suicide. But then who among us has not wanted to punch our Dads in the nuts so hard we would never be born? Show of hands!

Okay then. I guess its just me and you, Constantine. Awks.

Your past is coming for you? It would have to catch up to your lungs, your liver and Mick Rory, mate.

RETURN OF THE DISCO OUTFITS I AM SCREAMING YESSSSSS LORDDDD

Okay! Listen, Disco was a black music movement that was an expression of African rebellion against capitalism and white supremacy until it was demonized and then co-opted by white people like everything fucking else black people has ever come up with including yeeting. Why do you white punks think you're better than them?

I never associate Abba with Disco, despite all the sequins. Now Boney M. Donna Summer. Bee Gees. Fucking Prince. I love Abba man, but they don't rate within the genre.

Not being Irish isn't a past, bruv. It's a lack of one. A literal dodged bullet in the 1970s. Fuck off.

Oh my Lord stay forever my beautiful Brown Girl In The Ring.

I love Maisie but this South Asian representation is giving me feelings. I'm going to show up for every kind of diversity but I miss seeing my own people on my screen so much, y'all.

LOL mixtapes.

I hadn't realized Ray and Amaya were close at all. Did they ever have a partnered episode?

I thought the team's moral compass was Ray.

This whole "having to go hard to feel my own shape" thing is seriously relatable to my neurodivergent ass.

"Squad save the queen" Sara you aren't even trying.

I think there is some truth to the discontent rising from the Avalance faction that Sara is somewhat lacking in weight and complexity thus far. Give my captain her due, writers.

Oh woooow Ray Palmer is showing some TEETH.

To be fair, I too get that excited about lunch.

Gar-bear. *pained look*

Of course the one plant Gary managed to pick up would turn out to be friggin' Audrey II.

Nate in hot pursuit after a rogue potted plant, livin' his best life.

Aw man. Bad bitch!Ray was actually Charlie. That makes sense, I guess. *grumbles*

MAISIE!!! WITH HER REAL HAIR AND ACCENT!!! HI MAISIE WE MISSED YOU!

Sigh. Goodbye beautiful brown goddess. I hope you come back.

Lmaoooo Ray what the fuck is that face??

Lmao I love how the rest of the office is just clacking away peacefully in the background. Bust up with a man-eating Venus Sandwich-Trap in cubicle 17? Okay well, send a memo to HR.

Aww Nate. Oh no. You poor sod.

Hey Sara you wanna give a guy a heads-up on something that is very definitely gonna end up in a colossal heartbroken clusterfuck? No? Okay.

Ah finally. Some lesbian nookie...that is off-screen.

Ava: "how do you herd cats?"

Sara: "you don't."

And we’re done. An uneven episode and a distinct lack of Gerard Way or actual Disco but it got the job done!

[hamiltongolfcourses]

The Best Quotes on Fatherhood

Fathers tend to be taken for granted.

We invariably make more of a fuss over Mom on Mother’s Day than Dad on Father’s Day, for one.

Dads are like a steady but less sentimentalized institution — the sun in our familial sky that warms and gives life but isn’t much thought about unless he goes missing.

Yet this belies the enormous impact fathers truly have on their children; while a dad’s nurturing may often take the form of playful roughhousing and silly jokes, his influence is quite serious and significant: the presence of a loving father greatly increases a child’s chances of success, confidence and resilience, physical and mental well-being, and yes, quite naturally, their sense of humor.

One of the manifestations of the way we take fathers for granted is that there exist many more quotes about Mom than dear old Dad (and even fewer about fathers and daughters). To make more accessible those great pearls of wisdom that do exist, we searched high and low for the very best, and created this ultimate treasury of quotes about fatherhood. These short quotations provide great prompts for reflection; typically, we’re so busy plowing ahead that we don’t pause to look up and get a “birds-eye” perspective on things — taking the time to ponder what our own dads meant to us, and the way we’re shaping, and should be savoring, our kids right now.

Quotes About Fatherhood

“You don’t raise heroes, you raise sons. And if you treat them like sons, they’ll turn out to be heroes, even if it’s just in your own eyes.” –Walter M. Schirra, Sr.

“Some dads liken the impending birth of a child to the beginning of a great journey.” –Marcus Jacob Goldman

“One father is more than a hundred schoolmasters.” –George Herbert

“Sherman made the terrible discovery that men make about their fathers sooner or later . . . that the man before him was not an aging father but a boy, a boy much like himself, a boy who grew up and had a child of his own and, as best he could, out of a sense of duty and, perhaps love, adopted a role called Being a Father so that his child would have something mythical and infinitely important: a Protector, who would keep a lid on all the chaotic and catastrophic possibilities of life.” –Tom Wolfe, The Bonfire of the Vanities

“The best way of training the young is to train yourself at the same time; not to admonish them, but to be seen never doing that of which you would admonish them.” –Plato

“The nature of impending fatherhood is that you are doing something that you’re unqualified to do, and then you become qualified while doing it.” –John Green

“One of the greatest things a father can do for his children is to love their mother.” –Howard W. Hunter

“To a father growing old nothing is dearer than a daughter.” –Euripides

“If there is any immortality to be had among us human beings, it is certainly only in the love that we leave behind. Fathers like mine don’t ever die.” –Leo Buscaglia

“That is the thankless position of the father in the family—the provider for all, and the enemy of all.” –J. August Strindberg

“Every father should remember one day his son will follow his example, not his advice.” –Charles Kettering

“Son, there are times a man has to do things he doesn’t like to, in order to protect his family.” –Ralph Moody

“A boy needs a father to show him how to be in the world. He needs to be given swagger, taught how to read a map so that he can recognize the roads that lead to life and the paths that lead to death, how to know what love requires, and where to find steel in the heart when life makes demands on us that are greater than we think we can endure.” –Ian Morgan Cron

“Parenthood remains the single greatest preserve of the amateur.” –Alvin Toffler

“My father didn’t tell me how to live. He lived and let me watch him do it.” –Clarence Budington Kelland

“When you’re a dad, there’s no one above you. If I don’t do something that has to be done, who is going to do it?” –Jonathan Safran Foer, Here I Am

“‘Why do men like me want sons?’ he wondered. ‘It must be because they hope in their poor beaten souls that these new men, who are their blood, will do the things they were not strong enough nor wise enough nor brave enough to do. It is rather like another chance at life; like a new bag of coins at a table of luck after your fortune is gone.’” –John Steinbeck, Cup of Gold: A Life of Sir Henry Morgan, Buccaneer, with Occasional Reference to History

“If the past cannot teach the present, and the father cannot teach the son, then history need not have bothered to go on, and the world has wasted a great deal of time.” –Russell Hoban

“There are many kinds of success in life worth having. It is exceedingly interesting and attractive to be a successful business man, or railway man, or farmer, or a successful lawyer or doctor; or a writer, or a President, or a ranchman, or the colonel of a fighting regiment, or to kill grizzly bears and lions. But for unflagging interest and enjoyment, a household of children, if things go reasonably well, certainly makes all other forms of success and achievement lose their importance by comparison.” –Theodore Roosevelt

“Father!—To God Himself we cannot give a holier name.” –William Wordsworth

“We think our Fathers Fools, so wise we grow; Our wiser Sons, no doubt, will think us so.” –Alexander Pope

“His values embraced family, reveled in the social mingling of the kitchen, and above all, welcomed the loving disorder of children.” –John Cole

“Children are a poor man’s riches.” –English proverb

“It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.” –Frederick Douglass

“A girl’s father is the first man in her life, and probably the most influential.” –David Jeremiah

“Fathers, like mothers, are not born. Men grow into fathers and fathering is a very important stage in their development.” –David Gottesman

“Father of fathers, make me one,

A fit example for a son.”

–Douglas Malloch

“I believe that what we become depends on what our fathers teach us at odd moments, when they aren’t trying to teach us. We are formed by little scraps of wisdom.” –Umberto Eco

“My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother would come out and say, ‘You’re tearing up the grass.’ ‘We’re not raising grass,’ Dad would reply. ‘We’re raising boys.’” –Harmon Killebrew

“Until you have a son of your own . . . you will never know the joy beyond joy, the love beyond feeling that resonates in the heart of a father as he looks upon his son. You will never know the sense of honor that makes a man want to be more than he is and to pass something good and hopeful into the hands of his son. And you will never know the heartbreak of the fathers who are haunted by the personal demons that keep them from being the men they want their sons to be.” –Kent Nerburn

“When my son looks up at me and breaks into his wonderful toothless smile, my eyes fill up and I know that having him is the best thing I will ever do.” –Dan Greenberg

“Being a great father is like shaving. No matter how good you shaved today, you have to do it again tomorrow.” –Reed Markham

“It is easier for a father to have children than for children to have a real father.” –Pope John XXIII

“When I looked at you first I saw not your mother and me, but your two grandfathers . . . and, as my father, whom I loved a great deal, had died the year before, I was moved to see that here, in you, he was alive.” –Peter Carey

“Dads are most ordinary men turned by love into heroes, adventurers, story-tellers, and singers of song.” –Pam Brown

“‘Father’ is the noblest title a man can be given. It is more than a biological role. It signifies a patriarch, a leader, an exemplar, a confidant, a teacher, a hero, a friend.” –Robert L. Backman

“Noble fathers have noble children.” –Euripides

“The father who does not teach his son his duties is equally guilty with the son who neglects them.” –Confucius

“No man can possibly know what life means, what the world means, what anything means, until he has a child and loves it.” –Lafcadio Hearn

“I cannot think of any need in children as strong as the need for a father’s protection.” –Sigmund Freud

“A father is a man who expects his son to be as good a man as he meant to be.” –Frank A. Clark

“His father watched him across the gulf of years and pathos which always divide a father from his son.” –John Marquand

“A family needs a father to anchor it.” –L. Tom Perry

“Words have an awesome impact. The impression made by a father’s voice can set in motion an entire trend of life.” –Gordon MacDonald

“Children need models rather than critics.” –Joseph Joubert

“A father is someone you look up to no matter how tall you grow.” –Unknown

“Certain is it that there is no kind of affection so purely angelic as of a father to a daughter. In love to our wives there is desire; to our sons, ambition; but to our daughters there is something which there are no words to express.” –Joseph Addison

“Mostly you just have to keep plugging and keep loving—and hoping that your child forgives you according to how you loved him, judged him, forgave him, and stood watching over him as he slept, year after year.” –Ben Stein

“Life doesn’t come with an instruction book — that’s why we have fathers.” H. Jackson Browne

“Fathers, you are your daughter’s hero. My father was my hero. I used to wait on the steps of our home for him to arrive each night. He would pick me up and twirl me around and let me put my feet on top of his big shoes, and then he would dance me into the house. I loved the challenge of trying to follow his every footstep. I still do.” –Elaine S. Dalton

“A good father is one of the most unsung, unpraised, unnoticed, and yet one of the most valuable assets in our society.” –Billy Graham

“When you teach your son, you teach your son’s son.” –The Talmud

“My father always said there are four things a child needs: plenty of love, nourishing food, regular sleep, and lots of soap and water. After that, what he needs most is some intelligent neglect.” –Ivy Baker Priest

“Like so much between fathers and sons, playing catch was tender and tense at the same time.” –Donald Hall

“By profession I am a soldier and take great pride in that fact, but I am also prouder, infinitely prouder, to be a father. A soldier destroys in order to build; the father only builds, never destroys.” –General Douglas MacArthur

“The lone father is not a strong father. Fathering is a difficult and perilous journey and is done well with the help of other men.” –John L. Hart

“Children of the new millennium when change is likely to continue and stress will be inevitable, are going to need, more than ever, the mentoring of an available father.” –Ian Grant

“The quality of a father can be seen in the goals, dreams, and aspirations he sets not only for himself, but for his family.” –Reed Markham

“Fathering is not something perfect men do, but something that perfects the man.” –Frank Pittman

“Never fret for an only son. The idea of failure will never occur to him.” –George Bernard Shaw

“My son is seven years old. I am fifty-four. It has taken me a great many years to reach that age. I am more respected in the community, I am stronger, I am more intelligent and I think I am better than he is. I don’t want to be his pal, I want to be a father.” –Clifton Fadiman

“Some day you will know that a father is much happier in his children’s happiness than in his own. I cannot explain it to you: it is a feeling in your body that spreads gladness through you.” –Honore de Balzac, Pere Goriot

“A child enters your home and for the next twenty years makes so much noise you can hardly stand it. The child departs, leaving the house so silent you think you are going mad.” –John Andrew Holmes

“Every parent is at some point the father of the unreturned prodigal, with nothing to do but keep his house open to hope.” –John Ciardi

[hollybear009-blog]

~MY STORY~

Hi! My name is Holly. I'm 26 years old. I'm Jewish. I am known to be the only member in my whole family that is Jewish. My family is originally Catholic & Christian, I am NOT any of them, surprisingly. I would really like to explore my Jewish faith & Jewish religion. I would like to learn how to speak the Jewish language (Hebrew & Yiddish right?), & learn how to Practice the Jewish ways. That'd be GREAT! I am a 100% REAL person & 100% NOT FAKE person behind the computer & internet, no need to worry or fear about that. I'm a REAL person! No Worries! I am "questioning" myself again (sexual orientation). I'm very confused about it! Drives me CRAZY!!! I always try to make everyone & everything happy in whatever way possible. If they're not happy, then i'm not happy so i do what i can to make them all happy, & accepting of me too. I laugh like a hyena. I think my spirit animal is a wolf, cause i have some wolf in me. I can howl like a wolf, growl like a wolf, & i feel the inner WOLF in me! I'm NOT saying this to be crazy or anything. I've noticed that I'm like a wolf too. I love the woods. I'm a HUGE SUPPORTER & FAN of Hillary Clinton. I am a HUGE Cat & Kitten (pets & animals) FAN too! We've always had them as our pets. We have two cats right now named Buddy & Kiwi. We adopted them from animal shelters. We adopted one cat who was later sick & had to be put to rest in Heaven, & crossed the Rainbow Bridge December 5, 2005! His name was Simba. I miss him sooooooo much! I'm glad that he's not suffering anymore though. I just miss him very much! Rest In Peace Forever Simba! We miss & love you very much! We've lost other family members too that really broke my heart. My grandfather died December 5, 2009, my grandmother (his wife) died September 5, 2014 (i think), a few days after my Birthday (which is September 2nd). I miss them both so much too! And I miss my other deceased family & pets too very much! I'm glad that they're not suffering anymore.I still miss them terribly! Rest In Peace Forever all of you! We miss & love you very much! *tears up sadly* My eye color is dark-green & my hair color is dark-brown, and shoulder-length. I'm overweight, but dieting to lose the weight. I'm 5'3 height too. My fave colors are black, white, gray (grey) dark-brown (like my hair color), & dark-green (like my eye color). I have mental illnesses that caused me to hear voices, hallucinate, smell, hear, feel, see, taste, & believe that there is another world where i once was before, even though it's not true or real. It just seems that way. I get a lot of treatment, & care for them, & my other health problems. I have schizoaffective disorder, bipolar disorder, anxiety disorder, depression disorder, etc. I get tact tile issues, premonitions, psychic dreams, déjà vu, & had a "psychotic break" that caused me to be too sick to stay at my job, so i had to leave it behind. The HARDEST thing for me to have to do! I really liked that job. It paid well for me $8.00 an hour, part-time, lunch-breaks, rest-breaks, & very fun to do. I worked in our town's Mini Market called Kennie's Market. I worked there in their deli area. I thought that it'd be hard for me to do at first, but i did it easily! Then the NIGHTMARE happened to me! Been unemployed ever since then. I volunteer at our local, nearby SPCA animal shelter now. I am a really good person. I am shy, funny, innocent, friendly, kind, caring, loving, supportive, anti-social, introverted, have a good, & a loving personalty. I'm just like anyone else. I think of myself as "unique," & "mysterious." I am an English Major who wants to learn more about William Shakespeare, Abraham Lincoln, & the English Literature. My parents are divorced & have been for a long time. They weren't getting along with each other. I had just Graduated High School & got my very first job, at a Mini Market in their Deli area in our town Gettysburg, when they told my twin brother (not alike) & myself that they were divorcing, & that they're not getting along with each other. I became very mentally ill that same year, just after they planned to get divorced. They stayed together for awhile to help take care of me then. Then soon after they actually divorced. I was sent to a Mental Hospital the next year after getting mentally sick in 2008. I don't wanna talk about it right now. Hope that's okay. Growing up I was always bullied by people, who i thought liked me & were my real friends. In high school i was bullied & harassed so bad that i had to switch schools during junior year. I didn't deserve any of that mess & it was for no reason! I even got the same cruel treatment in Creative Writing Class there too, & had to leave the class I was very upset. No one would do anything about it even though they said they would. I switched schools and was still bullied & harassed by others but it was handled by the teacher. I don't have hardly any friends, just one good friend who i grew up with in elementary school. We're still friends, i guess. I wish that I were treated better by people. And I wish that I had REAL & ACTUAL friends, not just my family. I don't know why people aren't nice or don't like me? I'm very friendly, sweet, & funny. And just trying to be a normal person. Shame. . . I live with my mom & pets in Gettysburg. We have two cats named Buddy & Kiwi. And a new pet hamster that i named Harley (Harley Quinn from Suicide Squad & her other comics. I'm a HUGE FAN of her).My dad lives elsewhere with other people, like women he dates. He's currently dating a woman who i really like to spend time with too. She's very nice, funny, caring, & a very good person. I hope that my dad & her stay together forever, if possible. My twin brother (not alike-i only have one sibling in my family) lives on his own elsewhere or with roommates. He's a USA Marine & a Mixed Martial Arts Fighter (MMA). He's my Best Friend & my loving, caring brother! True, we fight a lot & roughhouse sometimes, but we get along mostly. He's a good brother. Just when he tries to wake me up from naps & sleep is very chaotic cause i sleep a lot cause of my medicines i take for my mental illnesses, my regular health issues, & my mental illnesses themselves. I'm still a very good person, i try to anyways. I always put other's happiness before mine, if they're happy then i'm happy too. I love to read mostly magazines, but i do read regular books like Anne Frank, Suicide Squad & Harley Quinn comic books, & other interesting books. I'm not much of a book reader anymore like i used to be years ago. I used to read books & hate writing. My cursive hand-writing is TERRIBLE! I was never good at that writing part. Now I don't read much anymore, but try to do more stories & novels so maybe someday i will be an Author of them. I started doing them in school, even though as a kid i hated writing. My cursive hand-writing is terrible! Now years later, i enjoy writing and would like to be an Author of Books & Poetry again someday. I also like to read Anime/Manga books too. My dream job is being an animal Vet or an animal Vet Tech. I love animals, not insects though. And be an Author of Books & Poetry. My mom and i volunteer at our local, nearby SPCA animal shelter & socialize with the cats & kittens there. We always love doing that when we do. I'd always joke around with my mom about adopting them, too bad we can't cause we already have two cats right now, so we can't adopt anymore cats yet, if we ever do. Oh well. . .We enjoy being around them when we go see them when we volunteer there. I love Photography, just for a hobby. I also love Art too. I'm kinda a kid-at-heart-type of person. I love cartoons & kid-stuff still. I don't watch them or watch much TV anymore though. I like music too. I only listen to music, not play it on any instruments. Though i remember just now that i'd always enjoy playing music on my grandmother's piano years ago. I mostly listen to music though. My fave sports teams on TV are San Jose Sharks, Philadelphia Flyers, Hershey Bears-Ice Hockey Teams, Penn State, Baltimore Ravens, & Ohio State Buckeyes-American Football Teams. My favorite movies are Suicide Squad, James Bond, Titanic, The Horse Whisperer, Band of Brothers, Anne Frank, etc. My favorite Anime/Manga are Sailor Moon, Yu-Gi-Oh!, Hamtaro, Pokemon, Blue Exorcist, Black Butler, Naruto, Inuyasha, etc. My favorite music bands are Evanescence, We are the Fallen, My Chemical Romance, Disturbed, Within Temptation, Bullet for my Valentine, Korn, Godsmack, Breaking Benjamin, Avril Lavigne, Skillet, Avenged Sevenfold, etc. Well Folks. . .I've run out of things to tell you about me for now. If you wanna know more, feel free to ask me anytime!

[tbwtnw]

(*Just a note, didn't get to name Colton's cousin (s) just yet so for at the moment they are gonna be (?) )

TNW Short #2-

….sitting his coffee down on the backroom table, Colton yawned. It wasn't time to open the shop yet, he just liked being around all the books. This shop rightfully became his after he turned eighteen; even though back then he didn't want it or understand what this shop meant to who he was as a person. The history behind it, was once too graphic for him to know but now that he does, he does everything to track down who took his mom, and who took his dad, who he never got a chance to even know. 

Turning on some music on his laptop to fill the silence, he walked around the shop as ‘White Rabbit’ played on the throwback station. Straightening some books on a shelf, a knock came at the front door. Surprised someone would be here this early, Colton finished doing what he was doing and made his way through the shelves to the front glass door.

A figure stood on the other side. Getting a feeling in the pit of his stomach of not knowing, more so as the song on his laptop glitched on some words at the end of that song, ‘...feed your head ...feed your head ...fe--’

Looking back to the door, he removed the shade. A young girl, somewhere around his age, that's it. He let out a sigh. She couldn't be much older than him. “Uh, we’re not open, can you come back later?” She wasn't a regular customer, but any new ones they got was a good day. With just a wide-eyed stare with brown eyes, she stood motionless. Saying nothing,the strange girl walked off. “Huh, ok. Weird. But ok.” Colton said in a state of confusion on what just happened. 

Shaking his head, he walked off, fixing the shelves before opening.

~Across town~

“Is he working there?” Dr.Frederick inquired about as she slammed the door behind her. “What do you think? Oh yeah, you forgot to mention I won't be able to go through with the assassination. He looks normal, he looks completely innocent, grandpa.”

Laughing a low and sinister laugh, not moving from the couch, he spoke again, “He is far from normal, my butterfly. Didn't I show you his mother? You must remember-”

“Whatever, yeah. She and some other experiment of yours escaped and blew up all the hard work you had done, you’ve told me that for years. My parents did too. It seemed to be the only topic I ever remember hearing between you all.” 

Not acknowledging her, he continued ranting on.

“He is just as deadly as they are. He needs to be put down as soon as you can. It took me all this time to track him down again.” He answered, madness seeping in his heavy accent 

“I should’ve killed him as a baby. What an idiot I was to give him to that other one! ”

Slamming a fist on the coffee table. 

“Your problem, not mine. I still don't understand why you let one go; or why you just didn't hire somebody instead of using your own granddaughter..” 

The night went on slowly for her, come dinner time,Rebecca was making dinner for everyone. Handing a plate to her grandfather, she sat down, the news on the tv talking about another robbery the night before.

Fredrick laughed a crazy kind of laughter as he ate. “See my butterfly, i told you, you would be on the tv one day! Do what i say and everything will come to you.” 

Rebecca didnt say much as she, herself ate. She gave a thumbs up. 

Reaching for the remote, he turned the tv down as he looked her in the eye. “I got it my dear.” His voice quivering with exciment. 

With her mouth full, she answered him, not in the least amused as he alwas has an idea. “Go for it, tell me.” Putting her feet up in the couch.

“You go back to that store. In the room downstairs, they have my time-watch..i want you to get that for me. NO need to kill him.”

“The what?!” She spat out, almost choking on her food.

 “The time-watch my dear. Quite simple really. You steal that, your grandpa here can go back and kill him so you don’t have to.”

She stared at him for a few seconds, trying to comprehend what he just said. “That watch hasn't been seen in you said….” “Close to 30 years, I know dear. His mother stole it from me that night she escaped. There's no doubt they are in possession of it now.” 

Putting her spoon down, she thought about it. She could have him do this. She didnt want to actully kill anyone. If he went back and did it, that would make it all the better.

She held a fingar up. 

“IF i do,grandpa. I get the hybrids.” 

With a cold grin, he patted her foot. “Anything for my butterfly.”

A few days after this, Colton, busy with a full house, his cousins working with him. 

“Why the sudden interest in this place?” (?) asked, staring in bewilderment at everyone packed in there.

 “The only thing I can come up with is just luck maybe? Aunt Chrissy said it was packed similar back when it first opened.” 

“Mom wouldn’t know, she was hardly in here. Only a few times after your dad and his friend opened it...But lookit the bright side; more money for us.” 

Folding his arms, Colton sighed,” Yeah, that’s a plus for sure. And plus she was always wasted back then, remember hearing about that one, huh?” Laughing as he went behind the counter to check people out. 

A sudden rapid round of knocks on the back door was loud enough for Colton to hear with all the noise in the shop. Telling the people to have a nice day with a painted grin, he quickly left the counter. 

“Colton! It's Stefano, open the hell up!” Yanking the door open, there he stood, to Colton’s horror, with a gash and dried blood on his forehead and in his arms, the pup.

“What happened to you?!”

“Oh, ya know. Some guy came a-knocking,said he was lost, I told him I was sorry, didn’t know who he was looking for ...Next thing I bloody know? I have a gun to my head as two others came from nowhere and made themselves at home. Michael,he was smart enough to hide this freak in that hidden part in your closet. They ram shacked the place, pocketed what I don’t know oh! and on top of that questioned us and decided it was best to knock me the heck out and just take Michael.”

Continuing his story, Colton hurried behind him, making their way downstairs. “Have no clue who they were, freaks at the best. I just want to find Michael, mate. We have to.”

Nodding urgently, as he unlocked the door as they both made their way down those stairs, the lights turned on automatically in the basement turned room. 

“Ok, uh, sit down…how do you feel? I'm thinking here.” Colton said, grabbing the first aid kit from next to the sink. Stefano slowly sat in a chair as he let the pup down. 

Laughing, he just shook his head, looking at Colton with glassy, bloodshot eyes, his  hair sticking into the dried blood,

“How do I feel? How do I honestly feel? I’ll tell ya.” Leaning over as Colton sat in a chair inches from him, sitting everything on the table, handing him a cold washrag

“Like someone just ripped a big hole in my life, mate. Held a gun, a bloody gun to my head! I could have been killed tonight. But no, they stole everything then take my life with them…and-and I don’t have no clue as to where they are, who they are, or if Michael is still alive or what.”

“Stefano, listen to me. I have no clue who they were either, I know you just went through something horrible..we need to focus right now on you. Can't have you like this if you want to find him. Believe me, knowing Michael, he'd be talking nonstop and they probably kicked him to the curb and we will just find him making his way back to us.” 

Both became silent, before Stefano started laughing, Colton joined in. “God, they are in for something with him.” Colton still laughed as he used the peroxide to clean the gash, Stefano flinching as it stung at first before fizzing up.  

“Did you see what they took?”

“No, just seen them carry in briefcases that were obviously empty and leave with sagging ones. It was no secret.” Colton listened, fixing a piece of cotton on his head before grabbing the medical tape. He knew no one that carried cases. Not even the ones he's sent to jail.

“You didn't see what they looked like or..?” Shifting in his seat, Stefano shook his head.

“No,mate.They had their faces covered in, oh I don’t know, some homemade garbage mask?”

Suddenly, the sound of glass shattering upstairs, made them both jerk their heads. Motioning to be quiet, Colton slowly tiptoed up the stairs, his hands slightly showing sparks of blue. Stefano stayed put, holding the gauze on his forehead.

Slowly turning the knob, the door slightly cracked open. His heart began beating faster. Colton heard the customers cries, he looked down and saw (?) Sitting against the counter, hiding. Seeing Colton, he motioned with a finger to his mouth, pointing with his other hand towards the front of the store.

Colton nodded, mouthing for him to get downstairs to which (?) shook his head no and tried to scoot back more but couldn’t. 

Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Colton mouthed it again, a little sterner. “For god’s sake,(?), get down there!” 

(?) Stalling a bit, he finally cautiously crawled along the floor, until Colton helped him along; grabbing him by his collar of his shirt and hurried him along.

Trying to shut the door slowly, he never heard a sound until he did.

Jumping onto the counter, the ugliest creature, the glass cracking under the weight. Hairless, only pale grey skin. A creature that walked upon all fours like a bear. Realizing, this was an adult version of the one they had down the stair. A deep growl in its throat as it stared in his direction,its eyeless face had the expression of an animal out for blood. 

Slowing raising his hands, ready for anything as the energy crackled throughout them, the creature barked but nothing even close to a dog bark. This was a deep, low bark. Something you wouldn’t want to hear during a stroll in the woods or on the beach.

Out of the corner of his vision, he saw a flash. But before he could react, his back hit the wall hard.

Soon being grabbed by the hair, she was much stronger than he was, given she was shorter too.

"Where is it?" She said. "And don't lie to me." 

“Ow! God! Where, what? I don’t know you!”

“The time watch you idiot. You're lucky that's all I'm here for.” Holding her arm across his throat, she held him against the wall.

Colton looked down at her and realized this was the same girl from that morning a few days back. 

There was chaos as the customers already there tried to run but were stopped in their tracks by a couple more hybrids. 

“I...dodon’t know...what you mean!... God!” 

A struggle took place, as he tried to get control of his hands, the hybrids barking, and the girl who seemed stronger than him at the moment. 

“The watch that controls time? You have it. Your mother had stolen it. You want me to help you to remember?” She said through her teeth. 

Colton’s mind raced as he tried to remenber, he didnt know anything about a time watch. His eyes went wide,knowing thats what those others were after.

An opening for him came as she turned to look at one of the creatures pacing on the side whining. With a free hand, he grabbed her wrist.

Finally letting go with a shout of surprise from the coldness, not from the slight burn on her wrist, she was soon caught off guard as Colton grabbed her in his grasp. 

Blowing his hair out of his eyes, he questioned her in a low voice. “Who..are you? Are you with the ones that robbed my home today? Hm? The ones that took my friend? I don’t think you’re going to find anything here.”  He looked up with his eyes at all the terrified customers, the creatures standing over a few.

A deep growling from a few directions in front of them and to his right, he knew the hybrids were ready to protect her at all costs at a drop of a hat. 

“Call them off, I don’t want to kill them.” He told her.

 “Like hell. You tell me what I want, then I tell you what you want. Huh? That’s a good enough deal, isn’t it? And no one has to die.” Gasping, he tightened his grip around her. Her nails dug into his arms, but he didn’t let go. 

“No, you’re gonna tell me what you want, who sent you and call those freaks back.” 

She stayed quiet, still struggling.  

She finally spoke up as she called the creatures back; they all backed off, some pacing,unsure what was going on.

“The only thing i can speak of, is i do not know who went into your home or who took your friend. I am under no obligation to speak of anything else.”

Colton squinted his eyes in anger, shurgging his shoulders, he said in a flat tone. 

“ok, have it your way then. But until then, you can spend some time with a good friend of mine.”

“What the hell are you babbling about?!” 

~

She looked at him with horror when she finally understood what he was gonna do. The bright light and the energy from the portal called out to her, not in word kind of way but a silent voice kind of way. 

Trying to kick her way free, he kept his grasp. The cold air blew through the portal from the other side, blowing their hair and papers in the area around as if a door was opened.

“No, no, no, no! You-you, don’t want to do this to me...please!” She begged, grabbing his shirt as she scrambled as her feet dangled above the ground to the other side. 

Getting pulled down too, he tried to undo his fingers as he tried to keep himself from falling through or touching the edges of the slowly closing portal.

“Let go! You don’t want me to fall in with you! You keep this up and you’ll get us both killed!” He yelled out. Suddenly, he felt somebody pulling him back up.

“I got you.” 

With a little help, he got her fingers off him, with a loud thud they heard her fall. Stefano stood behind him, looking over his shoulder.

“So, how long till she gets free from there?” 

“She’s not. She won’t be able to...Marc will keep her busy until I figure this out.” Colton said.

~

Rebecca slowly got up, groaning, her arms and legs full of scratches and cuts from the dirt and rocks. She looked up to watch as that portal slowly closed until it looked like a star in the night sky, until she couldnt see it anymore.

Reaching, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. Flipping it open, the screen came up with no signal. Screaming out in anger, she threw it on the ground. Looking up, she saw a building, not far from where she was. The only one in all directions. Looking behind her and back to the building, a smug look on her face; she began walking towards it.

[thewalkingdeadfanfictions]

T, the Mute, Meets Daryl, the Stupid Redneck Chapter 3 - He Your Brother?

****T's POV****

"Whoohoo!" Glenn screamed as we passed the cube van that held the others. ‘I hope T-Dog unlocked Dixon. No one deserves to die like that.’ I thought to myself as we pass the van. I shake my head as Glenn smiles at me. We had sort of became friends during the ride though it’s almost like we’re siblings, he reminds me of Yori in the way that he acts so I guess that’s why we became such quick friends. He told me about his life before the world took a shit and asked me yes or no questions about mine to which I would answer with a nod or shake of my head. He also had me show a few signs like run, hide, search, and stop. As we were now on a dirt road he started to explain the people in his group that I didn't meet yet "There's Amy, Andrea's sister I'd say she's about the same age as you maybe little younger. Since it’s hard to tell how old you are. Jim, a tall and skinny guy who was a mechanic. Lori, long brown hair and the mother of Carl, boy about 12 years old. Dale, old grandfather type. Shane, big guy who was a cop. Carol, short grayish hair, mother of Sophia, girl about 12 years old, wife of Ed, I suggest you stay away from him he has a very bad temper. Morales's wife, Miranda, and his 2 kids, Eliza and Louis, about 12 and 11. Then there's Daryl, Merle's brother, and a few others." I nod as we pull up next to other cars and people run to the car.

He parks the car getting out as someone yells "Holy Crap. Turn that damn thing off!" "I don’t know how." Glenn says laughing as I reach over and pop the hood just as someone starts to tell him to do it. I get out and grab (now) my bow and the arrows, as someone tries to disconnect the battery and a girl I assume is Amy bombards Glenn with questions "Is she okay? Is she alright?” “She’s okay! She’s okay!” he replies so she asks, more distraught “Is she coming back? Why isn’t she with you? Where is she? She’s Okay?" "Yes! Yeah, fine. Everybody is. Well, Merle not so much." Glen answers as someone disconnects the battery. “Are you crazy, driving this wailing bastard up here? Are you trying to draw every walker for miles?” a guy who I assume is Shane, as he talks like Rick, asks Glenn so a guy that has to be Dale says “I think we’re okay.” “You call being stupid okay?” Shane asks so Dale explains “Well, the alarm was echoing all over these hills. Hard to pinpoint the source. I’m not arguing. I’m just saying. It wouldn’t hurt you to think a little more carefully next time, would it?” “Sorry. Got a cool car.” Glenn says and at that I smack my forehead as Dale nods reluctantly. It’s then that the cube van pulls up.

Andrea jumps out and runs to Amy, and Morales goes to his wife and kids saying "I told you I'd be back, didn’t I?" I walk over to the van, slinging my bow and the quiver over my shoulder to get my bag that I left in the van. I see Rick in the front and he shakes his head at me so I check the back of the van for Merle and my bag. He’s not there so I grab my bag and make a mental note to ask Rick about Merle as Morales yells "Hey, Helicopter boy and quiet kid! Come say hello." I assume quiet kid is me so I follow Rick a few feet before he stops looking at a woman and a boy, who seem like who Glenn described as Lori and Carl then I think ‘Wait Carl is Rick’s sons name and they look like the people in his picture’. My thoughts were confirmed as Rick says “Oh my God” as the kid ran to him yelling "Dad! Dad!" Rick met Carl half way as Lori looked at the two shocked for a moment before she comes over and hugs both of them. I stand back and watch the happy family and looked around the group hoping for a familiar face. Glenn looks at me and I shake my head and turn to walk towards the van thinking ‘My brothers not here, not that I thought he’d be but it would have been nice.’

"Hey, Dale you don't happen to have a notebook and pen for T?" Glenn asks causing me to stop and look at him and Dale to ask "Why?" "He's mute and he dropped his back in the city." “I'll go look for one for you." Dale, Lori, and Miranda told me so I nodded and went and got on top of the van. A few minutes later Dale comes over to the van holding a large notebook. I take it from him as I nod at him in thanks and open the notebook to the first page and started to write simple responses and questions that I would need commonly. “Dinner will be ready in an hour or so.” He tells be before going back to the group. I start to clean the bow and the few arrows that I had making a mental note to make better ones or ask Glenn to go on a run with me to get some. It was dark by the time I finished sharpening the arrows as they were dull, that was the death of the walker I got them from. I hopped off the van and joined Rick and the others around the fire at the same time as Shane. I didn’t like the vibe the Shane gave off most of the time so I waited for him to sit down before sitting down myself, next to Glenn. Suddenly Dale asks Rick “Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won’t be happy to hear his brother was left behind.” “I’ll tell him. I dropped the key. It’s on me.” T-Dog says. ‘So he’s still alive. I’ll ask Rick in the morning if we’re going back to get him.’ I think to myself as Rick says “I cuffed him. That makes it mine.” “Guys, it’s not a competition. I don’t mean to bring race into this but it might sound better coming from a white guy.” Glenn says so T-Dog says “I did what I did. Hell if I’m gonna hide from him.” “We could lie.” Amy suggests causing Andrea to say “Or tell the truth. Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he’d have gotten us killed. Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody’s fault but Merle’s.” “And that’s what we tell Daryl? I don’t see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you?” Dale asks Andrea before looking around at the others and adds “Word to the wise…..We’re gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt.” Glenn looks at me but I shake my head so he doesn’t say anything. “I was scared and I ran. I’m not ashamed of it.” T-Dog says causing Andrea to ask “We were all scared. We all ran. What’s your point?” “I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It’s not enough to break through that-not that chain, not that padlock. My point, Dixon’s alive and he’s still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That’s on us.” T-Dog says getting up and leaving. Slowly the others left to go to their beds, leaving me alone with Glenn. “You could share my tent. So you don’t have to sleep on the ground or on top of that van.” Glenn tells me. I sigh as I watch the embers of the fire start to go out and hear thunder in the distance before nodding.

****time skip till morning****

I was cleaning my bow on top of the van again as it was a good vantage point to watch the group do their chores. Glenn was upset that Dale and Jim took apart the sports car for parts and gas so he wasn’t doing much but watch them take it apart. Shane had just come back with the water when a woman screamed followed by the kids screaming for their parents, I quickly grabbed an arrow and jumped off the van running towards the screams. I got there as Jacqui pulled them back from the walker eating a deer that had arrows sticking out of it and led them away. I notched my arrow and aimed it at the walker as the guys ran up, finally, and made a semi-circle around it. I stepped back as they started to beat it so I didn’t get caught in the crossfire, with their stupidity it was a possibility, but kept my bow ready and aimed if needed. Dale decapitated it with an ax and says “It’s the first one we’ve had up here. They never come this far up the mountain.” “Well, they’re running out of food in the city, that’s what.” Jim says before a branch snaps and there’s a rustle in the bushes so everyone aims their weapons at the spot ready for whatever it was. A few moments later a guy with a crossbow comes out saying “Son of a bitch. That’s my deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this…” as he walks over to the walker and starts to kick it adding “Filthy, disease-bearing, motherless proxy bastard!” “Calm down, son. That’s not helping.” Dale says so the guy who I assume is Daryl then says, while striding towards him “What do you know about it, old man? Why don’t you take that stupid hat and go back to On Golden Pond?” he turns away and starts to pull out his arrows adding “I’ve been tracking this deer for miles. Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?” I turn and start walking away as Shane says “I would not risk that.” Daryl then sighs and says “That’s a damn shame. I got some squirrel, about a dozen or so. That’ll have to do.” But then I hear the walker opens its mouth so I quickly spin around and shoot it in the head at the same time as the guy does as he asks "Come on, people. What the hell? It’s gotta be the brain. Don’t y’all know nothing?” Without noticing I did so he goes to get his arrow but pauses seeing mine as well. Glenn then looks at me and cheers “T one, walker head zero! T the one stop shop of awesomeness has done it again! If he can’t do it no one can!” I glare at him as the others look at me like I grew another head. As I walk forward to get my arrow back Daryl pulls his and my arrow from the head, wipes them on the ground, and holds mine out to me. I nod as I take it from him and inspect it as it didn’t fly like I wanted. “That was a nice shot. Considering your arrows not the best.” He tells me quietly before walking off towards camp yelling for Merle. ‘Well that went well. But now all hell’s about to break lose.’ I think to myself as I follow the others towards camp.

****Daryl's POV****

While tracking the deer I heard the kids’ screams from camp and picked up my pace, I didn’t care about the others but kids were a different matter. I reach a clearing with everyone pointing their weapon in my direction, a guy I haven't seen before aiming an arrow, that wasn’t the best quality, at me a few feet away from the group but in front of the kids causing something to start to stir in the back of my mind. I then see my deer and a decapitated Walker. “Son of a bitch. That’s my deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this…” I yell walking over to the walker and start kicking it adding “Filthy, disease-bearing, motherless proxy bastard!” “Calm down, son. That’s not helping.” Dale tells me so I approach him saying “What do you know about it, old man? Why don’t you take that stupid hat and go back to On Golden Pond?” turning away I start to pull out my arrows adding “I’ve been tracking this deer for miles. Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?” The guy with the bow turns and starts walking away as Shane says “I would not risk that.” I sigh and tell them “That’s a damn shame. I got some squirrel, about a dozen or so. That’ll have to do.” But then I hear the walker opens its mouth so I shoot it in the head as I say "Come on, people. What the hell? It’s gotta be the brain. Don’t y’all know nothing?” I go to get my arrow put pause seeing another arrow in the walkers head. All of a sudden Glenn cheers “T one, walker head zero! T the one stop shop of awesomeness has done it again! If he can’t do it no one can!” while looking at the guy who is now glaring at him. As he walks forward to get his arrow back I pull both his and my arrow from the head, wipe them on the ground, and holds his out for him. He nods taking it from me and inspects it. ‘He makes a successful shot with a poor arrow. He might be useful for future hunts.’ I think to myself before telling him, quietly so only he could hear, “That was a nice shot. Considering your arrows not the best.”

I then walking off towards camp yelling “Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let’s stew ‘em up.” “Daryl, just slow up a bit I need to talk to you.” Shane says so I stop and ask “About what?” “About Merle. There was a-There was a problem in Atlanta.” He tells me walking in front of me so I look between him and another new guy twice before asking “He dead?” “We’re not sure.” Shane answers so being angry now I yell “He either is or he ain’t!” New guy then walks up to us and says “No easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it.” “Who are you?" I ask/yell at him whipping around causing him to pause before saying "Rick Grimes." "Rick Grimes, you got something you want to tell me?” I ask him causing him to tell me “Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He’s still there.” “Hold on. Let me process this. You’re saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?!” I ask/yell. I see red as he just answers “Yeah.” So I throw the squirrels at him and go to punch him but Shane pushes me down. I pull out my knife and T-Dog yells “Watch the Knife!” I stand up and try to stab Rick but before I know it I'm on the ground with T on top of my chest, his legs on either side of me keeping me in place, my knife in his hands barely touching my neck, and his silver eyes watching my face calmly.

“You’d best let me go!” I yell at him as a feeling I haven’t felt before, but showed up when I first saw him, made itself known in the back of my mind again. He shakes his head and Rick comes over and says “I’d like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?” I don’t reply so he asks again “Do you think we can manage that?” looking at T now, who nods. Rick then says “Yeah.” So T scoots down to where he’s sitting in my lap as I sit up keeping me from getting up to kick Rick’s ass. “What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others.” Rick says but then T-Dog says “It’s not Rick’s fault. I had the key. I dropped it.” “You couldn’t pick it up?” I asked angry. “Well, I dropped it down a drain.” He says and at this T gets up and offers me a hand. “If that’s supposed to make me feel better it don’t.” I say as I get up on my own and start walking towards my tent. I stop when T-Dog says “Well, maybe this will. Look I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn’t get at him. With a padlock.” “It’s gotta count for something.” Rick says so I look around at everyone, except for T as he’s no longer where he was, and say “Hell with all y’all! Just tell me where he is. So’s I can go get him.” “He’ll show you.” Lori says and we all look at her as she adds “Isn’t that right.” Rick nods and says “I’m going back.” I look at him a moment before going to start skinning the squirrels as I wait for him. I then remember that T still had by knife so I look around and I see him on top of the van messing with his arrows. When he sees me coming he jumps off and holds out my knife to me handle first. I take it from him and walk away.

****T’s POV****

I had just gotten back on the top of the truck when Glenn runs past Daryl towards me with my notebook that now had a piece of rope on it making it into a sort of necklace and the words "MUTE, CAN NOT SPEAK" on the cover in big letters. I just stay sitting on the van when Glenn says “Hey, I customized your notebook so you don’t have to carry it and now people will know you don’t speak.” As he waved the thing above his head. I sling my bow and the quiver over my shoulder before I hop off the van. I land next to him and he quickly puts it around my neck and takes off running back to the others before I could hit him. I walk up and stand next to Glenn, smacking the back of his head, just as Shane asks Rick “Why would you risk your life for a douche bag like merle Dixon?” right in front of Daryl who says “Hey, Choose your words more carefully.” “No, I did. Douche bag’s what I meant. Merle Dixon, the guy wouldn’t give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst.” Shane said and at that point I wanted to punch Shane in the face myself when Rick said the words I was thinking “What he would or wouldn’t do doesn’t interest me. I can’t let a man die of thirst, me. Thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That’s no way for anything to die, let alone a human being." “So you and Daryl, that’s your big plan?” Lori asks. Rick turns to look at Glenn and I asking with his face. I nod but Glenn says “Oh, come on.” Rick then convinces Glenn by saying “You know the way. You’ve been there before, in and out, no problem. You said so yourself. It’s not fair of me to ask, I know that, but I’d feel a lot better with you along. I know she would too.” Motioning to Lori. “That’s just great. Now you’re gonna risk four men, huh?” Shane asks but T-Dog says “Five.” At this Daryl huffs and says “My day just gets better and better, don’t it?” T-Dog counters by saying “You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brother’s cracker ass?” “Why you?” Daryl asks so T-Dog answers “You wouldn’t even begin to understand. You don’t speak my language.” “That’s five.” Dale says but Shane jumps in and says “It’s not just five. You’re putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick. Come on, you saw that walker. It was here. It was in camp. They’re moving out of the cities. They come back, we need every able body we’ve got. We need ‘em here. We need ‘em to protect camp.”

Rick finally showing some smarts says “It seems to me what you really need most here…are more guns.” “Right, the guns.” Glenn says before Shane asks “Wait. What guns?” “Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns. I cleaned out the cage back at the station before I left. I dropped the bag in Atlanta when we got swarmed. It’s just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up.” Rick says so Shane asks “Ammo?” “700 rounds, assorted.” Rick replies. “You went through hell to find us. You just got here and you’re gonna turn around and leave?” Lori says while Carl says “Dad, I don’t want you to go.” “To hell with the guns. Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He’s not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in. Tell me. Make me understand.” Lori says standing up so Rick walks towards her saying “I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy. Lori, if they hadn’t taken me in, I’d have died. It’s because of them and T that I made it back to you at all. They said they’d follow us to Atlanta. They'll walk into the same trap we did if I don’t warn him.” “What’s stopping you?” she asks so Rick replies “The walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped. He’s got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer.” “These are our walkies?” Shane asks so Rick replies “Yeah…” trailing off. “So use the C.B. What’s wrong with that?” Andrea asks so Shane explains “The C.B.’s fine. It’s the walkies that suck to crap. Date back to the ‘70s, don’t match any other bandwidth not even the scanners in our cars.” Lori looks at the ground then back at Rick as he says “I need that bag.” Before walking over and kneeling in front of Carl adding “Okay?” Carl nods so Rick says “All right.” And pats him on the head. I then went with Glenn and Daryl to back up the van. Glenn drove as Daryl and I were in the back. After the van stopped Daryl started pacing back and forth so much that I thought about tripping him but I decide against it and started drawing a picture of Yori to show people when I asked about him, ignoring the conversation going on outside the van. Daryl then honked the horn with his foot and yelled “Come on, let’s go!” As T-Dog is climbing in the van Shane says “Five men, five rounds. What are the odds, huh? Let’s just hope that five is your lucky number, okay?” “God dammit! Stop jinxing me fuckers!’ I yell in my head at them as I glare at them.

After everyone was in the van, T-Dog shut the back as Glenn started driving. A few minutes go by of T-Dog watching me draw before he asks “What are you drawing?” Rick looks back at us and says “I want to know to.” I sigh and flip my half-finished drawing for them to see. Daryl is the first one to speak as he asks “He your brother?” There was a hint of something in his voice that I couldn’t identify so I just nod and T-Dog asks “Where is he?” I look down as Rick says “He doesn’t know for sure. Last he heard he was at the CDC.” “Oh, sorry-“T-Dog start before being cut off by Glenn saying “We’ll find him. Even if we have to walk there.” I was expecting Daryl to say something mean at this as his brother is also missing, well…chained to a roof, so I look up at him but he just looks away from me. We get closer to the city and I’m now half-finished with my drawing of Merle, I figured it would be useful if somehow he wasn’t there anymore, as Daryl looks at T-Dog and says “He better be okay. It’s my only word on the matter.” “I told you the geeks can’t get at him. The only thing that’s gonna get through that door is us.” T-Dog says before Glenn stops the van and says “We walk from here.” So we all get out and start to jog towards the city. When we go through an opening in a fence Rick asks “Merle first, or guns?” I point to Daryl who says “Merle! We ain’t even having this conversation.” As I nod in agreement. “We are. You know the geography. It’s your call.” Rick tells Glenn who says “Merle’s closest. The guns would mean doubling back. Merle first.” We then start jogging again.

*****Time skip*****

           We’re in the department store again sticking close together and watching for walkers. Rick’s leading and puts a hand up to stop us then signals for me to take out the walker as my bow is slightly quieter than Daryl’s crossbow. I notch an arrow as I walk in front of him and aim. As Daryl says “Damn. It’s one ugly skank.” I shoot it in the head. I go to get my arrow but Daryl blocks me as a walker comes around the corner and he shoot it in the head. He then nods at me and we go get our arrows and wipe them off, him on his pants me on one of the shirts in the store. We don’t encounter any more walkers as we make our way to the roof. When we get to the top of the stairway T-Dog breaks the lock with bolt cutters and Daryl kicks the door open yelling “Merle! Merle!” as he runs onto the roof but we don’t find Merle only his sawed off hand as Daryl yells “No!” “Well shit.” I write in my notebook and turn it around.

[zoedart-blog]

Gran’s Story

Grans Story

 I was born in Kensington, Melbourne on 5-1-1923. My family lived near the Flemington Racecourse. My mother Agnes Grey McKissock and father- Joseph Purcell Brown had a lolly shop next door to the theatre. My mother came to south Australia by sailing ship- My grandfather George McKissock was 6ft1in, He came from Paisley, Scotland and had lovely snowy white hair and beard and a beautiful accent, he was a sailor on sailing ships. Stephen has a couple of signing off certificates in his possession. They came to live in Port Melbourne where his wife Kate Lavina Grey rented a double fronted house and the front rooms were turned into a midwifery hospital. Kate took on women who wanted nursing whilst having babies. My grandfather eventually got a job on the wharves. My father’s mother and father apparently had over time a few country inns around St. Leonards and Sussex Way. He was a sailor in the British Navy, I think he left the navy in Sydney and joined the A.I.F his number was 206. I remember living behind a lolly shop next door to a theatre in Racecourse Road, Flemington. I can remember at the age of 3 kneeling on a chair in front of an ice cream can digging ice-cream out with a spoon at theatre intervals. My sister Betty Ellan was born there and not long after we shifted to Ascot Vale to a delicatessen shop where my mother did ALL the cooking- (pies which we had for lunch every school day) fish, cold meats etc etc.

 The Depression was on and sadly people owed them a lot of money, the shop was situated in an area where there were a lot of horse trainers, jockeys where they used to tick up everything, so once again we shifted. To Brunswick where I went to school, I was about 6 years old. We had to wait till our house was ready in Merlynston, North Coburg. We had enough money for a deposit on a three-bedroom weatherboard house at 39 Orvieto Street Merlynston, eight hundred pounds and my mother paid 1 pound a week till they paid it off.

My brother Donald George Harry was born here, and we were all so happy. My father at that time was employed on two ships going back and forth to Tasmania, hit his war wounds were a big problem and he eventually received the TPI pension. We bought a car, at least my dad did and each weekend in the spring and summer we ALL mum, dad and 3 kids, uncle and aunts etc would go to Seaford. The car had a big front seat and two dicky seats on the back of it and a big back seat. So, held quite a few bodies. We also went to Hanging Rock for New Years Day and picnics in the autumn a wonderful time for us kids.

It was such a sad time for my mother and father, our long-awaited brother wasn’t doing to well and it was found he had double cataracts in both eyes and some double mastoids in both ears. My mother had measles whilst carrying him for so many years he had to have many operations, the result was vision- 16 inches and partly spastic. My poor mum had to do so much for Don and my Father, taking Don to a private school 3 days a week. My dad was also in and out of hospital.

At the age of 58 years my mum collapsed and died.

The doctors said, “there was nothing they could do for her, she was worn out”. My dad went on to be manager of the Masonic Club dining room in Flinders Street, all voluntary and he died at 72. During all that time mu aunt Kate looked after Don and Dad. She died at 64 in 1963 and then Allen and I took over the care of Don, looking after him. He was living in a cottage environment for many years he had spent 5 years with us. He was 18 when he came to live with us.

So much for my family.

My sister and I went to church 4 times a week each Sunday, 10am Christian Endeavour, Church, Sunday School and church again at night. My dear grandfather would give us threepence every Sunday if we had been good, many a time I would only get a penny. Bet seemed to manage a threepence. We sang in the choir in the Methodist church in our street and each summer and winter we’d get a new dress only to be worn on a Sunday or for something special. I was also a Sunday school teacher until I got ticked off for wearing lipstick at 16 years old.

 My life at home- I always had to clean the brass. Perhaps that was how I got to love it so much. I can remember 4 brass candlesticks they had been given to my mother as a wedding present, I had them dated 17th century. I have them here and Tina’s put her name on them, Brass taps, plates etc. We would as kids have to set the table, always a white cloth and a vase of flowers in the centre, a big oval table and then we had to wash up after tea. In those days no dishwasher, only children. As we did that, we would sing our heads off until dad told us to shut up. I also had to mow the lawns, with a hand mower of course and that took hours. For pocket money on Saturdays we’d get sixpence to go to the local pictures and threepence to spend. If we bought our lunch on Friday whilst attending Merlynston Primary school another threepence- one penny for a pie. 1 penny for a luscious family ice block and a lolly. Bliss. I made many long-life friends at that school, 23 of us met in Melbourne 1st Monday in December. The girls who live in Melbourne met monthly, but there is always the phone, not short cats, they’re lovely long ones. Of the 23 girls present last December only three were under 80 (only just). We met at school, friends through teens, dances, shows, weddings and babies. We all knew each other’s families, husbands, some children until we all went off to different places but now, we are mainly widowed, sad really. Some of the girl’s names- Val Creighton, Lil Westwood, Peg Woods, Clarice Roberts and Norma Joyce the only one of us to marry a yank and head odd to the USA but came back here eventually Olive Stubbs, Peggy Cash, Lorna Watts. We played cherry bobs, basketball, have school reports, concerts exams. My dad gave me my first watch when I passed my merit certificate at 13 1/2 , I could leave school then. My first job was at Allen’s music shop, at the information desk, a bit boring, seven shillings and sixpence a week.

Then I got a position at the posh end of Collins street to learn Millinery at Thommy Harrisons. It was the most exclusive salon in Melbourne where I learnt to make hats and sell them. Only people with lots of money could afford to shop there.

My girlfriends told me that first night after I said after I had a few dances with him “hands off he’s mine” and he was. We had a wonderful time together dancing, dinners at lovely places, theatres etc until he went overseas. We got engaged before he went to Manus Island with the 79th Spitfire Squadron on active service. Allen’s brother Jim was in the Navy, he served in some dangerous countries for 37 years, his brother George was in the 6th Division Middle East, Greece and was captured in Crete and was a POW in Germany and came home safely after the war. Arthur was also in 6th Division and was sent to Malaysia, was captured and died on the Burma Railway. Four sons in the forces, his poor mother she has such a lot to bear. Allen came back to Australia to pick up more spitfires and was given leave to come home from Oakey, Queensland. Two days to get home, three days here and two days back there a week and they let him come home again. We married on the 31st of January 1945 at St Linus Church of England in Merlynston at 5pm, I arranged the wedding in 3 days and we had 4 days honeymoon- I don’t know why my granddaughters had to take 12 months or more. We had the reception at the Federal Hotel in Collins Street, and I wore a lace dress with a train and a veil borrowed from a Catholic Convent. The nuns made them and lent them out to all who would like them. They asked what time we were to be married so they could pray for our future happiness. I thought it was a lovely thought perhaps that is why Allen and I had such a long (58 years) wonderfully happy life together. Everyone has their ups and downs and to succeed one must give and take and look after one another in sickness and health. Then whatever setbacks one can always get above them if there is plenty of love about. We had part of our honeymoon at the Hotel, room 21 with a bathroom, very posh and then had two days at the Georgian Inn. So, we had seven days of married life then Allen went off again to Moratie and several other islands. The war ended in August 1945 and Allen was discharged in Bairnsdale 1945.

I went up there to live and keep house for two months. I couldn’t cook much, but I soon learnt, not like you girls- we weren’t allowed in the kitchen, perhaps because of food rationing. I don’t quite know why as my mother was a lovely cook. We had three honeymoons altogether and between postings it was at Bairnsdale I learnt I was pregnant, thrilled to bits we were. When Allen left the air force, he went to Tech school at night to brush up on his carpentering. We lived with mum and dad in Merlynston. Ian was born 19th of August 1946 and by then we had bought a block of land for 55 pounds at 14 Edward St, Fawkner and were planning our home. Materials were very hard to get, and one had to go on a list to buy things. We gad enough money to build the back of our house, one bedroom, nursery, big kitchen, sunroom, laundry and bathroom combined. Allen worked very hard to get it ready for when Stephen arrived on the 17th of October 1948. We shifted in when Stephen was three weeks old, we furnished our house very comfortable with bits and pieces relations gave us and were quite happy to do that. Later on, we built on a bedroom, hallway, bathroom, and lovely big loungeroom. In 1950 Allen decided to join the police force, he did very well in all his studies often coming 1st or 2nd. He was the only married bloke in No.5 squad and lived out. The single fellows lived in barracks, he even learnt to swim. Allen’s first police station was in Brunswick and by then we decided we’d like a little girl. Ian was at Lynch Road School and Stephen had just started, Stephen and Ian shifted into the middle room, us in the front one (even had a walk-in robe!) The nursery was empty, Robbie John arrived on the 11th of May 1955, and so we gave up the idea of trying for a girl. Allen’s mum had 9 boys and two girls; the girls arrived last. Allen finished off our house and we even had a road made by then, he was doing very well in the police force. Allen was promoted to uniform to plain-clothes detective and went to Airlie College and came out 4th of 36. It was very hard demanding work, all shifts life was a struggle in those days, but we managed to buy a car, a Morris for 100 pounds then in 1952 an A model ford for 50pounds, Allen’s pride and joy. What fun we had picnics, rabbiting, mushrooming, wood gathering. A picnic consisted of a cooked leg of lamb, jar of beetroot, pickles, loaf of bread, butter, tomatoes, white onions and fruitcake- wonderful. Pop and Gran Mumford lived 5 minutes away across the paddocks, we all used to go to Sunday school night tea. Geoff, Dorrie, Jean were home enough to have a footy or a cricket team, great times.

Then, Allen was talked into trying for a country station, Wedderburn the first, what excitement, had to rent out my lovely family house everything just right. Garden was lovely- we shifted just after Christmas 1958. Allen had the Ford all done up as he had to use it for the Police work and away we went with the trailer on the back, on board more incidentals plus bikes, dog, dog kennel, 4 bantams on eggs, 1 possum and I imagine a lot of pot plants. I was his unpaid offsider, After Wedderburn we went to Violet Town the Yarra Junction, each town provided for all us new experiences. Wedderburn was a small town, 3000 people all very friendly, a lovely big old house and an office looking out onto a village green where cricket was played in the summer. Stephen went down to the local milk bar, he was breathless when he got back, the man said we could have a loan of a cow and he had two and not enough feed as we had a Lucerne paddock we accepted. Me on the condition I did not have to milk her. Flossie, A jersey cow. I did learn how to milk later as Allen would sometimes be caught up with work and the boys would be playing sports etc. I also had a piglet given to me for Mother’s Day, when sold 5 months later $79 came my way. I mothered in the first 6 months, 5 baby lambs, a clucky hen who sat on 10 duck eggs, rosella parrots and galas on my combustion stove hearth who all had to be hand fed. We had a possum who ate roses, fruit and chocolate. I even made my own butter, separated the milk and supplied everyone who called in with jars of cream and homemade jams. My town friends could hardly believe but it’s all true.

Our inspector came once a month for lunch and this day Allen had Fred, a simple lad in the lock up. He was caught flashing himself off to school girls. I had to give him lunch also, so inspector said “what are you going to give Fred for lunch?”, same as you I said, but I put a bit more bacon on yours” and the inspector said “are you going to put it on a plate with a fork and knife?”. “yes” I replied. “well” said the inspector “He could break the plate, cut his throat, stab himself with knife and four times with the fork” so, Fred’s lunch was on an enamel plate with an enamel cup and a spoon, one soon learns. Another time, a runaway boy who I had already made him a great heap of sandwiches, Allen came in and said “he was still hungry”, we had, had a flower show and cooking competition, I won the lamington prize and I bought the prize fruit cake, I don’t know if Allen told him what he was about to eat but he never left any.

Next stop Violet Town- Allen’s mother and father were born at Boho and Warrenbain in time we found we were related to half the town. We’d have weekends when Allen’s parents would come up and have open house and all wonderful stories these relations would tell. The Hume Highway was very bad for accidents, dreadful ones- trucks-many times I’d have injured people to look after and feed till their relatives would come and pick them up. Once, Allen and the shire engineer (he said he would help) a truck with milk powder and a truck with 250 sheep collided, what a mess. Both trucks caught fire and by the time Allen got there the sheep were running up and down the highway with their wool on fire. All the sheep had to be destroyed, nothing much left of the two truckies but the shire engineer never offered to go with Allen again.

Next Stop- over the mountains to Yarra Junction. What a difference. Mountains. Huge gumtrees. Ferns and a house on the side of a mountain and facing Bencairn near Donna Buang. Within 3 days it was all on fire. I didn’t see Allen for four days and then I saw him on the TV. Allen and a ranger tried to get two boys and their grandparents to leave their house as it was in a valley surrounded by trees, but they said “they would stay” so Allen couldn’t do much about it. After the fire they went back to find them. They had all perished on the way out in a ute. The house was still standing, so very sad. The fires were over by Wednesday and Dianna Trask’s wedding was on the Saturday. Allen in one car containing a policeman, his wife, myself, 3 boys and two girls in the back of our station wagon, we were the crowd control.

People came from everywhere to Warburton it really was a circus, church windows full of faces, the brides father had his wallet pinched out of his pocket, after all that Allen had to make way for the bride and grooms car to the reception with a green Holden station wagon with all of us in it and one of the kids yells out “look they’re kidding!” what fun we all had. After the fires the ferns grass and trees were all starting to shoot after 10 days. Plenty of snow in the winter to play in.

After two years Allen and our family had to shift back to Melbourne to Seaford to take up a promotion what a shock to our systems, the people were so rude, always in a hurry and didn’t care about one another. After a while I was a bit lost after having been so busy for several years. I was lucky to meet with Winifred Moss a well-known dressmaker for the wealthy, also did beautiful society weddings, entered the gown of the year 7 times and won 3. Winifred wanted someone to do beading and bridal headgear. I started at 3 ½ days a week and ended up doing full time. I was offered a position at Haileybury College looking after 700 boys and masters in sickbay. I loved it, I also had to show overseas visitors over the school and do flowers and decorate the reception rooms when needed.

Allen was not at all well and became very ill and was discharged on medical grounds, as a family his boys and I were very proud of our policeman and the wonderful life he had provided. I retired from Haileybury and we bought an old house on a big treed block near the beach in Rye. We spent many happy years renovating and creating a lovely garden. My garden was featured in Home Beautiful as the best CWA garden on the peninsula.

We decided six months after finishing the house to move to warmer climes, to Maroochydore where we had, looking back 5 ½ years of holidays. But we returned to Victoria as our granddaughters were growing up without us around.

Ian, Heather and four granddaughters in Tinamba

Stephen and June and two granddaughters in Canberra

Rob and Sue in Lakes Entrance

We settled in eagle point and the mozzies made us move to rosebud, where the traffic made us move to Maffra, just the right type of place we were looking for. Lovely little town, very caring people, loving friends and I hope I have many more years among you all.

Sadly, Allen passed away in April 2003, a brave man.

We now have 6 granddaughters and seven great granddaughters, and hopefully someday maybe a great grandson.

[thelastspeecher]

Stan Pines, Farmhand - Chapter 15: Forty-One Years Later

Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4   Chapter 5   Chapter 6 Chapter 7   Chapter 8   Chapter 9   Chapter 10   Chapter 11   Chapter 12 Chapter 13   Chapter 14   Chapter 15   Chapter 16   AO3

Holy cow guys it’s finally here!  Chapter 15 of “Stan Pines, Farmhand”!  It has been far too long since I’ve updated, and for that I am sorry.  But we’re in the home stretch folks, we’re almost done!  Anyways, in this chapter, Stan gets yelled at by multiple people, Mabel thinks her Great-Aunt Angie is a werewolf, and Emily thinks her Uncle Ford is a bit strange, even for her admittedly odd family.  Enjoy.

July 30, 2012

               Dipper and Mabel were finally in bed.  Stan could hear them moving around upstairs, but at least they’d have a harder time eavesdropping from the attic.  As he talked on the phone in the kitchen, Stan looked outside.  Some sort of bear-thing was chasing gnomes in the backyard.

               Just a normal Monday here in Gravity Falls, he thought tiredly.

               “So I took the kids on a trip to some of the other tourist traps in Oregon,” Stan said.

               “Mm-hmm,” Angie replied, on the other end of the phone.  “This weren’t a ‘business trip’, were it?”

               “I have no clue what ya mean.”

               “Did ya use child labor to ruin yer competition’s places of business?”

               “See, now when ya say it like that, it sounds dirty,” Stan said, slightly put out.  Angie chuckled softly.  

               “Did anythin’ interestin’ happen on this trip?”

               “I almost got eaten by a spider-lady.”

               “A spider-lady?”

               “Yeah.”

               “What was her name?”

               “Why are you interested in knowing her name?”  

               “My college roommate is a spider-person.”

               “Marley?”

               “Yep.”

               “Her name was Darlene.”  There was a shuffle over the phone as Angie apparently shifted her phone from one ear to the other.

               “Ya shoulda told me ya were goin’ to see spider-people.  Darlene is Marley’s cousin.  She prob’ly wouldn’t have tried to eat ya if she knew who ya were.”

               “Dammit.  See, this is why ya need to come back.  Ya get me outta all sortsa sticky situations.”  Angie laughed again.  “Seriously, though, when are ya gettin’ back?”

               “I’ll be in Gravity Falls in a week or so.  I’m in the Augusta airport right now, to head over to California and stay with Harper and Emmett fer a bit.  Emmett’s got that dance recital,” Angie replied.  She paused.  “That’s the boardin’ call.  Real quick, anythin’ else ya wanted to tell me?”

               “Ford’s back,” Stan blurted out.  There was a clatter and shuffling over the line.

               “Sorry ‘bout that,” Angie said.  “I dropped the phone. Now, what did ya just say?”

               “Ford’s back.”

               “An’ how is that even possible?  I thought ya said there wasn’t any way to bring him back.”

               “I lied,” Stan said simply.

               “Fer thirty years?”

               “Yes.”  Stan could practically feel Angie’s anger, even though she was on the other side of the country.  

               “Ya lied to me!”

               “Angie, I-”

               “Ya promised ya would never do that!  Ya know how I feel ‘bout lyin’!”

               “Angie-”

               “Did ya forget what my fam’ly is all about?  It’s ‘bout bein’ open and truthful!  Ya just shit over everythin’ my fam’ly stands for.  Everything your fam’ly stands for.  Yer a McGucket, act like it fer once in-”

               “Angie, listen!”  She went silent.  “Ya remember what happened last time ya got mixed up in Stanford’s weirdness, right? Ya ended up in the hospital fer two weeks.  In a fuckin’ coma fer most of it.  I did it to protect ya.”

               “It don’t matter how noble it was, it’s still wrong.  And yer not goin’ to get off easy.”

               “Look, I’m sorry, okay?”  She was silent for a minute.  “Angie?”

               “We’ll talk when I get back,” she replied shortly and hung up the phone without even saying goodbye.  Stan slammed the phone on the hook.

               “Shit, fuck,” he swore softly.  He ran his hands through his hair.  “Goddammit.”

               “Was that Ma?”  Stan turned around to face the speaker, Emily.

               “Yeah.  It was.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “She’s pissed at me.”

               “Well, duh,” Emily said.  “Ya lied to her for longer than I’ve been alive!”

               “I know, smartass.”

               “Dipper and Mabel aren’t too pleased, either.  Mostly Dipper.  That kid can hold a grudge.”  Emily sighed. “Look, Dad, I’m gonna be honest. Ya messed up.”

               “Don’t need to tell me that,” Stan muttered.

               “You should’ve been tellin’ Ma ‘bout this nonsense from the start!”

               “Look, I don’t need to be scolded by my own kid,” Stan snapped. Emily raised her eyebrows.

               “Wow, that’s mature,” she said sarcastically.  Stan glowered at her.  “I know yer a bit upset, Dad.  And ya don’t like bein’ on bad terms with Ma.”  Emily moved forward.  “She’ll get over it.  But…give her some time.”  Emily wrapped her arms around Stan in a tight hug.  “We all need some time.”  Stan rested his chin on top of her head and squeezed her back in response.

               “Yeah.”

               “I know things didn’t go the way you wanted.  But seriously, it’s just- give Ma some time, give Uncle Ford some time, give Dipper and Mabel some time.  We’ll be back to normal ‘fore ya know it.”  Stan buried his face in his daughter’s caramel-colored hair.

               “When did ya get so smart?” he whispered.  

               “I’ve always been smart.  You know. You were there,” Emily replied. Stan smiled.  “I’m gonna go to bed now.  Night, Dad.”

               “Night, pumpkin.”  Emily broke off the hug and walked away.  A door opened and closed.  Stan looked over at Ford, sitting at the table in the living room.  After a moment, he walked over and took a seat across from his twin.

               “So, you and Angie had another child, then?” Ford asked, once a few minutes had passed.  Stan leaned back in his chair.  Ford tried to not stare, but it was difficult.  He took a drink from his glass of whisky.

               Sweet Moses, it’s strange to see Stan as an old man.

               “Nah, Emily’s mine and Fidds’ kid,” Stan said idly.  Ford coughed in shock, spewing whisky across the table.  Stan grinned. “Gotcha.”

               “Stanley!”

               “You were right.  Emily’s mine ‘n Angie’s.  Third one,” Stan said over Ford’s continued sputters.  “Third outta four, actually.  And, uh, ya might be interested in the fourth one.”  Ford watched curiously as Stan took out a wallet and began to shuffle through it.  “Ah! Here,” Stan said, sliding a picture across the table.  Ford picked it up.  It was of a young man with brown hair, rectangular glasses, and the distinctive McGucket nose. There was a mischievous twinkle in his brown eyes that Ford recognized as identical to Stan’s.

               “This is your fourth child?” Ford clarified.  Stan nodded.

               “Yep.  Only son. Emmett.  Emily’s twin.”

               “You had twins twice?  That’s bad luck,” Ford said.  Stan shrugged.  

               “Not so much for me as fer Angie.  I mean, she’s the person what had to give birth to ‘em.  And Emily and Emmett were trouble-makers from the start. Premature, emergency C-section, complications, the whole thing.  Doc said Angie probably shouldn’t have any more kids after they were born.  But we were done anyways.”  

               “I’m sorry to hear that.  It must have been rough,” Ford said softly.  Stan shrugged again.

               “Most of Angie’s siblings, and her Ma and Pa, came up while Angie was recoverin’ from the birth.  Helped out around the house, watched the kids.  Stayed until she was back to normal.”

               “That was very kind of them.”

               “It got old pretty fast, actually.  We practically had to physically remove ‘em from the house.” Stan poured himself a glass of whisky and downed half of it in one swallow.  “But that’s not why I brought up Emmett.  I brought him up ‘cause, well, I think meetin’ him would be helpful fer both of ya.  Mostly him, but hey, it’d be nice for ya, too.  Meetin’ yer nephew.”  

               “Not that I’m disagreeing, but why do you say that?” Ford asked, handing the picture back to Stan.  Stan drummed his fingers on the table and looked away.

               “His full name’s Emmett Stanford McGucket.”  

               “…What?” Ford asked quietly.  Stan sighed.

               “It was Angie’s idea.  I kept tryin’ to push Stanjamin, and then she said that Stanford was barely even a name, and she got that look in her eye, and when that happens, nothin’ ‘ll change her mind.”

               “You named your son after me?” Ford asked.  Stan nodded, still refusing to make eye contact.

               “It’s not like we did it fer no reason, though.  Emmett’s like ya.  But instead of twelve fingers, he’s got twelve toes.”  

               “Oh.  Two of your children are polydactyls?”

               “Yeah.  Apparently, it’s a weird enough thing that Daisy used it for her senior thesis.  She’s a geneticist, y’know.  Right now, she’s back at the farm, tryin’ to breed ‘super crops’ or somethin’ like that.”  A proud smile formed on Stan’s face.  “Smart cookie, that one.  All of ‘em, really.  Don’t know how a knucklehead like me got such bright kids.”

               “What about Danny?  What’s she up to?” Ford asked.  Stan grinned even more broadly.

               “She builds doomsday machines for the government.  Top-secret Pentagon job.  Since she’s so busy, her husband’s a stay-at-home dad.”

               “You have a grandchild?” Ford asked, surprised.  Stan let out a bark of laughter.

               “I’ve got five, Sixer.  And another one on the way.”

               “Really?”

               “Yeah, Danny’s got the triplets and Benji, and then she told us just a couple months ago that she’s havin’ another one.  And Emmett’s got Lucy.  Man, Lucy’s the sweetest little thing.  Her mom left, though, pretty soon after she was born.”  Stan’s smile faded slightly.  “Good thing that Harper and Lute are around to help Emmett with her.”

               “I- I can’t believe you’re a grandfather,” Ford said.  Stan eyed Ford and quirked an eyebrow.  

               “So are you.”  Ford’s heart stopped.

               “What?”

               “Tate’s got a couple kids.  Boy and a girl.  They actually live here, in Gravity Falls.”

               “Is Fiddleford here as well?” Ford asked.  Stan looked away.  

               “That’s, uh, that’s somethin’ you should talk to Angie about.”  Ford stared at Stan.

               “What?  Why?” he asked.  Stan rubbed the back of his neck.

               “I don’t wanna get into it.  It’s late.”

               “…I suppose it is.”  Ford took another drink from his glass.  He sighed heavily.  “Stanley. This ‘Mystery Shack’ business has to end.”

               “Figured.”

               “I won’t kick you out tomorrow, or anything like that,” Ford continued, “but I do expect you to leave my house eventually.  The end of the summer, ideally.”

               “I’m not the only person who lives here.”

               “You and Angie can find a place, I’m sure,” Ford said.  Stan scoffed.

               “That’s one hell of a thanks.”

               “…What?”

               “I spend thirty years bringin’ ya back, and ya don’t bother to say ‘Hey, thanks for doin’ that’?  No, all I get is an eviction notice,” Stan said bitterly.

               “Thank you?  Why would I thank you?” Ford demanded.  “You pushed me into that portal, and through your foolhardy, bullheaded stubbornness, you have put the universe in danger by opening it up again!”  Stan stared at him for a few seconds.

               “…Whatever,” Stan said.  He stood up. “Look, Stanford, I- I don’t want ya draggin’ these kids into your bullshit.”

               “What are you talking about?”

               “The same bullshit that ended with ya puttin’ my wife in a coma.  Keep the kids outta it, okay?”

               “I would never-”

               “I don’t care.  I can live without a thank you fer haulin’ yer wrinkly old ass back home.  But I can’t live with you hurtin’ my fam’ly.”

               “They’re my family as well.”

               “Never stopped ya before,” Stan shot back.  He left the room huffily.  Ford watched him leave, fighting the temptation to call out after him. His gaze dropped down to the table, where he could see his reflection in the dregs of his drink.

               “Welcome back, Stanford Pines,” he muttered idly.

----- 

July 31, 2012

               Stan walked into the kitchen.  Dipper, Mabel, and Emily looked up from their breakfast.

               “About time ya got up, old man,” Emily said.  “I had to get these gremlins breakfast without ya.”  Stan didn’t respond, instead squinting at something in his hand.  “Uh, what are you doin’?”

               “Yer ma sent me a picture,” Stan said.  “But I can’t unlock it.”  Emily sighed.

               “Dad, ya don’t ‘unlock’ picture messages.”

               “I can’t see it, though.”

               “Lemme see.”  Emily snatched the thing out of Stan’s hand.  “Can’t use a dang phone, but ya can build a death machine in the basement,” she muttered.  Mabel and Dipper frowned.

               “That’s a phone?” Mabel asked.  Emily nodded.

               “There’s no way that’s a phone,” Dipper said.  

               “Ma made him get one a while back,” Emily said, clicking buttons.  “He doesn’t do anything with it.  Just keeps it around so my ma and siblings can get a hold of him.”  She rolled her eyes.  “He even uses a default ringtone.”

               “That should be a crime,” Mabel said.

               “Agreed,” Emily said.  She handed the phone back to Stan.  “Here ya go. Looks like she met up with Emmett and Uncle Harper.”

               “You have siblings?” Dipper asked.  Emily nodded and took another bite of her cereal.

               “Oh, yeah.  I’ve got three.  Two older, one younger.”  She squinted at Dipper.  “How did ya not know that?”

               “It’s not like he tells us anything,” Mabel said.  “Except for like, ‘Touch that and you owe me thirty bucks!’”

               “I forget all the time that he’s married,” Dipper added.  Emily grabbed Stan’s phone from him again.

               “Hey!” Stan barked.  Emily clicked a few buttons, then turned the phone’s screen to face her cousins.

               “That’s my ma, my twin brother Emmett, and my Uncle Harper,” Emily said, pointing out her family members.  Mabel gasped.

               “Your mom’s so pretty!”

               “Yeah, she’s pretty much outta Dad’s league,” Emily said nonchalantly. Stan squinted at his daughter.

               “Watch it, kid.”  Emily stuck her tongue out in response.  Stan playfully whapped her over the head with his newspaper, eliciting a chortle from her. She handed back the phone.

               “But see, Dad, I told ya Ma would start feelin’ a bit better.  She just needed some time to deal with the lyin’.” Stan shook his head.  “What?”

               “She sent me one of those word messages, too.”

               “Text,” Mabel supplied helpfully.  Stan frowned at her.

               “Stop makin’ noise just to make noise.  Too early fer that.”

               “What did Ma say?” Emily asked.

               “Somethin’ ‘bout how they’re goin’ to get toffee peanuts from place I like in San Diego.”

               “That’s good!”

               “And eat all of ‘em.”  Stan huffed. “And Harper’s still gonna record Emmett’s performance, but keep the tape.  I don’t get to watch it.”

               “Oh.  Yeesh.” Emily looked over at Mabel and Dipper. “Ma can be a bit savage sometimes.”

               “That’s probably because she’s secretly a werewolf,” Mable said confidently. Emily blinked.

               “What?”

               “Yeah, Mabel thinks Grunkle Stan’s wife has to be a werewolf or something,” Dipper said.

               “Okay, but seriously, what kind of person would Grunkle Stan marry?” Mabel asked.  “I think a wolf-lady is a perfect match for someone like him.  Or like, a mountain woman.”

               “So, basically, someone half-wild,” Emily said, amused.  Stan grunted.  “I could see that.”

               “Cool it, squirt,” Stan said warningly.  Emily propped her elbows on the table.

               “What about you, Dipper?  What’re yer thoughts?”

               “Some sorta cat burglar or thief or scammer or something,” Dipper said. Emily laughed.  

               “Did ya bother to ask Soos or Wendy what she’s like?” Stan grumbled. Dipper and Mabel shook their heads.

               “That takes all the fun out of it, Grunkle Stan!  And anyways, it’s so obvious that she’s a werewolf.”

               “If she is, she hasn’t told me,” Stan said, shuffling out of the kitchen.

               “I’ll give you two a hint,” Emily said.  “If my ma was ‘round, there’s no way that Dad woulda been able to keep up his ‘Gravity Falls is normal’ façade.  Like, if ya mentioned seein’ Bigfoot’s footprint, she’d say somethin’ like ‘Well, of course he’s real, I had lunch with him last Wednesday.’”

               “Well, yeah,” Mabel said.  “Bigfoot is so the type to have lunch with werewolves.”  Emily beamed at her cousins.

               “I like you kids.”  

               “Aw, shucks,” Mabel said, waving a hand airily.

               “Good morning, children.”  Emily, Dipper, and Mabel all looked over.  Ford stood in the entryway of the kitchen.  

               “Howdy, Uncle Ford!” Emily chirped.  “You just missed the big discussion about how I’m apparently half wolf.”

               “No, you’d be a quarter wolf, if your mom was a werewolf,” Dipper corrected. “Werewolves are half wolf. Y’know, ‘wolf-man’.  Half wolf, half man.”

               “Ah, okay,” Emily said with a nod.  “I’m apparently only 25% wolf.”

               “Hmm.  Very well, then,” Ford muttered, walking over to the fridge.  He opened it and peered inside.

               “Dad needs to go shoppin’, so there’s not much here,” Emily said.  

               “Thank you for informing me,” Ford said.  He walked back out of the kitchen.  Emily frowned.

               “What’s his deal?”

               “He’s the author, he’s allowed to be eccentric,” Dipper said.

               “I mean, most people in my fam’ly are a bit odd,” Emily said slowly. “But…”  She shook her head.  “Never mind. You two wanna go get Soos and play some squirt gun wars?”

               “Yes!” Mabel cheered, jumping out of her chair.  Dipper continued to look in the direction Ford had left.

               “…Dipper?” Emily asked.  Dipper looked back at her.

               “Huh?”

               “Squirt gun wars with Soos sound like fun?”

               “Oh, yeah,” he said.  

               “Go get dressed, then, kidlets,” Emily said.  Dipper and Mabel left the kitchen.  Emily frowned thoughtfully.  “Seems like Uncle Ford has a fan.”  She began to clear the dishes from the table.  “From what I’ve heard ‘bout him, that won’t end well.”

----- 

August 14, 2012

               The front door of the Mystery Shack slammed open.  

               “Here we go,” Wendy said quietly.  A short, middle-aged woman stormed into the Gift Shop and came to a stop in front of Stan. Stan eyed her cautiously.  She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him.

               “Aww,” Mabel cooed.  Angie stroked Stan’s face.

               “I missed ya,” she whispered.  Stan smiled at her.

               “Missed you too.”  After a few moments of gazing lovingly at her husband, Angie promptly switched to glaring at him.

               “You lied to me?!” she shouted.  

               “There it is,” Stan muttered.  Angie crossed her arms.

               “You lied, Stanley Pines.  Fer thirty years.  I ain’t pleased.”

               “Look-”

               “Ya didn’t just lie to me, even.  Ya lied to everyone in yer entire fam’ly!  Ya said Stanford was dead.”

               “Yeah, it’s good news, the whole ‘him not actually being dead’ thing.  Why aren’t ya happy?”

               “Happy?!”  Angie stood on her tiptoes again, to peer into his face easier.  “I’m too upset with ya to be happy.  I thought Ford was dead.  We mourned.  We accepted it.  We moved on.”

               “That’s what you want to hear,” Ford mumbled.  Angie held up a hand, still glaring intensely at her husband.

               “I’ll get to you in a minute, Stanford,” she snapped.  “Stanley, I don’t want to sleep in the same bed as someone who lied fer longer than my two youngest children have been alive.  Yer goin’ to spend a few nights on the couch, understand?”  Stan glared at her.  She met his gaze with hardened eyes.  After a few tense moments, he finally sighed.

               “Fine.”

               “She is a werewolf!” Mabel gasped. Angie blinked.

               “What?”  She turned around.  “Oh, howdy, lil ones.”

               “I was right, you are a werewolf!” Mabel said.  Angie frowned.  

               “What makes ya say that, sugar-cube?”

               “Well, it just makes sense.”

               “Is it ‘cause I told off my husband?”

               “Basically,” Mabel said.  Angie chuckled and crouched down to Mabel’s eye height.

               “Aren’t you the charmer.  No, I’m not a werewolf.  The mailman, on the other hand…”

               “I knew it!” Soos shouted from a room over.

               “What’s yer name, cutie?” Angie asked.

               “Mabel!  And he’s my twin, Dipper!” Mabel said eagerly, grabbing Dipper, who made a small squeak.  Angie beamed.

               “Well then, looks like I’m yer Great-Aunt Angie!”

               “You’re shorter than I thought you’d be,” Dipper said.  Angie chuckled again.  

               “I get that a lot.  But I’m sorry ya had to see all that.  I shouldn’t yell in front of kidlets.  Ain’t right.”

               “I don’t mind, Dr. Angie,” Wendy put in.  “I kinda like it when you tear Mr. Pines a new one.”  Mabel gasped suddenly, as an idea occurred to her.

               “Can we call you Grangie?” she asked.  Angie blinked.

               “No,” she said flatly, “only my grandkids are allowed to call me that.” She winked at Mabel.  “Ya can still call me yer Grauntie Angie, though. But most kids ‘round here just call me Dr. Angie, like Wendy does.”

               “I’ll take it!” Mabel said.  Angie grinned and stood up to her full height.  She took a breath.  “Stanford.” It was a statement, not a summons. Ford looked up.  Angie stepped forward, her hands shaking, and twisting her wedding ring.  “Ya- ya have to understand,” she said quietly and calmly, in a steady voice that belied her body language.  “It’s like seein’ a ghost.”  Angie’s hair had slightly faded, and had a couple silver streaks through it, but the only other sign that she had aged were the extensive laughter lines on her face.

               She lived a good life, then.  The woman standing before him, waiting for him to speak, seemed different than the one he remembered.  And learned to be patient, apparently.

               “Age mellowed you,” he said finally.  Angie’s eyes widened.  She laughed.

               “Ya think I’m mellow?  Did ya not just hear me yell at my husband?”  Ford smiled half-heartedly.

               “Point taken.  By the way, I’m eager to meet the rest of your children.  I’ve only become well acquainted with Emily,” Ford said.  He looked down at his feet.  “I also, uh…could you give me Fiddleford’s address?” He looked up again in time to watch Angie’s face break.  “What?”

               “Stan didn’t tell ya?”

               “Tell me what?”

               “About Fiddleford.”  A heavy feeling, like he’d swallowed a brick of lead, settled in Ford’s stomach.

               “What about Fiddleford?”  Angie looked around.

               “He- he don’t know ya no more,” she said quietly.  Ford’s heart stopped.

               “What?  That’s- that’s-”

               “Not true anymore,” Dipper put in.  Angie and Ford looked over at their nephew.  Dipper cleared his throat, slightly startled by unexpectedly being in the spotlight.  “He’s- we figured out that he built the laptop in the bunker, and then we figured out that he founded the Blind Eye Society, and we found all his missing memories and-”

               “Did ya tell Stan all this?” Angie interrupted.  Dipper shook his head.

               “No.  He pretended like he didn’t even know Gravity Falls was supernaturally weird until after we almost got eaten by zombies.”

               “Eaten by-”  Angie looked over at Stan, who was grumpily buffing one of the snow globes. “Stanley, what on Earth happened?”

               “Nothin’.  They’re fine, aren’t they?” Stan said.

               “Emily took pictures,” Mabel said.  “I know because I asked her to send them to me.”

               “Pictures of what?” Angie asked.

               “Us fighting off zombies with the power of song!” Mabel enthused. Angie rubbed her forehead.

               “Son of a-”  She took a breath.  “Stanley, what all have these children done this summer?”

               “Heck if I know.  They’re always gallivantin’ around, solvin’ mysteries or whatever,” Stan muttered.

               “Ya don’t know what- yer supposed to be watchin’ ‘em!”

               “Hey, do they have any bites or missin’ limbs?  I did a fine job watchin’ ‘em!” Stan protested.  Angie crossed her arms.

               “I was hopin’ to hold off on the full argument fer a bit.  But I don’t think I can.  Bedroom.  Now.” Angie looked over at Ford.  “Don’t think I’ve forgotten ‘bout scoldin’ you, Stanford.  Yer next.” With that, she followed Stan out of the Gift Shop.  Wendy chuckled.

               “Good luck with that, Stan Two.”

[healthnotion]

Never Underestimate the Bolo Tie, Baby

My family has roots in New Mexico going back for centuries. I have ancestors on my dad’s side of the family that immigrated to New Mexico from Spain back in the 1600s when the area was that country’s colony. Lots of Sanchez’s and Chavez’s in my lineage. Other ancestors of mine from Switzerland, France, and Nova Scotia also settled in New Mexico in the 19th and early 20th centuries.

My mom’s parents transplanted to Albuquerque when my grandfather took the position of Regional Forester of the Southwestern Region of the U.S. Forest Service. They lived there for over 30 years.

Needless to say, I spent a lot of my childhood in New Mexico. I love that state. The scenery, the smells, the food (green chili on all the things!), and the art. The state’s tagline is quite apt: it is indeed the land of enchantment.

Grandpa Hurst in one of his signature bolo ties.

One thing I noticed on my visits to New Mexico is that a good number of residents sport bolo ties. My Grandpa Hurst regularly rocked one himself and amassed an extensive collection of them over the course of his career as an Albuquerque-based forester. There’s a reason for the prevalence of bolo ties in New Mexico: it’s the state’s official neckwear. As it is in Arizona, too. American Indians living all over the desert Southwest are famous for making and wearing bolo ties.

For most of my life, I associated this unique type of neckwear with old men, New Mexican politicians, and the 1980s. Even though as an Okie the bolo tie isn’t foreign to my state, I never thought I’d personally sport one.

That all changed at my grandfather’s funeral.

When we laid him to rest, each of his grandsons who served as pallbearers sported one of Grandpa’s old bolo ties.

I picked one from his collection that stuck out to me. It’s a silver keystone with an oval piece of turquoise inlaid in it. Simple, but distinguished.

I was wearing a pair of dark jeans, cowboy boots, white shirt, and brown sport coat. It’s a getup my grandpa would have worn. Rugged, yet refined.

I put the bolo tie on and gave myself a look in the mirror. I was expecting to feel awkward and self-conscious wearing it, but to my pleasant surprise, I thought it actually looked quite sharp on me.

“With that mustache and bolo tie, you look like a character from a Cormac McCarthy novel,” said one of my cousins. Since I’m a fan of McCarthy’s Border Trilogy, that was a nice compliment indeed.

When I got home, I put Grandpa’s bolo tie away in my treasure box. I had no intention of ever wearing it again because young guys just don’t wear bolo ties.

But one Sunday, a few weeks after his funeral, I was putting on my charcoal suit for church and reaching for my regular necktie, when the thought came to me: “Wear Grandpa’s bolo tie.”

I pulled it out of my treasure box and put it on. I thought it wouldn’t look very good with a traditional grey business suit.

“Well I’ll be damned,” I thought, echoing one of my grandfather’s catchphrases as I looked in the mirror. “This is a good look. A great look.”

I walked out to the kitchen to get Kate’s opinion. I thought she’d giggle and think that I looked dorky or was trying to be ironic.

“That looks way, way better than I thought it would,” she said.

The Mrs. was sold on the bolo tie too.

At church, I got all sorts of compliments from folks. And it gave me a chance to talk to them about my grandpa. The bolo tie was a big hit.

Since that day, the bolo tie has become a regular part of my wardrobe. They’re a great way for me to express my New Mexican heritage and remember my grandfather, and they definitely set me apart from the pack. Nothing makes a man stand out like wearing a piece of braided leather string held together by a piece of metal. It’s a statement piece, par excellence.

The bolo tie is not to be underestimated, my friends, and I think it’s due a comeback.

If you’ve been thinking about sporting one, but always felt a bit sheepish about it or weren’t sure how to do it without looking like you’re attending a Western or 1980s-themed party, consider this your guide to the way of the bolo.

A Bolo Tie By Any Other Name Is Still a Bolo Tie

A bolo tie consists of a braided leather cord with silver or metal tips. The cord is threaded through a slide or clasp made of metal, wood, or beads. The clasp is typically decorated or made in the shape of Western designs and motifs like bears, thunderbirds, horses, and cattle skulls. The clasps are often inlaid with turquoise or other precious stones. Some are embellished with Indian beading.

Bolo ties go by different names. Bola tie, cowboy tie, and string tie have all been used interchangeably. As long as it’s a braided cord clasped together and worn like a tie, it’s a bolo tie.

The History of the Bolo Tie

The exact origins of the bolo tie have been obscured by the desert sands of the American Southwest. Some historians say it was inspired by bandanas that Zuni and Navajo Indians wore around their neck and kept clasped together with a silver scarf slide. Someone got the idea to substitute a piece of a leather string for the fabric and boom! The bolo tie was born.

Historian Bill Krammer literally wrote the book on bolo ties: Bola Tie: New Symbol of the West. According to him, the origins of the bolo tie can be traced back to a serendipitous moment Arizona silversmith Victor E. Cedarstaff experienced while chasing wild horses in the 1940s. While on the chase, Cedarstaff’s silver-clasped hatband slipped off, causing his hat to fly away. He salvaged his hatband and slipped it over his neck for safekeeping. His companeros noticed and complimented his new “tie.” The rest is southwestern style history.

Cedarstaff created a line of ties inspired by the incident. He braided leather, placed silver tips on the ends to keep them from fraying, and then joined the strands with a turquoise stone to be used as an adjustable clasp. He applied for a patent, calling his creation the bola tie, named after the boleadoras cords used by Argentinian cowboys.

While the exact origin of the bolo tie is uncertain, we do know it indeed emerged in the American Southwest sometime during the 1940s. It’s served as an artistic medium for American Indian artists and Southwestern silversmiths ever since.

Bolo ties became Western style staples during the 1950s and 1960s. Businessmen and politicians living in the Southwest wore bolo ties to work in lieu of traditional neckties.  

The bolo tie jumped the pond to the United Kingdom in the 1950s and became a favorite style accessory among “Teddy Boys.”

The Boss got in on the 80s bolo tie trend, rocking it on the cover of his 1987 album.

During the 1980s, the bolo tie became a nationwide fad in the United States thanks to rockabilly revivalists like Brian Setzer and the Stray Cats, and New Wave artists who wore them in music videos on newly minted MTV. Bolo ties could also be seen around the necks of several television and movie celebrities during this time. For example, before he was the nerdy dad in Two and a Half Men, Jon Cryer was a hot 1980s movie icon thanks to his breakout role as bolo tie-wearing Duckie Dale in Pretty In Pink.

Like most things during the 1980s, the bolo tie was worn in excess and soon became a tired fad. During the 1990s and 2000s, it went back to being a style piece worn mainly by cowboys and Indians living in the American Southwest.

But in recent years, the bolo tie has been popping up again. San Diego Chargers QB Philip Rivers caused a stir and bolo tie shortage in San Diego when he started wearing them to press conferences. Bruno Mars is a fan of the bolo tie. Hell, even Snoop Dog will rock a quasi-bolo every now and then.

Where to Get Bolo Ties

Of course famous photographer Ansel Adam wore a bolo tie — the guy had an eye for aesthetics.

Bolo ties come in a wide range of prices, from a few bucks to a few thousand dollars.

If you’re just stepping your toes into the world of bolo ties and don’t want to spend too much money, thrift stores and eBay are your friends. There are tons of affordable, vintage bolo ties there. What I think happens is some old man who had a considerable collection of bolo ties dies. None of his kids or grandkids want them, so they get sold in an estate sale or donated to Goodwill.

The bolo ties you find online or at thrift stores will be a mixed bag. Some will have authentic turquoise made by Indian artists and craftsmen, while others will be Made in China pieces from the 1980s bolo tie craze. At this point, don’t worry about the authenticity, just buy the ones you like.

You can also find new bolo ties at most Western clothing stores in your area. These will be a mixture of handcrafted and mass-produced ties.

You may find that your bolo tie itch has been scratched by these affordable ties. But should you catch the bolo tie bug and want something much more primo, you’ll need to make a trip to the American Southwest where you’ll find craftsmen who create these ties as real works of art. They hand shape and hand pound the silver for the clasp as well as use authentic turquoise from the area. Instead of silver, some make clasps from intricate weaving and beading. You’ll find both new and vintage pieces made by famous artists in most jewelry stores in the Southwest. Expect to pay a few hundred to a few thousand dollars for these pieces.

How to Wear a Bolo Tie

So you’ve got your bolo tie. How do you wear it so it actually looks good? Here are a few tips:

Own it. Bolo ties are controversial. They’re like bow ties or seersucker suits: People either love them or hate them. So if you’re going to wear a bolo tie, you got to own it — people’s opinions be damned. If you look embarrassed or sheepish wearing a bolo tie, it’s just going to look goofy on you. Wear it boldly!

Consider your geography. Bolo ties are an American Southwest style staple, and are associated with cowboys, Indians, industries like ranching, oil, and gas, and more rural, frontier areas. If you have a connection to one or more of those things, the bolo tie will look more natural around your neck.

If you live east of the Mississippi and don’t have these connections, the bolo tie will look more out of place.

Westerners have a lot more freedom to wear bolo ties on a regular basis and even at formal occasions like weddings and funerals. If you want to sport a bolo tie on the regular, take advantage of that liberty.

Easterners are likely limited to wearing a bolo tie to a club or a night out on the town where being a bit fashion forward and breaking the style rules are accepted. Even then, unless you have some sort of connection to the American West, the tie will likely come off as ironic rather than sincere.

Wear with Western or buttoned-down shirts. Because of their rugged and casual appearance, bolo ties are best matched with a more casual dress shirt like a Western dress shirt or any shirt with a buttoned down collar like an oxford or denim shirt. Add a sport coat with some texture and you’ve got a real sharp look.

Some folks have taken to wearing bolo ties like a necklace, sporting them with t-shirts. In my opinion, this strays too far from the bolo tie’s classic Western roots and just looks weird. Stick with shirts that have a collar.

Wear it like a regular necktie for a more formal look. The bolo tie was originally made to be worn exactly like a necktie. Button all the buttons on the front of your shirt, including the top collar button, and then slide the clasp all the way to the top of your neck. Button down the collars to your shirt.

Keepin’ it loose.

Wear it looser for a more casual look. If you’re pairing the bolo with a more casual get-up, unbutton the top button of your shirt and wear the bolo a bit more loosely around your neck.

Wear it with a suit, if you wish. Can you wear a bolo tie with a suit? You bet. It takes some chutzpah to do so though, because of the casual nature of the bolo tie. You don’t need to pair a special Western suit with the bolo. You can wear one with a traditional suit that you already have. Just wear a buttoned-down oxford, and you’re good to go. A bolo would look really weird with a spread collar.

My go-to look for the bolo tie: A pair of dark denim jeans, white button-down oxford, a brown sport coat, and a pair of cowboy boots. Simple. Classic. And the perfect combination of rugged and refined.

That’s what I like. Experiment to find what works for you. And never underestimate the bolo tie, baby.

The post Never Underestimate the Bolo Tie, Baby appeared first on The Art of Manliness.

Never Underestimate the Bolo Tie, Baby published first on https://mensproblem.tumblr.com

[goldstarrsandbigsmiles]

It’s been a long time/I shouldn’t have left you/Without a dope blog to step to

I know I’ve been neglecting this little ol’ blog of mine on account of, well, life – but seeing as my annual birthday reflections have always been a bit therapeutic, and the fact that today marks my THREE YEAR Texaversary (!!), I figured now would be a good time to jump back on the bloggin’ horse. Blorse? No? Fine.

I humbly offer my 34 lessons of the past year:

1. Expecting parents: TAKE A BABYMOON. Even if your husband thinks you made up the word. He will thank you in the end.

2. Europe is cool and all, but CANADA IS RIGHT ABOVE US. AND IT’S GORGEOUS. Why don’t Americans vacation there like all the time? British Columbia is an absolute delight, and I highly suggest it to anyone looking for a getaway.

3. Don’t tell your little brother that the ever-expanding belly button on your pregnant tummy is in a lot of pain or he will continue to poke it just to piss you off.

4. My girlfriend and I went to see Adele in concert last November, and I cried three times. Granted I was totally hormonal, but that woman really does have the most remarkable voice. Anyway, my girlfriend found out she was pregnant the next day, so I’m convinced it was an immaculate conception thanks to Adele. Like actual baby making music.

5. Definitely take a hospital tour if you’re about to give birth. It helps you understand what’s about to go down, and if you’re due around the Super Bowl, it gives your husband a chance to make pre-gaming plans with other dads-to-be on the tour that are expecting around the same time.

6. Sometimes loved ones can only become better versions of themselves if they’re no longer together. Not the easiest reality to accept, but at the end of the day, happiness is the end goal.

7. I don’t care how old you are – arts and crafts during the holidays is the BEST. We’ve developed a bit of a holiday tradition with our fam up in Dallas, and seeing Jeff channel his inner-Martha Stewart every year is pretty amazing.

8. Not being on the east coast for the holidays was super weird this past year, but I’m not gonna lie – H-town Christmas Eve in flip flops with my bestie and her hubs wasn’t the worst way to celebrate.

9. Weeks before my due date, I had a wave of panic that motherhood would result in me neglecting all of my friendships and destroy the most important relationships I worked my whole life to maintain. Then my other bestie immediately booked a flight down for the weekend to convince me otherwise, and I remembered how lucky I am.

10. Pretty sure all those old wives tales of things to induce pregnancy are only to send you on a distracting wild goose chase for random crap so you’re not thinking about how badly you want that baby out of your freaking body.

11. Everyone makes it sound like childbirth is crazy painful. In my experience, that was the easy part. The contractions while naked in the bathroom trying to put on my hospital gown…THAT was the most painful. Thankfully it was short-lived, but GOOD LORD it felt like an eternity. #epidurallife

12. Contractions aside, Max Hudson came into this world with eyes wide open, literally and figuratively. The way his big puppy dog brown peepers stared into my soul when he first laid upon my chest was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. Scratch that, the most surreal experience of my life.

13. I feel like people should be a bit more honest and open about dealing with life post-partum. I think I would have felt much better knowing that everyone’s lady bits were a crime scene for a good portion of time. Mamas, let’s talk about it.

14. Can’t produce breast milk? Producing too much breast milk? Short nipples (apparently it’s a thing, who knew)? DO YOU, GIRL. Formula, breast feeding, pumping, whatevs. Feed that baby however you can and let go of any guilt, because mommin’ is hard enough.

15. Paying for a baby nurse to help when we got back from the hospital was the best money I have ever spent in my entire life.

16. I feel like being a camp counselor and PR manager has always nurtured the maternal streak in me, but seeing the Papa Bear light go off in Jeff’s head (and heart, for that matter) has been one of the most fascinating outcomes of parenthood. I’ve never seen him love anything or anyone so much.

17. I am AMAZED with how many wonderful friends and family have made the trek down to visit us and meet our little man. It’s been wild seeing people who have known us when since were young knuckleheads be a part of this exciting new phase of life.

18. People that visit and offer to help with night feeds are the best ever and deserve a gold medal upon departure.

19. As eager as one may be to get back out and start working off that baby weight, your crotch may feel otherwise. Ladies, listen to your crotch.

20. Babies with big bellies in bathing suits are hilarious. Say that first part three times fast.

21. Maternity leave is this bizarre moment in time when society doesn’t judge you for putting family before professional advancements. It’s beautiful, exhausting and so, so special.

22. At the beginning of mommy hood, I realized how good of a day I had was completely correlated to the amount of sleep I had the night before. No real lesson there – just a dreadful reality.

23. I’m still amazed at how proud of I was for taking Max on a walk to get stamps when he was around four weeks or so. It was such an ordeal getting him out of the apartment – and amazingly enough, in present day, I genuinely have no recollection of what I was so busy doing.

24. Speaking of, I feel bad when my new mom friends ask me for tips and I can’t remember the answers. “How soon did I let him nap in the Boppy? How much formula did I supplement while my milk was coming in? Damn…I’m so sorry, I have no idea.” You really do reach a blackout phase, which I have to believe is so it’s easier to consider more kids down the road. But don’t get it twisted, the thought of having more than one is still completely terrifying.

25. It’s so wild seeing my dad and brother play with and show affection to Max. They’ve yet to hang out with him at the same time, and yet their interactions are almost identical. I guess love is pretty genetic.

26. Moms of newborns: Have questions but too tired to look into answers? Email your partner while he’s at work what you need to research, nap when the baby does (if you can) and wake up to an inbox of Cliff’s Notes. It’s the best way to get shit done.

27. Four month sleep regressions are a thing. And they effing suck. But they’re also temporary, so take deep breaths…and take it one day at a time.

28. If someone offers to help, SAY YES. AND THANK YOU.

29. Want to take walks with your kid in Houston? Mini stroller clip fans. Clutch buy for Clutch City summers.

30. We are lucky Max has two grandfathers that love cooking – taking one thing off our plate whenever they visit. Please, please, please come visit any time for baby snuggles…and Jess feedings. ALL THE FOOD.

31. One of my favorite moments of the past year is having my little cousins meet Max. I am giddy with the idea of them growing up together, hopefully making as many beautiful memories as I have with my cousins.

32. My mother has given me many gifts in this lifetime, but the greatest gift she will ever give me is sleep training Max this summer. Those glorious 11/12 hours every night to do us, or heaven forbid – rest – are GAME CHANGERS. Thank you so much, Sleepy – you have certainly lived up to your name.

33. My mother-in-law recently baby proofed our house and has provided nearly every single toy that Max has in his arsenal. Her help has been life-altering, and I continue to be amazed by what that woman is able to do with a thread and needle…or hammer and nail.

34. Contrary to my biggest fears, the PR world did not forget about me while I took time off. I am so grateful for such wonderful colleagues and opportunities to continue what I love doing professionally. The balance will always be a work in progress, but catching my stride and getting back in the game has truly never felt better.

Feeling good, 34. Let’s do this.

[sending-the-message]

I’m severely regretting posting a photo of my great-grandfather online [UPDATE] by kapekilp

My previous post

I’m really sorry it took me a while to update. I’m sure you’ll understand why, when you know what happened.

Things took an unexpected turn.

Basically, after my post – I went to sleep and woke up just to find the letter, and my Mum had gone out. It was quite late, but I figured that she’d gone out to clear her head.

I was about to start reading, when I realised how very late it was. It was like 2AM. My Mum must have set out earlier. She'd been gone for quite some time. It was awfully late for a walk... I just got the sense that something was wrong. I decided to leave the letter and go after her.

I paced all the routes she usually walks, but I couldn’t find her anywhere. I was running here and there and everywhere I could think of, in the dead of the night, calling her name, getting frantic. I tried calling her on her mobile phone, but there was no reply.

It was just awful, absolutely terrifying, on top of everything else. The unthinkable things that were running through my head… I’m sure you can imagine.

I searched until dawn, and eventually called the police to report her missing. It was awful, because it was a hollow feeling… I felt their help would be useless. It was just a terrible, bleak, tension-filled day, as I waited to hear back. One day turned into two. I began to think I might never see her again.

Eventually – well, it was a relief in some ways. Because she turned up in hospital - alive - but she was injured. She'd been found in the street, unconscious, without any identifying information. Bruised and bloody. They were able to ID her only when she woke up and told them her name, which is when they phoned me. When she was able to properly speak, she says that she hadn’t been paying attention to her surroundings, and she’d been violently mugged – her handbag taken.

I’ll be honest. I don’t know what to think. She might be lying. What are the chances that we… uncover what we do, and the same day, Mum gets put in hospital with such serious damage?

My Mum is insisting that it really just was just a case of her being so shaken and disturbed that night, that she ended up aimlessly walking into a dangerous situation, much less vigilant than she would normally be, because she was so distracted and upset at that time. I don’t know what to think. I’m not going to cross-examine her too much, though. She’s too shaken, after everything combined.

So: I’m sure you’ll understand why things have been so messed up, that I simply was not able to face the computer to update. I hadn’t even been able to concentrate to properly read her letter fully, actually. It’s only now that she’s back and safe in bed, that I’ve been able to focus enough to read the letter and so, I’m finally typing it up for you.

Here’s the letter she wrote that night, before all this:

Kate,

I hardly know where to begin. How can I possibly condense the complex, beguiling character of that man, my grandfather, down to just a few pages? I have so many thoughts, so many memories. I never wanted to burden you with them. Besides, I could never be certain how much of it was just my childish mind, my imagination.

I suppose now I know. I wish I didn’t. How I wish I could have died with the happier memories at the forefront of my mind, without having to think about the rest. But I can’t pretend any longer. I need to tell you everything I remember. If I don’t, it’s possible that I might be putting you in danger. Without knowledge, you are blind, and potentially vulnerable, and I don’t want you in that position.

There were always signs, I suppose.

For one thing... his mind was certainly, different. He was so uniquely clever, so wise. Those same things that once made me admire him so much, now make me shudder, thinking back. He could speak with advanced competence on any number of subjects. And his mental agility, my God. He’d be able to work out complex calculations in a flash. His memory was next to none – he’d read something, and be able to recite it word-for-word months later, or be able to remember names and faces and conversations with astonishing detail, years after a mundane encounter. His charm snared him many friends. He had that ability to make everyone he spoke to feel like they were the most important person in the world. And he doted on me, his only grandchild. I remember, I’d ask him what job he did when he was younger: he’d laugh, and tell me ‘Something of everything’.

And he wasn’t just worldly wise. He seemed to have this innate sense about people. He seemed to be able to guess my thoughts, sometimes. He had an uncanny ability to know what I was thinking. At the time, I used to think it was all just par for the course. All children think so, don’t they? When they’re little, they think their elders are limitless fountains of knowledge. So when I looked back with an adult’s eye, I really did think I was maybe confusing my memories with my childish over-admiration. I could never tell where my memories stopped, and where my adoring imagination had coloured them a little too much.

But I remember one particular memory that stands out.

I’d been naughty at school one day. There was a girl in my class – her name was Sandra. She had gotten a beautiful doll as a present from her Uncle, who lived abroad. She brought it into the class to show it off. International travel wasn’t quite so very commonplace as it is today, you have to remember. We’d never seen anything like that doll before – the whole class was clamouring to see. The doll was a rarity, with gorgeous jet black hair and a darling pretty face, and a beautiful, intricate dress. My young heart was in love with it, and brimming with jealousy. What made matters worse: I hated Sandra. She was mean and pulled my hair, and pushed me over during break. She was spoiled and nasty to me. She didn’t deserve such a beautiful doll.

When everyone was outside, I sneaked in, and, my heart beating fast, I took the doll from inside her desk, and put it into my bag. The girl didn’t realise, and we all went home. I didn’t dare risk taking the doll out of my bag to play with, or my parents would recognise the strange toy. But I was elated to have her in my possession. Or at the very least, out of Sandra’s possession.

As I got home, though, the guilt started to gnaw away at me.

At dinnertime, my parents didn’t say anything, of course – it was business as usual. But Grandpa was visiting us. And he knew. I could tell he just knew.

He closed one eye and scrutinised me. He’d always do that, when I had something to hide. Look at me through that dark, brown eye. (I have never seen anyone with irises those particular shades, ever, other than him, even with other people with chimera eyes or otherwise. One was such an intensely dark brown that it was almost black, and the other was an unusually deep green).

When he looked at me like that, it would feel as if he could see my soul. He did that a lot -not only with me. He would stop sometimes, and squint one eye, appraising things. Looking back as an adult, I thought it was just an odd, perhaps endearing, habit of his.

At that time, though, I spent the entire dinner that evening, feeling weighed down by guilt… and terror, because I could tell by the way he was staring at me, that somehow, he knew exactly what I’d done. When we were done with dinner – I wasn’t able to stomach a single bite - he took me aside to another room, where Mama and Papa couldn’t hear. And he asked me what I’d done. First I tried to lie. I couldn’t hide it from him. He started to look angry. I couldn’t bear him being angry at me.

I finally broke down and told him. In tears, I went to get my bag from my room and showed him the doll that wasn’t mine. He looked stern, and told me to return the doll to the girl. I did – I got to school early and quietly returned the doll to Sandra’s desk, before anyone realised it was gone.

A few weeks later, my Grandpa gave me a present, wrapped up. It was a doll, just like Sandra’s, except with an even nicer dress, with a note congratulating me for doing the right thing in the end, and telling me never to make the same mistake again. I loved him so much for that.

He was so sharp – his mind. He never seemed to sleep – he’d be pouring over books in his library until the small hours, or going for long, midnight walks (to ruminate, he told me. It's a habit I inherited). But he was bodily strong, too. I clearly remember he could pick things up easily, like they were nothing. Even when they were too heavy for my Papa - his son, who was by no means a weak man.

I also remember that my Papa said Grandpa had never been ill a day of his life. His hair was almost all white, but he was still strong in body and mind, and hardly had any wrinkles at all, except for some fine laughter lines around his eyes. I remember him just like he was in that photograph. He was always so active and he’d exercise with such rigour, such discipline – and say it was important to keep his muscles active before he wasted away. He always told me it was important to keep healthy and eat right, too.

I wonder now, if all that healthy living was really just a front, so none of us would suspect?

My Dad told me he never went to the doctor a day in his life. He never did get any illness or infection – no matter what we came home with – no cold or flu ever struck him down, even when it had torn through the rest of the household. As it was, we just accepted that his meticulously healthy lifestyle had meant that he’d aged remarkably well and remained so healthy. Faced with such a situation, would you ever think anything else?

All in all, he was such a clever, upstanding, well-loved man… it was so easy to overlook those more difficult memories. To forget them entirely, even.

One day, we went out on a walk – I was staying at his house during the school holidays, as I often did. He took me to the shops. It turned out to be one of the worst days of my childhood.

I can’t remember the trip itself: while it was happening, I didn’t know that I would ever have such sinister reasons to recall it. I just remember though, that partway through, after speaking to someone, he came away angry. So furious – I’ve never seen him that way. I think there had been a run-in, an argument with someone.

I’d been distracted the whole time because I was clutching a chocolate bar I wanted him to buy for me, and I was tugging on his shirt, and then I looked up at him and saw the reason he wasn’t paying attention to me. He was so angry, he wasn’t even seeing me.

He ended our outing early (boy, did I know better than to pester him about the chocolate bar again… I put it down so fast). He took me home, not saying a word. He didn’t join us for dinner.

I had all but forgotten about it – except that I heard him getting up to leave the house, in the middle of the night. He often did go for late walks, but somehow, the noise he was making – hurried, agitated – just signalled to me that something was wrong. I got up in the dark, padded across the carpet barefoot, clutching my nightgown about me – and met him in the hallway, on his way out. He was dressed up in a long, dark coat. He was surprised to see me. He picked me up and kissed my forehead. Took me back to my bed and tucked me in. Told me not to worry.

‘You might hear some strange sounds, though, Anna,’ he said. ‘If you hear the sound of screaming, put your fingers in your ears, and close your eyes. Do you understand?’

I nodded and he closed my bedroom window, drew the curtains, and went out again.

I didn’t hear anything in that first part of the night, but I didn’t sleep a wink. I kept tossing and turning, wondering where he was, what he was doing, why had he said what he did? Was he ok? Whose screaming did he anticipate? His own? Someone else’s? Why wasn’t I supposed to listen?

I kept my ears strained, but didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary.

When he came home some hours later, he shut the door gently, and made almost no noise on the stairs. He was trying to be quiet, get back into his room undisturbed, but I was wide awake and alert, and my ears were straining for any small sound. My heart leapt when I heard him come in. I’d been so scared that something would happen to him.

I clambered off the bed, and ran, shivering, to meet him again on the stairs.

I had never before seen him as he was that night. The sight knocked the breath out of me.

For one thing, he was injured. He was limping and bruised, and his lip torn. I had never thought that he would have been at the losing end of a fight. He was unnaturally strong. I honestly can’t remember any time before that night, when I had seen him with any injury whatsoever – never even a scrape. The sight would have made me feel sorry for him.

But what kept my sympathy choked up was this.

The second thing: he looked furiously angry. A determined, savage look in his eyes. Cold. I’m afraid to say it, but he looked… almost cruel. I ran to him, and held out my arms, uncertain what to say, but wanting to reassure him… and needing reassurance myself.

For the first time in my memory, he didn’t hug me, he barely looked at me. I reached out to him, but he avoided my touch, irritated. Something he’d never done before, ever.

I went back to bed, desolate. So upset that my dear Grandpa was hurt. But I felt wounded that he’d ignored me, and treated me so coldly. So incredibly unlike his normal self. I cried myself to sleep, wallowing in self-pity and confusion.

My tears had exhausted me, and I was almost asleep, when the sound of the first scream came.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to convey to you, Katie, what a sound that was. It was unlike any human sound I have ever heard. The very sound filled me with such a deep, intense terror, that I forgot all my thoughts, everything was knocked out of my head. It felt like I did not exist anymore. It felt like I was just a body filled with fear. The sound seemed to evoke something primal in me. A fear so intense, I never thought possible. A fear so deep, it physically hurt.

I could barely breathe, I could barely move, and I was soaked in sweat and my bedsheets clung to my clammy body, but somehow I managed drag the covers over my head. That’s when the next scream came. That’s when I remembered what Grandpa had said, and I put my fingers in my ears so tightly that my ear canals ached. Whatever it was that was making that sound… I didn’t even want to think about it. I screwed my eyes shut and curled up my knees to my face. I didn’t sleep. Every time I got close to dozing, I jerked awake, because I was afraid my hands would become loose and fall away from my ears. I couldn’t risk that.

The next morning, Grandpa came down. He said nothing, still looking stern. And what was even more unsettling: his injuries were all gone.

I remember staring at him, astonished, but he said nothing, nor did he look at me. He just went back to his books after breakfast.

I suppose I thought I must have imagined everything.

Except, a few days later, there was an unexplained death – a man was found with unusual injuries. They said he seemed to have been pulverised somehow, except they couldn’t explain it. The work didn’t seem like anything a human could do: they suspected perhaps some extreme disease They’d identified him by his dental records. I remember looking at the photo in the paper. I was certain I’d seen him in the shop that day.

I was too afraid to ask Grandpa about it. The news died out in a few days. And I suppose, so did my memory: as he returned to normal, my loving, clever, kind Grandpa, I forgot all about it.

The second time I heard the screams, was a few years later. I was about ten years old.

That time, it wasn’t just one night, but three nights in a row. And it all came back. I did as he’d told me that first time, and put my fingers in my ears. In the mornings, it would feel as though nothing had happened.

But then came the news that there was a young man missing from our neighbourhood. Worry seemed to gnaw at me. I don’t think would ever have linked the two things together – except for the fact that I noticed that Grandpa seemed uneasy whenever my parents discussed the missing man, or saw an article about him, or any time anyone expressed any concern about the case.

Again, my mind made excuses. It was a coincidence. I resolutely ignored it.

Some days later, I read in the newspaper that the missing man was found. Alive, thankfully. But with puzzling injuries: internal haemorrhaging. He was ranting and raving about a large, black, terrifying winged creature. And screams that had almost torn up his body.

As soon as I read that, I looked at my Grandpa. We were sitting at opposite ends of the dinner table while I read the newspaper over dinner. His eyes met mine. Those uncanny, wise, chimera eyes. And for once, it was me who was reading his wrongdoings. And, through that strange, dark eye of his, he could read me. He knew that I knew.

But, as the years wore on… I don’t know. . When it’s all written out together like this, it seems undeniably terrible. Ominous. But when these events are like rare blips, with long stretches of unremarkable, completely normal days all the rest of the while… it’s so easy to forget. It’s easy to cajole yourself into disbelief.

You have to understand, I didn’t have the collective knowledge of the internet. I knew nothing about those terrible legends. The lore. All I knew was what I had seen and heard, the dead of the night. I had only disjointed evidence at best. I knew nothing about where the screams originated. I had no direct evidence that my Grandpa was involved at all, only that he had given me that singlular warning. My parents knew nothing of what had been going on. The only person who knew was my Grandpa, when he gave no indication that anything was wrong, it was difficult for me to believe otherwise. When the days went back to normal, those memories felt only like vague nightmares – less and less vivid, and less believable, with the passage of time.

Besides, when you love someone, you make excuses. You want push things under the rug. You don’t want to face the truth. When you’re little, you doubt you even know the truth. The years matured me, and I became certain that my infant brain had been over-sensationalising things. How could my Grandpa –with his upright, moral character, his kindness, his wisdom – how could he possibly be connected with anything sinister?

A I approached my middle teens, Grandpa started to talk more and more about how he wouldn’t be around forever. He laid it on thick with the life advice. More conversations revolved around what to do when he wasn’t around anymore. It made my heart so sad to hear him speak like that. I’d tell him he was as fit as a fiddle… that he shouldn’t talk so pessimistically. He was healthier than my Papa – his own son.

He would wave my protests aside and tell me to be serious. He would talk to me about my life plans. He would tell me about things to be wary of. He would tell me that I needed to be careful, make wise decisions.

But then I noticed, steadily, he began to deteriorate.

My brave strong, grandfather. He would stop and look around with that dark eye of his. And he’d start. Sometimes, he would lose track of conversations, distracted. He started crying out in the night.

Papa suspected dementia. Or some other mental illness. We’d never seen him so distracted, so confused before. Combined with his incessant talk of his demise, I finally began to get concerned. We mentioned getting examined at a doctor, but he resolutely refused.

It went on for some time. We were scheduled to on a family holiday – my parents and I (Grandpa never came with us on our trips) but I didn’t want to leave him. My parents left without me, and I stayed with him. And that’s when it happened.

One night in particular, I could hear him pacing rummaging around in his study. I laid awake and wondered. His eyes roamed, always distracted and didn’t focus on my conversation.

I couldn’t get rid of the awful feeling that he wasn’t losing his mind. It was much worse. Much more sinister. He was confused and vulnerable, because for the first time in his life – he was distracted, because and he was finally afraid of something. I think I found this thought worse than anything else.

I thought about it all night long. For some reason, it was all coming back to me, those supressed thoughts. The memory of the screams. The body. The missing man. My grandfather’s uncanny sharpness, his charm, his knowledge, his strength and perception. It wasn’t natural. Why was he like this? What was he?

Was everything catching up with him now? Was that why he was afraid?

I drifted into an uneasy slumber.

And that was when I had the nightmare.

I dreamt that I heard something from Grandpa’s study. In my dream, I rose from my bed and went towards the study. The lights wouldn’t turn on, so I just crept down the stairs and through the hall in the darkness. I was shivering, because the heating wasn’t on. It was winter, and it was cold. Was there a power-cut?

I reached the corridor leading to the study, and stopped. There was a dark, figure standing in the corridor, facing away from me. A man in a coat, with the hood up over his head.

‘Grandpa?’ I said.

The figure turned around. His face was obscured in the darkness.

‘So you’re his granddaughter,’ he said, turning around. He spoke in a low, but clear voice. Rasping, slightly. ‘I would never have taken that creature for a family man.’

I took a step back and wanted to run away, but seemed frozen.

‘Look what your grandfather did to me.’

He lowered his hood.

It was a terrible face. Withered, melted features. He looked like a walking corpse.

I think might have gasped, or screamed.

My grandfather emerged from the door behind him – from the study.

The man in the coat took a step forward, and grabbed me. Pulled me to him, and turned around, so we were both facing my Grandpa. My back was to this man-corpse, and his/its arm was around me, pulling me into his chest.

‘Every villain has its weakness, then,’ said the man-corpse, speaking evenly. ‘Even wicked monsters such as yourself.’

I was crying, silently.

‘Let us see you call your helper. Call him upon me again to finish the job. It’ll kill your Anna too.’ I felt his chest heave behind me, against my back, as he laughed, a humourless laugh. ‘After all: you have no hesitation killing the children of others.’

Grandpa was looking at me, his mouth set into a hard line.

He made a sudden move, and wrenched me away from the man. He pushed me away. I fell into the floor bodily, winded.

‘Run,’ he said.

He was distracted in saving me.

I heard a gunshot.

I saw Grandpa fall to the floor.

I heard the man laughing.

And then I fainted.

I woke up in my own bed. It was daytime. Sunlight was pouring through the window. It was a cold, clear day. It took me a while to remember everything. But when I did, God, can you imagine my relief to learn that it was all a dream?

I rushed from my bed, my feet getting tangled up in my sheets. When I managed to extract myself, I ran to the study downstairs.

And my heart sank when I saw the door was open.

His books and papers were dishevelled and strewn out. There was blood everywhere.

I think, for some time, I lost my mind. I wasn’t able to follow, or even provide any lucid evidence for, the police investigation that followed. I just knew it was pointless.

I didn’t know what to believe. All these years, I couldn’t understand if it had been a dream or not. All these years, I was so confused. If it hadn’t been a dream – if the dream had just been the product of me hearing sounds in the night – then he was still dead and gone. He had been so uncharacteristically nervous, those last few days. If it hadn’t been a dream – I had seen him die. I had caused him to die. And he’d died a villain.

Over the years, my love for him overwhelmed me once again. I was able to reason with myself, that those things I’d seen were just my imagination. The screams were just coincidence: someone drunk, screaming in the street perhaps, and I’d exaggerated the sound in my mind later on. Wild, nonsensical stuff, made up by my child’s brain. It was all ridiculous. Beyond ridiculous.

That the last night had been a dream – caused by the violent noises of a robbery that had killed my grandfather, as the police hypothesised. They’d ransacked the house (much of Grandpa’s things were missing) and gotten rid of his body. The therapist validated my reason. I learned to love and admire my Grandpa again, just as I had known him, outside of those terrible nights.

Today, that was all destroyed.

Never, never, even in my wildest, most frightened thoughts, had I imagined the sheer scale of it. Never had I thought he might be alive, still. Even if I had, tentatively, thought that there was a chance that he escaped that night alive… I didn’t think he would still be alive today, so many years on. Never. I knew he was unnaturally healthy for his age… but that he’s been around, and feared, for centuries? God. The thought of it.

I knew him as loving, but the world around him did not. And I suppose I caught glimpses of that other perspective. And I know now - I knew only a small fraction of his life, of his character.

I don’t blame you, my darling, for uncovering all this. It pains me, yes. But we must face up to the truth, no matter how sinister, how terrible, it is.

END OF MUM'S LETTER

So, there it is.

You know, I think I’m going to try and research find to out everything I can about him, now. All the lore surrounding him.

Seeing my mother in hospital… I’ll admit, it was a frightening shock. I still don’t know what happened, or the true extent of things, and I have no idea what this man(?) is capable of. He seems to had that dark undercurrent, that was much larger, and much darker, than my Mum could have known.

But I do think it is better for us to be armed with knowledge than blindly wandering in the dark. If anyone saw the original post on OldSchoolCool and commented there, with their experiences or legends about him from your area, I’d appreciate if you could share with me anything you know via PM.

I’m going to try and find out everything. I have no idea what I’m doing, or where to begin. I can barely gather my thoughts, or make up my mind what to believe or how to think or interpret things. It’s so confusing, and so ominous, all of it. I don't know where it'll take me. But I have to do something.

I’ll try and compile all I find out, and keep you updated.

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