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anne-i-write · 4 years

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moriarty the patriot headcannons

| requested by anon: can you write headcanons for moriarty brothers meeting and having dinner with s/o's parents for the first time? and s/o's father is overprotective. thanks 🤍🙆🏻 |

william x reader; louis x reader; albert x reader

word count: 1857

tw: mentions of toxic behavior in albert’s hcs

a/n: IM BACK AND THRIVING BBS!!! it’s so good to be back again to writing!!! hhh i’m so sorry if this is far from what you wanted but i hope you all enjoy it nonetheless!!!! lowkey went off the railings w this one so 👀 also if i missed any tags, please let me know!!!!!

william: 803 words

it had been you and your father since you were younger bc your mom was the “lucky” choice of some noble

but you wouldn’t have it any other way

you two are very close and everyone in the town knows

that, and that you both hate nobles

so it’s no surprise when the moriartys move into town, you’re both less than pleased

you always try your best to avoid them whenever they come into your town and your father always begs his friends to take the nobles as customers, despite the fact it could be good for business

but the town you lived in was particularly small and you did end up bumping into william

literally

some stupid man didn’t see you crossing the road and you were nearly crushed by the carriage if it hadn’t been for the hand that pulled at your wrist

“i swear people these days don’t know how to drive carriages.”

you don’t know who you were expecting

BUT ANYONE BUT A NOBLE

“are you alright?”

“i’m fine thank you—“

you’re absolutely flustered

how did i not know that this was a noble??? he smells so clean!

“i’ve got to be on my way now!” and you left william there with no explanation

but lil did you know he actually knew who you were

or to an extent, you weren’t as sneaky as you’d hoped you’d be

he saw you hiding in corners and alleyways every time you two accidentally made eye contact

and some of the townsfolk actually told him a little about you and your father so he understood why you weren’t too welcoming

but to take great lengths to avoid him??? he is very intrigued

so he starts off small, trying to send you a kind smile before you dart off behind a fruit stall

he really tries his best to get close to you and after a few weeks (and a few persuasive friends), he finally gets to hold a conversation with you

and boy does he fall FAST

it takes a while but you finally reciprocate his feelings and he thinks its smooth sailing from there right???

lmao everyone knows your father is literally the most intimidating looking man that could ever walk the earth

if they didn’t know him personally, they would be afraid of getting curb stomped 🤠

i mean,, he’s a big softie but god forbid anyone even DARES to look at you in a romantic light

you warn william of this and he’s like “don’t worry love, it shouldn’t be too bad”

it is bad

even william has cold hands bc your father is giving him the dirtiest look

dinner isn’t even dinner it’s a grill with how much questions your father is asking him

it does NOT help that he’s a noble

“so,,, you’re a noble”

“your cooking is amazing sir”

your father leaves the table for a little bit and you can hear the quiet sigh of relief from william

“i’m sorry for my father”

“no, no,,, i just,,, your father’s really intimidating, isn’t he?”

you let out a chuckle and william relaxed, a soft smile gracing his lips

“he can be, but it’s just something he does.” you threw a wistful gaze at the door your father disappeared before.

“he’s just worried about you, i can see it. he doesn’t want you around people like me.” you grabbed his hand over the table and he gently squeezed your hand.

“if anything, if he’d give you a chance, he’d want me to be with you. noble or not”

you both continue to have a delightful conversation, your sweet laughs filling the room

however, you didn’t know your father was listening in on your conversation and he couldn’t agree more with william

your mother left with more than just a curt goodbye and unshed tears

she left you with a tear stained letter filled with sorrowful regrets and sincere apologies

he knew you would eventually grow up to be critical of the world and if you were to find out that your mother had left unwillingly, he was afraid that you would be too bitter towards the world

but as he hears your laugh and his worries are dulled down a little

he sees you smiling so happily at william and when he chances a glance at the noble beside you, his worries are completely erased

william’s looking at you the same way everyone swore he looked at your mother

it’s a gentle gaze filled with love and kindness, one that he knew could protect you and take care of you

your father hated nobles and hovered over you when it came to love

but he couldn’t help but hold back on questions when he came back and you instantly noticed that your father took a liking william

louis: 508 words

everyone knew you as “Little Noble” in your town

the sole reason being your father literally treating you like a noble lmao

he gave you the best of everything he could afford and tried his best to not let you do any work

tried

of course, you were a little angel and you HAD to help otherwise you’d cry about making someone else tired when you could’ve easily helped

you’ve carried this trait until your early twenties and there were no signs that you would stop

hence why you were bringing home some fresh fruits from the stall clerk before a man bumps into you

you were so caught off guard that your knee buckled and you fell on your butt

everyone was stunned into silence as you fell but louis was so apologetic

so when he helped you back up, he felt the chilling stares of the town burning into his back

and then you apologize for bumping into him when he was the one who bumped into you and you fell??????

“please, let me make you something! i feel so bad!”

he tries to decline but there was this odd pressure to say yes to you

he ends up going home with you

you’re both in front of the door before your father opens it, his eyes wide

“who is this boy?”

“oh, i didn’t get his name on the way here. what is your name?”

your poor father’s heart is pounding way too fast for his liking

“oh! look at that, thank you so much for bringing my child home! you should be going home now”

he tries to shut the door on louis but you hold it open and beckon louis inside

“i invited him here! i accidentally bumped into him earlier so i offered to make him something!”

louis is so awkward pls

your father reluctantly lets him in but gives him a side eye the whole time he’s in the house

“does your child do this often?”

“why? do you find it strange?”

YOUR FATHER IS SO PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE PLEASE SAVE LOUIS

anyways, you finish making your treat and give it to louis, your father glaring at your interaction

louis is still a little stiff but the more you talk to him, his guard is let down a little

soon enough he has to leave and you wish him well

he leaves with a wave and a kind smile and you look over at your father who had been scowling since you appeared at the front door

“he is a bit cute, don’t you think father?”

your father sputters, stunned by your bold claim

“y-you’re still too young to think about men like that!”

you laugh and shut the front door, teasing your poor father about finding love while also wondering if you would meet louis again

as you talk with your father behind closed doors, louis smiles to himself as he thinks about the unusual encounter today

surely, if i met them again tomorrow, it would make for a pleasant day

albert: 546 words

he meets your father before he meets you

it was during a ball your parents organized in order to connect with the more prestigious nobles around you

your parents were obsessed with the way your family was viewed and apparently being an earl wasn’t enough

so albert hears about you when your father boasts about how you’re the perfect child who answered to his every beck and call

in all honesty, albert was disgusted

no one deserved to be brought up like that

he casually makes his way into the conversation and your father is seething

“my child is your age, it’s a shame you act like this, i would have thought of you as a prime husband for them”

who is this earl to tell him what to do?

needless to say your father crosses him off of the guest list for the next ball

days go by and your father doesn’t know that you’re currently in town, doing what you can to help the working class as best as you can

it is on one particular day of visiting an orphanage do you run into the eldest moriarty brother

you two exchange polite greetings and you both pause

“your father is the earl, is he not?”

“you are a general of the army, are you not?”

a brief mention of your father and your mood dulls slightly

“yes, but i’m here on my own accord”

he would kill you if he found out you were amongst the “filth” as he called them

“well, i’ve brought books for the children, would you like to help me read some to them?”

he seemed sincere enough to not want anything more from you, so you agreed

he was actually very pleasant to be around and you find yourself enjoying his company

the meetups continued to happen and soon enough, albert finds himself standing in front of the doors to your family estate

your father is not pleased at all

“it’s nice to meet you again, sir”

“i didn’t forget about what you said to me at our first meeting”

and you’re sitting there like,, ????? they’ve met??? and your father doesn’t like albert???????

of course, inviting albert to your home would have repercussions but you didn’t expect your father to be so hostile

he was always hostile towards other nobles unless they were of higher importance than him

but for him to hate albert so quickly and openly??? this was quite new

you had mentioned that your father has always been one for power so it was clear to albert that you obviously grew up in a home that was more,,, toxic than protective

it was at dinner that this behavior reached its peak and albert despised the atmosphere and the way your father treated you

“i’ve come here to ask for your child’s hand in marriage”

your father rejects the idea without any hesitation

“i refuse to have them live the rest of their life in your household when they could do so much better”

when you invited albert that night, you knew there would be repercussions with your father

but what you didn’t expect was that you would leave your father and adopt the moriarty name as your own, the family welcoming you with open arms

moriarty the patriot taglist: @zoehanji

#moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty #william james moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #louis james moriarty #louis james moriarty x reader

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bottlecapbaby · 4 years

Note

Romance Companions reacting to find out sole is pregnant?

COMBO

Daddy?

Cait: Um. Shit. She doesn’t know what babies want! She can scarcely believe she ever was one at this point. She absolutely does not think she’s fit to be a mom, but she also trusts Sole, and would much rather travel down the long difficult road of learning how to child rear than having Sole run off to raise it alone or with someone else. So she’s gonna buckle down and get to work. Maybe even read a book. She knows that Sole has had a baby before, which is a big load off of her mind, but she doesn’t want to admit things like not knowing what babies eat, so MacCready is about to be saddled with a new student.

Curie: Literally ecstatic, so happy she pretty much forgot to be scared about the fact that she doesn’t have all of the necessary skills to raise a human child. She was never a child, and she was never a human, much less a human child. Honestly, she’s probably most excited about supplies and getting together a nursery-- painting a spare room, getting a crib, collecting toys while the two of you are out exploring. Literally every teddy bear you come across, she makes a beeline, going “Oh madame, isn’t this just darling? Don’t you think our little bundle will love it?”

Danse: Danse is surprisingly not so concerned. He’s overjoyed, and he can’t imagine that raising a baby can be that hard, considering how many people he has seen who have become fully mature adults, which implies they survived infancy. He’s excited, he thinks it will be more fun than it is work, and that his strict sense of authority will be able to sway a baby into obedience. MacCready and Sole are constantly looking into the camera like they’re on the office when Danse talks about how he imagines fatherhood.

Deacon: He is terrified. So, so fucking scared. But he wants it sooooo bad. He always kinda imagined he and Barbara having a family, and meeting Sole was one second chance he never imagined he would get, to have a baby as well is just too good to be true. He is constantly waking up Sole in the middle of the night to ask questions about child raising. “Hey, can babies have peanut butter? Oh god, what if our kid is allergic. What if I make him a peanut butter sandwich and he DIES?!” “Deacon, when was the last time we even found any peanut butter? Go the fuck to sleep.”

Hancock: Life is miraculous isn’t it? He’s scared, but like a good scared, like thrilled and anxious, like he’s about to go on a big rollercoaster. He’s not so worried about what it will be like, all that matters is that he and Sole and this kid will be together, and as long as he has Sole with him he knows that things will be just fine.

Gage: The logical, practical side of him is abjectly against it. The side of him that will literally do anything to spend the rest of his life with Sole can’t deny the appeal. Things are a little more complicated with him, because of Nuka-World. If Sole is really set on this, he’s gotta come up with some type of plan on how to deal with things. But on the side of fatherhood? He’s experiencing a constant level of inner panic. He knows how not to be like his own father, but that’s really all he knows for sure. He’s scared to death that this kid will come out hating his guts. He knows he isn’t easy to get along with, he’s not sensitive or caring as far as he knows, but Sole sees something in him, and that’s enough to give him the courage to try this.

MacCready: He’s probably crying just at the idea. His life was so blessed, so perfect when Duncan was born. Things got worse when Lucy died. Now he has Sole, and he thought he’d gotten just about as many strokes of luck as one man was allowed in this life. But holy crap, another kid?! He’s excited as fuck, not to mention he already has experience.

Nick Valentine: Never in his conscious life had he considered family a possibility for him. Not only did he think no one would have him, but he also never counted on himself as the fatherly type. He’s fine with kids, sure, maybe even great with them. But he never saw himself as someone who could raise them. He wants to try, he really does, he wants to do this with Sole. But he’s also painfully aware of the fact that he’s not exactly a spring chicken. He wouldn’t call himself old, not exactly, but he can’t deny the state of disrepair he’s in, and he won’t last forever. Honestly? His biggest fear is that his kid will be scared of him. His ruined face, the gaps in his skin, not to mention his skeletal hand. Sole can deal with it, sure, but a kid? He isn’t so sure.

Old Longfellow: His own mortality hits him in the face, hard. He’s always kind of liked the idea of getting to look after a kid of his own, spend time with them, teach ‘em how to fish and hunt. At this point in his life, he thought that ship had sailed, but with Sole he’s not sure that anything is impossible. He’s happy, but he feels somewhat bittersweet on the whole thing. He might drink less, try to eat a little better, his biggest fear is that he’ll bite the big one while his kid still needs him.

Piper: Oh my god. Really? Like, this isn’t some elaborate joke? Oh my god. Piper is happy, happy in a way she never even imagined was possible, she never realized that this could ever happen in her life, between her dedication to her job and how she’s had to take care of Nat. And she is so scared. Raising a sister out of necessity is completely different from raising a child out of choice. She’s just thinking, oh man I’m an idiot. I don’t know anything about how to do this. Oh god. Until the very minute that kid is born.

Preston: He’s so happy, so excited, and his amount of worry is just a healthy amount. He knows any child of Sole’s won’t have to just rely on the two of them, they’ll be raised by a whole thriving community, and they’ll have only the best. And Preston may do more defending than he does farming when it comes to settlements, but he’s not afraid to get his hands dirty. He’s probably one of the companions who is more aware of how much trouble a kid can be, and inside he’s thinking ‘bring it on, general’

X6-88: He’s not worried about any of the practicality of it. He knows what people need, and he knows that Sole has the experience needed to take care of a baby, and he knows that he and Sole have more than necessary in terms of the resources and skills needed to provide and protect. But he’s really worried that he and the kid just won’t connect. He’s a synth, always has been, never existed under the assumption he wasn’t, and he knows it has affected him socially. Sole is patient and wise, and he has learned a lot, but kids have such immediate impressions of people and might not be as understanding, he thinks.

69 notes · View notes

houseof-harry · 4 years

Text

What Happens in Jersey Pt. 2 | G.D.

A/N - hey guys!!!! Here’s part 2 of What Happens in Jersey! Let me know what you think, I’m always looking for feedback. Read the first part here

Word Count - 5.6K

Warnings - talk of abortion

Summary - Now you’re pregnant with Grayson Dolan’s baby and you have no idea what to do.

***

Recap:

“Your pregnancy test came back positive.”

Suddenly you felt nauseous again, but not like all the previous mornings. How could you be pregnant? He pulled out, you’re on birth control. And that’s when you remember. You didn’t take it a for a couple days after New Year’s Eve because you had run out of your current pack and your next pack was at school. You hadn’t noticed your missed period because your birth control had made it almost non-existent to start.

The doctor continues to speak but you only hear the blood rushing through your ears as pure panic sets in. You don’t even have Grayson’s number. He’s a fucking LA YouTuber, he wasn’t even on the same coast as you. You weren’t even friends.

As soon as you get out of the doctor, you call Jessie.

“Hey Y/N, what’s up?”

You’re blinking back the tears as you walk to your car. “I need to tell you something.”

***

You’re full on sobbing by the time you actually reach your car, opening the door and getting in.

“Y/N, you’re scaring me, what’s going on? What do you have to tell me?” You can hear Jessie practically screaming through the phone, but it sounds like gibberish. Maybe you should have waited until you calmed down to call anyone.

“I – I – I’m –“ you can’t seem to get enough air in your lungs to say what the doctor had just told you.

“Hey, Y/N, listen to me. Breathe.” He exaggerates his slow breathing so that you can hear it through the phone. You do your best to match your inhale to his, and exhale with him too. He always knew what you needed in order to calm down.

Eventually you are able to actually breathe a bit without sobbing and shaking. “Do you wanna tell me what’s up?” You can hear the concern in his voice.

“I just went to the doctor,” you rush out, scared to actually say what’s going on. Once you say it out loud to him it becomes real.

“Why? Are you good? Is this about your stomach?” You can hear movement from his side of the call. You can only assume he’s getting ready to come meet you wherever you are. This is all super out of character for you. Yes, you’ve had anxiety and even panic attacks, but nothing so bad you couldn’t speak or manage to calm yourself down. The fact that you called him unable to even speak probably made him scared enough to not be able to sit still.

“I’m, uh, I don’t even know how to say it,” you shake your head. He was gonna be so disappointed in you.

After your night with Grayson, something had shifted slightly with you and Jessie. It almost seemed like he wanted to protect you from Grayson. He wasn’t a huge fan of the fact that you had slept together. It felt like you both just kind of put it to the back of your minds and moved past it when you had gotten back to school. However, that would be impossible to do now. Grayson is the only person you’ve slept with the past six months.

“Hey, you can tell me anything, you know that.” His voice softens significantly. He’s trying to make you comfortable, something he always tended to do. IF you think about it, this is the first time you’ve been scared to tell him something.

“I’m pregnant,” you cover your mouth as soon as you say it as if it will take it all back. Your eyes squeeze shut, waiting for a response.

Silence.

After about a minute, you hear him take a deep breath. “Jess?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m here.”

You wait for another few minutes as he continues to process what you just told him.

“Can I come to yours?” You ask. You don’t want to go home right now. Being in your apartment would mean being with the girls and they will be able to tell instantly that something is wrong. Jessie is the only one who needs to know right now.

“Uh, yeah.” He sounds hushed and distracted.

“Okay, be there in ten.” You hang up and buckle your seatbelt.

The drive to Jessie’s feels like two minutes, not ten. Your mind is going a mile a minute, trying to go over everything the doctor told you so that you’d be able to tell Jessie more once you got there.

You’re six weeks pregnant. You’re sure it’s Grayson’s. You have to set up an appointment with your doctor at home next month when you’re on spring break. You have to stop taking your birth control and start taking prenatal vitamins. You should also probably start eating more vegetables or something. Because you’re fucking pregnant. Oh god.

You park in a visitor spot at Jessie’s apartment complex. You text him that you’re there and walk up to his door.

When he opens it, he has a bit of crazy eyes going on. You can’t tell if he’s scared, mad, excited, or anything. Maybe that’s how you look too.

You open your mouth to say something, but the tears come rolling down again. He reaches out and pulls you into a tight hug, closing the door in the process. You wrap your arms around his middle and shove your face right into his chest. You start to sob again and he rubs your back to try and soothe you.

“I’m sorry,” you say. You don’t even know why. It feels like you need to apologize to someone, though. Maybe yourself.

“Hey, woah. No apologizing. Everything will be okay, we can figure it all out. What did the doctor say?” He puts a hand on your cheek to lift your face from his chest. You’re grateful he seems a bit more responsive now than he was on the phone. He looks you in the eye while he rubs his thumb over the redness on your face due to your crying.

“I’m six weeks. She gave me a bunch of papers and stuff about what I should be doing and all of my options.”

“What options?” He had to have known what you meant, but he wanted to be sure.

“If I don’t want to keep it,” you look away when you say it. You felt some guilt even saying the words out loud, even though there’s nothing wrong with that. It was hard to think rationally right now, though.

Jessie nods and rubs his hands up and down your arms. “Is that what you want?” He asks. He seems to be walking on egg shells, just as unsure as you are.

You shrug. “I mean we graduate a little over three months. I wouldn’t be able to start a job until after I had the baby, and getting hired as a new mom fresh out of college with no experience would be next to impossible. How am I supposed to take care of a child when I won’t even have a place to call my own and a job to feed us?” You word vomit, your hand resting on your stomach. It was obvious to Jessie that those were excuses for yourself, not for him.

He sighs. “Y/N, people will help you if you want this for yourself. Who’s the dad?” He bites his lip.

You roll your eyes at him. “Come on Jess, you know its Grayson.”

He sighs and nods. He grabs your arm lightly and guides you to sit on his couch.

“What?” His lack of a response plants a seed of anxiety you hadn’t even thought of before. How will Grayson react. Does Jessie know something you don’t?

“Nothing. What do you wanna do right now? Movie? Shop for anything you need? Let me see what the doctor gave you,” he reaches for the papers and you hand them over. You sit there quietly, arms crossed, lost in your thoughts. Would Grayson want you get rid of it? Or would he just not be involved? It wouldn’t surprise you, him and his brother have been so successful since they moved to LA. Jessie would tell you about how when they left they went all alone so young, but they managed to not only survive but thrive. All this baby would do is throw a wrench in that plan.

“What if I just don’t tell him?” You wonder aloud, almost more to yourself.

“What?” Jessie looks up from the papers, confusion all over his face again.

“I don’t know. His life would probably be easier if I just don’t tell him. Then he won’t feel the pressure.” You nod along as you like the sound of it more and more.

“Y/N,” he rubs his hand over his mouth, clearly thinking hard about what to say next. “You can’t do that. It’s his responsibility as much as it is yours. You shouldn’t go through any of this alone.”

“I’m not! I have you, and I won’t be able to hide it from any of the girls for more than a few weeks, and I’ll tell my parents and my aunt.” You list off, trying to convince him of your plan. Or more yourself, if you’re being honest.

“It’s his baby, too. If he finds out after the fact no matter what you do, that would be so much worse.” Jessie almost seems reluctant to defend him, but that’s how you know he’s right.

“Well, I don’t even have any way to contact him. Maybe I should wait a bit, make sure it’s real or something.” You refuse to look at him, knowing how ridiculous you sound. He laughs a bit.

“Pretty sure the doctor’s note makes it real. We can call him together if you want,” he offers. Suddenly, you’re breathing fast again.

“Right now?” You squeak out.

“I mean what better time than the present, right? You’re only getting more pregnant the longer you wait.” He raises his brow at you.

“Oh god I’m getting more pregnant every day!” You lean forward, elbows on your knees while your hands cover your face. “Can I wait until the weekend?” You mumble, only peaking one eye open to look at him.

He smiles softly at you. “Yeah. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He puts the papers on the table and pulls you into his side. He rubs your arm as you get comfortable next to him, wrapping an arm around his stomach.

“Thank you. Let’s watch a movie now.”

***

The weekend comes much quicker than you wanted it to. You spent Friday night in with the girls, convincing them that you were just still sick but still wanted to hang out with them and have a bit of fun. They all got wine drunk and you watched Jersey Shore, because trash TV is only better when you’re three glasses in. Or I guess, they all were. You were one glass of cranberry juice in, without your usual vodka.

“You’re sure you don’t even want a glass?” Your roommate, Payton asks you while holding the wine bottle out to you.

“Nah, it’ll just upset my stomach more,” you shake your head, grabbing your water bottle. It wasn’t even a lie, you bet.

You meet the rest of them in the living room and settle in for your night. It felt good to be normal knowing that things were about to change soon.

A couple hours of Pauly and Vinnie and you’re ready to go to bed. You had managed to escape your friends’ questions about your sickness and lack of drinking for the whole night. Or so you thought.

As you’re getting into your pajamas, there’s a knock on your door.

“Yeah?” You call, just as you’re pulling your shirt over your head. Payton walks in.

“Are you good, Y/N?” She sits on your bed, watching you as go through the rest of your bed time routine.

“Yeah. Why?” You’re putting toner on in the mirror, so you can’t look at her directly.

“You just seemed off tonight. And you’ve been sick for a while. Have you considered going to the doctor?” She asks.

“Uh, yeah. I think I’ll go this week,” you lie, regretting it instantly. Now she’s going to ask how it went and you’re going to have to lie again. Payton was usually good at reading you and you weren’t sure how long you’d be able to keep it up.

“Okay, just wanted to make sure. I’ll come with if you want, I know how you feel about needles.” She gets up and smiles.

You look at her and smile back. “Thanks.”

She leaves and you get into bed. The only thing worrying you more than keeping this from Payton was telling Grayson tomorrow. And the fact you were pregnant in the first place.

***

You wake up to your phone ringing. You answer without checking to even see who it is.

“Hello?” You answer groggily.

“Hey, I’m here.” You hear Jessie’s raspy voice. It’s clear he just woke up, too.

The plan was to call Grayson and then hopefully be able to go to breakfast after to lift your spirits. That is, if you don’t puke.

“Oh, okay.” You sit up, rubbing your eyes.

“Dude, it’s 11:30, we were supposed to be doing this a half hour ago,” he laughs. “I could get used to not being the latest one to everything.”

“Hey, I’ve been sleeping more because I’m sick and pregnant. You’re just late.” You chuckle.

“Just come get me, I’m at your door.” You can hear the smile in his voice as he hangs up. You rub your eyes and go to the door, opening it for him. “Did you literally just get out of bed?” He looks at your pajamas.

“Shut up. We have some emotional preparation to do.” You let him in and shut the door behind him. You both walk back to your room and he jumps on your bed.

“Where are the ladies.” He wiggles his eyebrows jokingly as you begin to get ready.

“They’re at a pregame, they decided to darty because they didn’t go out last night. No one to eavesdrop, if that was your concern.” You’re deciding how much makeup to wear. What is the appropriate look for telling a guy they got you pregnant?

“I didn’t think they’d eavesdrop, I just didn’t want anyone to know if you didn’t feel comfortable with it.” He watches your ceiling fan turn. You can tell he’s not really present.

“What should I say?” You ask as you finish up your makeup. You decided a more natural look would do. If anyone has something to say about it instead of focusing on the pregnancy, that sounds more like a them problem.

“’Hey, remember that one time we hooked up? Well I’m pregnant and it’s definitely yours. Surprise!’” He jokes, sitting up. You role your eyes.

“I’m scared I’m gonna see him and just freeze.” You stand and pick out a t-shirt and leggings. “I’m gonna change. Text him to make sure he’s up.” You say as you leave.

When you come back from the bathroom, he’s got his phone propped up on your pillow so that you could both be in view.

“He’s waiting for me to call.” Jessie turns to you, smiling.

“Cool, call him.” You say as you throw your pajamas in the hamper, climbing on the bed next to him and fixing your hair a bit.

As the ringing continues, your anxiety worsens. Before you can get too into your thoughts, Grayson’s smiling face is on the phone.

“Hey Jess! Y/N? What’s up guys?” He sounds so cheery for it being almost 9 am where he is.

“Hey Gray. We’re, uh, just hanging out. You know, typical stuff. What’s up with you? Are you with Ethan?” You sit there quietly, biting your li, letting them lead the conversation.

“Nah, he’s still asleep. I just finished my breakfast.” He shows his empty plate, also showing his shirtless chest off. You can feel your cheeks flushing and you try not to think about it. Or, more specifically, the last time you saw his naked chest.

“Good stuff,” Jessie nods, not really sure what else to say. He looks at you while Grayson brings the phone back to his face. He’s also waiting for someone else to say something.

“So,” you shuffle uncomfortably next to Jessie, not really sure how to start.

“You didn’t just miss my cute face?” Grayson laughs, making you smile a bit. When he doesn’t get the reaction he expects, he realizes this is serious. “Is this about our agreement?”

Your eyes widen. He thinks you gave him an STD. “Oh my god, no its-“ you catch yourself about to say worse, but you don’t know if you mean that. “I’m still clean.” You nod.

Jessie looks between the both of you confused, shaking his head a bit before he looks at you again.

“What’s up then?” He also has his gaze on you, reminding you of how intense it can feel.

“I went to my doctor because I’ve been sick all week,” you begin. This feels ten times worse than telling Jessie. Grayson is nodding along, looking confused.

“I’m pregnant.” The phrase hangs in the air all over again and it doesn’t feel good. You and Jessie are both looking at him for his reaction, and he seems quite calm.

“Whose is it?” He asks. A laugh bubbles up from your chest before you can hold it back. Before you know it, Jessie is laughing, too.

“Yours, dumbass,” Jessie laughs out, shaking his head. That’s when you see the panic in his features. You start to freak out too, feeling like you’ve ruined his life. And his brother’s.

“I’m sorry.” You say, rubbing your hands up and down your legs to try and calm yourself down.

“Hey, don’t apologize. I didn’t have a condom either.” He breathes out, almost like he’s choking. “You’re sure it’s mine?”

Your cheeks turn red as you nod. “There’s, uh, there’s been no one else.” He coughs, covering his mouth and what seems to be a bit of a smile before he gets serious again.

“What did the doctor say?” He looks at you guys again, and it looks like he might cry. It tears your heart up. “Are you guys healthy and stuff?”

You nod. “Yeah. I’m six weeks along. Well, I guess almost seven. She, uh, she told me about all of my options.”

“What options?” Oh my god, no wonder him and Jessie are friends. You look at your wall, not wanting to look at his face while talking about this.

“Options for if I want to end it. Or, I guess us. If we want to end it.” It felt weird to talk about you and Grayson as a collective group making decisions together. You still barely know the kid.

“Jess, can we talk alone?” He asks. Jessie nods, getting up and rubbing your shoulder before he goes to your living room.

“How do you feel? About these options, I mean.” He sounds almost resistant to say it.

“I don’t know, I didn’t really want to think about it until I spoke to you. Didn’t want to get stuck on one decision just for us to decide something else.” You mumble, you voice sounding weak and quiet.

“Y/N, look at me.” He waits for your eyes to meet his before he continues. “It is your body, you get to make any decision you feel is best for you. I would never try and change your mind or make you do something you don’t want to.” He pauses, waiting for a response from you.

You nod, debating what you should say next.

“Do you want me to get an abortion?” You ask. His immediate reaction is for his eyes to widen. He didn’t expect you to be so blunt, but you thought it would be better to just say it instead of dancing around it like you had done all week with Jessie.

He rubs his face, opening his mouth a couple of times but not actually saying anything. You nod, taking that as his response.

“It’s just two pills because I’m only six weeks along.” You tell him.

“Woah – Y/N – no. That wasn’t me saying I want you to do that. I just didn’t want to scare you. I’ve always felt like I’ve been put on this Earth to be a dad. I don’t want you to make any decisions based off my wants, though. If we did keep this baby, I would support you the whole pregnancy and we would raise a baby together.” Your eyes glaze over the more he speaks. You’re continuing to stare at him wordlessly and he gives you a concerned look. “Y/N?”

You shake your head. “I just wasn’t expecting you to say that,” you shrug, whipping under your eyes to catch any tears that had started to fall.

“Hey hey hey, don’t cry. It’s going to be okay,” he brings the phone closer to his face as if that will bring you closer. You shake your head again.

“How is it going to be okay? I graduate in May. What do I tell the places I apply for jobs? ‘Oh hey, by the way, I’m going to be needing maternity leave in a couple months.’ Grayson, I’m already going into a male dominated field, it’s going to be so hard to find a job but I can’t have a baby without a job and I don’t have a house but you also can’t have a baby without a place to live and I-“ a sob cuts your rambling off as you cover your mouth. You look back at the phone and see the pain in his eyes as he watches you break down. “I’m just scared and I don’t know what to do. I’ve been so independent my whole life, but I just don’t know what to do. And now I’m crying on the phone with a stranger-“

“Hey woah, okay. Y/N, breathe.” You sniffle and try to calm your breathing down. “First, I’m not a stranger, I’m your baby daddy,” he chuckles. You smile a bit at that, which makes Grayson actually able to take in a breath. “Second, if you weren’t terrified, that would be way more concerning. The only reason I’m not panicking either is because I genuinely think I’m in shock.” He shakes his head, rubbing a hand over his face. “What do you want to do?” He asks, only after your breathing has regulated a bit.

“I don’t know Gray, I already told you that.” You sigh, bringing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them.

“Come on, that’s not true. What’s your gut tell you?”

You bite your lip as tears slowly start to pour out of your eyes. “I wanna keep it,” you mumble, barely even audible. Your eyes widen. You didn’t even expect yourself to say that.

“What was that?” Grayson asks.

“I want to keep the baby,” you say, lifting your head from your knees, a bit more confident this time. “Nothing good in my life has come easy, it’s no shocker this isn’t any different.” This makes him smile a bit.

“Me either. Conventional isn’t really my style.” This makes you giggle as you nod in agreement. “So…” he bites his lip as your eyes meet. You raise your eyebrow. “Are we having a baby?” He asks.

“I- “ you shake your head, looking at the wall, another tear falling down your cheek. “I’m scared to say it.”

“Why?”

“Because every rational part of my being knows that logistically this is not what I should be doing, but the rest of me knows I’m going to. I can’t not, you know?” You turn to look at him. He can see the pure fear in your eyes and he just wants to be there and hug you.

“Yeah. Wanna say it together on the count of three?” He chuckles. You start laughing and shake your head.

“That’s stupid, we don’t have to do that,” you look back at him and he’s already smiling at you.

“Yes, we do. It’ll make it easier. It can be the first thing we do together.” You instantly feel your heart warm and the tears are suddenly falling again. “Hey, don’t cry again. What, doing things with me makes you that upset?” His tone is light, you can tell he’s just trying to make you smile.

You shake your head. “No, that’s not the problem. What you said was just really cute,” you giggle as your cheeks go a bit red once you realized what you said.

“So you’re down?” You nod. “1,2,3-“

“We’re having a baby,” you whisper, like it’s some big secret. Well, it is.

Meanwhile, Grayson screamed it, instantly making you crack up. You grab the phone, hoping it will make you feel somewhat closer to him.

However, your moment of happiness disappears as the anxieties crawl right back into your brain.

“Grayson,” you get his attention. He looks at you and immediately can see your off again.

“Hey, what’s going on?” His eyebrows furrow.

“How the fuck are we gonna pull this off? You literally live on the other side of the country. How am I going to pay for all this?” Your free hand covers your face because he’s seen you cry for literally half an hour at this point.

“Don’t worry about that. We will figure it all out. I’ll figure it out. Your job is to be happy and healthy,” he shakes his head at you, concern written all over his face.

“Oh, so you’re a sugar daddy? Yeah, alright. I don’t take handouts.” You had been raised to be an independent person. Your dad didn’t come from much and worked hard to be where he is now. He had always told you to make your own ends meet, because you could never rely on anyone else.

“It’s not a handout when it’s for my kid and their mom.”

“Why are you so nice?” You groan, making him laugh.

“I’ve never had a complaint about it before,” he shines his pretty smile at you, making your lips turn up too.

“I just don’t get how you’re so down. We’re young. And we don’t even know each other,” you bite your lip.

“Yet. But we’ll talk every day and go through all of this together. We’ll definitely be well acquainted at the end of that,” he chuckles, “and, I’ve always said I was meant to be a young dad. If this is how it’s meant to be, then this is how I’ll do it. We’ll do it. That’s how we’ll do it.” He winks at you.

“It’s the size of a blueberry, you know. I googled it,” you smile at him. He immediately covers his eyes with his hand, his smile growing bigger. His hand slowly slides down his face.

“A blueberry. A fucking blueberry. We have a blueberry,” he shakes his head. “Y/N, I will do anything you and our blueberry need, okay? When’s your next appointment?”

“Over spring break with my doctor back home.”

“Text me the dates, I’ll be there,” he pauses. “Where do you live?” He bites his lip to try to hold back his laugh. It hits you both that you don’t really know each other at all. At least he’s able to find the humor in it, it makes you feel better. Otherwise you probably would have freaked out more.

“New York. Well, that’s where I grew up. My parents moved down south when my brother graduated high school, so I kinda live with my friends and family all over. My doctor is about 45 minutes from there so I’ll probably spend my spring break with my best friend from home.” He nods along to your explanation.

“How far is that from Jersey?” He asks as he stands, walking into another room.

“Like an hour from Jessie’s.” He sits down at a desk and starts typing when he nods again. All of a sudden you see his door open and you hear another voice.

“Gray?” Ethan calls. “Who’re you on the phone with?” He asks. Grayson turns to him, stuttering over words that won’t come out. Ethan leans in to see you. “Y/N? Hey.” You smile at him.

“Hey Ethan.” If he couldn’t tell your cheeks had dried tears all over them, he could tell you’d been crying by your voice. He looks back to Grayson and then at you again.

“Well. I’ll be heading out now,” he waves awkwardly. He gives Grayson a questioning look before leaving the room. Grayson turns back to look at you with a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Sorry about that,” he giggles while shaking his head.

“It’s okay. I’ll be seeing a lot more of him anyways.”

“Am I allowed to tell him?” You bite your lip, thinking about what the doctor said.

“I mean technically we’re not supposed to tell people until the first trimester is over, but I already told Jessie and I am definitely going to have to tell my best friend when I go home. Tell the people who you’d want to support you if something goes wrong, I guess,” you watch him as you speak. He nods.

“Can I say something without sounding like a douche?”

“Seeing as you said it like that, you’re definitely going to sound like a douche but say it anyways,” you laugh and so does he.

“Can we try to, like, keep this off the internet for as long as possible?” You raise your brow at him.

“Oh, me and blueberry are gonna hurt your image?” You smirk, just trying to push his buttons.

“No, more like I’m worried the fans will try to hurt you and blueberry. That’s why Ethan and I try to keep our relationships out of it anyway. I wanna go through this with the people who are most important to us so that we can make it as normal as possible before we introduce you and blueberry to the internet.” Hearing him call the baby blueberry makes you tear up once again, and hearing him want to protect the both of you made you feel warm inside. Suddenly you were missing a person you barely even knew.

“Oh my god, sweet girl, I gotta stop making you cry,” he laughs. If you weren’t already blushing, you definitely were now. “I promise I’m not trying to.”

“I know,” you wipe your eyes. “And yes. We can pull a Kylie Jenner. Except it will be a lot easier because you’re not the one who will look like they taped a bowling ball to their stomach.” This makes him laugh harder.

“You’re right.” He calms down a bit.

You hear your door open and you turn around to see Jessie walking in timidly.

“Is everything okay?” He asks gently, like he was scared of the answer.

You smile softly at him. “Yeah, we’re okay.” He comes and sits on the bed with you again, looking at Grayson.

“You good too?”

“Yeah man,” he shrugs. “You know how long I’ve been waiting for a dad.” Jessie looks at the both of you, shocked.

“You’re keeping it?” He looks down at your stomach.

“Yeah,” you look down too, putting your hand back on your stomach.

“No shit. Alright. You’re having a baby. Damn,” he laughs.

“It’s a size of a blueberry, you know,” Grayson pipes up, watching the two of you interact. You both look back at the phone.

“This is so fucking crazy,” Jessie exclaims, shaking his head.

“Make sure she takes care of herself, Jess.” Grayson’s face seems a bit somber watching the both of you together.

“Oh my god no. Absolutely not. I am still a functioning human being. Me and blueberry will be just fine. I eat my fruits and veggies, I’m gonna get prenatal vitamins, the whole nine. I absolutely do not need two men trying to care of me while I go through something they’ll never understand,” you cross your arms.

Grayson looks a bit taken aback, but Jessie just smiles at you.

“There she is. As long as she’s got that fire in her, she’s doing well, Gray,” Jessie tells him, looking at him on the screen.

“Good. Ethan keeps texting that we have to start filming. Y/N, text me if you need anything, okay?” It feels like he’s looking directly into your soul sometimes.

“Yeah, of course,” you nod.

He smiles and waves at the both of you before hanging up. You look over at Jessie.

“You’re having a fucking baby. You are having Grayson Dolan’s fucking baby. Jesus Christ,” he laughs while covering his face, laying down on your bed. You lay next to him.

“Yeah. Are him and Ethan, like, really successful? I knew they were doing well for themselves, but he literally told me he would ‘take care of everything.’ That takes some dough,” you turn your head to look at him.

Jessie looks to be contemplating what to say next. “Have you looked them up before?” He turns to you and you shake your head no. “I’d recommend not doing that, then. He can definitely figure out everything you’ll need, though. Just don’t want you to get caught up in that part of him without getting to know him first.” You take a big breath in, not really sure what to think of that answer. “Don’t freak yourself out, though. He’s a good guy,” Jessie sighs. You rub your hands over your stomach, getting lost in your thoughts. That’s when you remember something very important that you don’t know about Grayson.

“What’s his number?”

“Grayson’s?” Jessie laughs out.

“No, my other baby daddy,” you joke.

“I’ll give it to you and then we’ll head to breakfast?” You sit up and nod.

“Thank god that’s over. Things can only get better from here, right?”

***

Part 3 is up!!!!

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stilwater-saint · 4 years

Text

I have 15 whole followers (WOOOOOO) So im officially giving myself permission to GUSH about my bosses.

This is Grant

He's my main boss and lowkey my main OC. He's a Bisexual man, and kinda part demon? When he was in the comma, he made a deal with a demon. He could come back, protect his sister, rebuild the saints, for the price of his body. All he had to do, was house the demon and its powers. He agreed.

This is his sister, Gia (Aka: Arson)

Arson is the character i play when I just kinda wanna destroy shit. Shes pan a pan woman trying, and succeeding, in holding her own against the boys. She fancys herself the muscle of the operation. She takes next to nothing seriously except her involvement in the saints. As far as shes concerned, they saved her and her brothers life.

Here's a pen doodle of them together

Out of the 2, Grant is more level headed. He didn't used to be, but after the death of Carlos he promised himself he wouldn't loose anyone else, and to do that, he knew he had to start acting like a leader, and not a gang banger.

Grant used to be a chaotic ball of fire. He'd run into things without thinking, shoot first, ask questions later. You'd think the incident with Lin or the boat bombing would have calmed him, but no. All it did was feed the fire. It wasn't until Carlos died that he realized just what he'd gotten himself into.

Arson is the opposite. She's been a wild child her whole life and is more than happy to continue to be so. She thinks Grant thinks too much. Who needs a plan when guns exist?

In reality, shes fucking terrified that is she stops, people will view her as weak, or she'll buckle under the pressure. It's a man's world, and she's well aware of it. To get any respect from the saints, and to get out of her brothers shadow, you gotta make some noise.

BACKSTORY:

(TW: MENTIONS OF S*XUAL ASSULT)

The Twins weren't nessicarly poor growing up, but they weren't rich. They were born Upper middle class thanks to their dad. They were aware of their roll in their fathers socity. Dress nice, stay quite. Set pieces in the so called perfect life.

Until their dad got caught fucking his secretary in his office.

One grueling divorce later, the twins found themselves moving into the Row with their Mother. She was determined to make it on her own without her Exs money, and the kids were determined to have nothing to do with their father. It still made for a very lonely life. When their mother wasn't working, she was trying to find comfort an another creep. A creep that often couldn't keep his hands to himself. Both kids were subjugated to it at least once. Neither spoke up. Neither twin wanted to breath their mothers heart again.

So they started spending more time out of the house. They were in high-school at this point. They spent time at friends houses, couch surfing and coming up with any excuse not to go home. Notably, at this point Grant meets Johnny. Their social circles ran adjacent to eachother, and the two could often be found in the Joint Circle together. Even crashing on Johnny's couch once or twice. But for the most part, Johnny and the twins weren't close at the point.

That doesn't happen until after graduation. Arson got as far away as possible for collage, going to study law of all things. She wanted to be a divorce lawyer. Grant stayed home to take care of his mom, and was an Art major at the local community College. Go Skeeters! He picked up a job, moved to the Dorms, and was content. At least he told himself that.

He was walking home from work when the events of saints row 1 open up. Face to face with death, it sparked something inside him again. What was an art degree going to do for him? He already knew how to draw, but it wasn't going to get him anywhere. He wasn't going to change the world flipping burgers at freckle bitches.

But, maybe he would fighting for the Saints. Julius was right. There was a problem with gangs in the row. He'd noticed it all the way back in 8th grade when he moved to the row. And he wanted to be apart of the solution.

Grant put all of his chips down on the Saints. Going as far as to quit his job and drop out of collage and using his savings on an first month's rent on an apartment. He had a month to make it.

Arson, still Gia at this time, knew none of this. She was busy selling her soul to fit in with the rich kids at college. Trying to prove that she belonged there, not only to the kids that looked down at her for her scholarship, but to herself.

She hated it there. She knew nothing about the saints. She knew Grant had made friends, and reconnected with that Johnny guy. But she thought he was thriving in college, and that he liked his job, though how someone could be happy at freckle bitches shed never know. She wished she could though. She was looking for an excuse to drop. She felt like every second she spend in this brick prison a little more of her died.

That was until one frantic late night call. "LINS DEAD, I COULDNT GET HER OUT, SHES DEAD" He was drunk and frantic. "Whos dead?" She asked, "LIN, LINS DEAD, THEY PUT US IN A TRUNK AND PUSHED US IN THE HARBOR" "Who did?!" "THE ROLLERZ" "THE WHO?!"

Yea, Grant had a lot of explaining to do in the morning. He maybe even over explained. Once Gia realized just how in over his head Grant was, she dropped out to go take care of her brother. When they were kids they always took care of eachother, and now was no different.

When she joined, she didn't really feel comfortable giving her real name though. I mean, this was a gang, they were going to be doing illegal gang shit. So, she gave the first word she could think of as a name. "Arson." And, it stuck. She'd be lying if she said she didn't feel more comfortable with that title anyway. Gia never quit fit.

Together the twins were a powerhouse. If Grant couldn't handle it, Arson could. And if you had to fight them together God help your soul. Grant will tell you he'd be nowhere if it wasn't for his sister, and Arson would agree.

Umm yea thats the "quick" rundown lol. Theyre way more fleshed out than this, I swear. If you have any questions please ask!! My inbox is always open. These are my babies and now I share them with you 💜

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7-wonders · 5 years

Text

As the World Falls Down

Summary: You’ve stood by Duncan through thick and thin, but when the true intention of the app he’s been developing is revealed, everything crashes down around you.

Word Count: 2253

A/N: Wow, lots of angst in this one. Hope you enjoy; feedback is always appreciated, whether it be in the form of comments or asks. If you feel so inclined, I would love if you would leave a like or reblog this. Thank you for taking the time to read!

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Everything about the fateful day, that you will soon come to know as the day that everything changed, is just...odd. Not good, not bad, but odd. For starters, Duncan’s actually home when you wake up this morning. His arms are still wrapped tightly around you when your eyes open, and he’s placing soft kisses all over your face. You tilt your head up, smiling sleepily at him and gently scratching the stubble on his face.

“You’re still here? Did Washington shut down while I was asleep?” you ask quietly, not willing to disturb the comfortable silence of the morning.

“No, everything’s business as usual, as far as I’m aware.” Glancing at the clock on the wall, you notice that it’s already 9:00 a.m., which is unheard of for Duncan on a weekday. “Just...felt like working from home today.”

“Working from home? Okay, who are you and what have you done with my Duncan?”

“I thought you would be more excited about this, considering your only classes today are online,” Duncan chuckles, rubbing circles on your upper arm with his thumb.

“No, no, I am, I promise. An unexpected day of having you to myself is a dream come true! I just haven’t known you to ever work from home before.”

That’s especially true with how hard Duncan’s been working on the Shepherd Foundation’s next biggest project, which you’ve started referring to as just ‘the app.’ The app, of course, is meant to be a new analytics app that will replace Politico in terms of tracking candidates and policies. Duncan’s nearly obsessed with getting everything perfect, including providing nearly to-the-second updates on Congressional votes, debates, and any sort of political news. It’s noble, what he’s doing, but you’re a little perplexed as to why this is such a big deal for the company. You had always been under the impression that a corporation’s R & D department was in charge of developing apps, not the person poised to take the helm when his mother steps down (which, most likely, won’t be until she dies).

“The app’s stalled, and I haven’t been focused on anything but that in so long, that I honestly have no clue what to do right now.”

“It’s stalled? Why?”

“Just...some problems with getting it online.” There’s more to the story, you’re sure, but Duncan distracts you by tangling his fingers through your hair and lightly pulling on it in the way that has your eyes fluttering.

“It’ll all work out,” you reassure him half-heartedly, your voice breathy as you try not to melt from the small gesture.

“You know what would make me feel better?”

“Hmm?”

“If you would join me for a shower.”

“Well, I can’t say no to that.” Duncan picks you up in his arms, making you squeal and grasp onto him tightly. It may be a different start to the day, but it’s one that you don’t mind at all.

The rest of the day follows in much the same way after your thirty-minute shower (followed by fifteen minutes of mopping up all of the water that landed outside of the shower when Duncan had the bright idea to remove the shower head and attempt to get you off with it). Duncan’s extremely hands-on, holding your waist as you make a quick breakfast and making you sit on his lap while you both eat. You’re entrapped in his arms while you both catch up on the news, Duncan with his newspaper and you with your phone. He barely lets you out of his sight, following you around the penthouse apartment like a puppy whenever you get up to complete some task.

The affection that he’s showing you isn’t out of the ordinary, but it is pretty new. After the earth-shattering revelation that he was not his mother’s child, he was extremely lost and broken. He had nearly spiraled, and leaned heavily on you for comfort. You both agree that, were it not for you, Duncan wouldn’t have been able to go on. You were his rock, his reason to keep going even as his entire world changed. He still hadn’t been able to really talk to his mother, freezing every time he so much as looked at her when at the office. Still, he was slowly getting to a place where he could consider eventually sitting down and talking things out with her.

He couldn’t imagine what would have happened had you not been in his life when he learned the truth about his parentage, and has tried to come up with any possible way to thank you for sticking with him and comforting him. Although you reassured him multiple times that he didn’t have to do anything and that was just what significant others did, you couldn’t stop the sweet little gifts from showing up on the bedside table every few days. Jewelry, books, flowers (oh, the flowers), and any other things that Duncan found that reminded him of you. His other way of thanking you, and your personal favorite way, is expressing how much he loves and appreciates you.

You’ve picked up on the fact that Duncan’s so-called ‘love language’ is physical touch and words of affirmation throughout your relationship. He thrives when you tell him how much he means to you, and will absolutely bend to your every whim if you cling onto him. So, to have him holding you and telling you that he loves you and how important you are to him, is the norm lately. Today, though, it seems that he can’t go a full half hour without professing his love to you. He refuses to let go of you, always having a hand on some part of your body. He makes sure that you know just how central a figure in his life you are which, while nice to hear, is starting to concern you a bit.

Is there some bad news that he’s waiting to tell you? Did his meeting with the president go wrong the other day? Although Duncan’s affectionate, this is a little excessive, even for him. It sets you on edge, and he can tell that you’re starting to question what he’s doing by the time dinner finishes and you’re both sitting curled up on the couch, a glass of wine and a glass of whiskey sitting on the elegant coffee table.

“Is everything alright?” you finally ask, listening to the sounds of a regular D.C. evening outside your window. “You’ve just been...very touch-oriented today, like you did something wrong and you’re trying to make up for it.” The questions hang unspoken in the air: you still love me, right? You wouldn’t cheat on me?

“(Y/N), I would never do anything to harm you, physically or emotionally, and I haven’t.”

“But something is wrong?” You sit up, facing him now. His eyes shift around the room, looking from the kitchen, to the floor, to his alcohol, to you. He won’t, however, look you in the eyes. “Duncan,” you say firmly to spur him into speaking.

“Remember this morning, when I told you that production on the app has stalled?” He waits for you to nod before continuing. “Well, there’s a reason for that.”

“What reason?” Your eyes narrow, heart suddenly thumping in your chest. “Did goddamn Seth fuck something up again, because if he did I swear to God I’m not listening when you tell me that I’m not allowed to beat his sorry-”

“No, it wasn’t Seth’s fault!” Duncan interrupts you, taking your hands in his. “Unfortunately, this time the blame lies solely on me.”

“What did you do?” your voice comes out a mere whisper, and you almost don’t want to know what he’s going to say.

“I--the Foundation is currently under investigation. The authorities believe that the app sources user information, including their location, without the user’s knowledge, in an attempt to sway elections.”

“That’s ridiculous, obviously that’s not true. That’s, like, a huge crime. I’m pretty sure that would be considered treason.” You stand up, Duncan standing with you since he refuses to let go of your hands. “This has to be some sort of attack on you and your family by the president. She’s getting so fucking out of control. I mean, I’ve been a little wary of her recent declarations, but sic-ing the FBI on you just because she’s enemies with your mom is absolutely batshit crazy.”

“(Y/N),” Duncan attempts to get your attention, but you continue your rambling without even looking at him. “(Y/N).” He grabs your chin with his hand, forcing you to look at him.

“You have to do something. Can’t you speak to Usher and have him tell President Underwood that the app would never do that?” Your eyes fill with tears at the thought of Duncan being vilified for this lie that the White House is perpetrating.

“(Y/N),” he sniffs, trying to compose himself before he speaks, “it’s true.”

When Duncan would tell you about the moment his mother confirmed his fears about not truly being a Shepherd, about how it felt as if the very ground shifted underneath him, you hadn’t been able to grasp how that felt. It wasn’t something that you were familiar with and, as far as you were aware, there were no secrets that you would encounter to cause faults in the Earth to move against one another in the way that Duncan had experienced. Now, though, you understand exactly what he means. You gasp loudly, mind refusing to understand what you’ve just been told as your knees buckle. Duncan moves his hands so that he’s gripping your arms, keeping you from collapsing to the ground. The room seems like it’s spinning around you and, although you’ve never experienced an earthquake before, you’re sure that this is what it feels like.

“You’re lying, you--you wouldn’t do that. Duncan, you couldn’t do that, not when you know the consequences of that shit.”

“I’m so, so sorry, darling.”

“Stop, I don’t--I don’t want to hear this anymore. I don’t care how funny you think this is, this is the worst joke you’ve ever told.” You’re clutching your chest, gasping for air as you start to panic.

This can’t be happening to him, not after all he’s been through. Out of all of the less-than-legal things Duncan’s done on behalf of his family, there’s no way that any of them would even conspire to commit treason. What will happen if Duncan gets arrested, or goes on trial? It’s too painful to even imagine what will happen if he gets sentenced to prison. You can’t think about life without Duncan. What is life if I can’t live it without the love of it?, you think dimly.

“I wish it was a joke, (Y/N), I really do. Listen, we’ve gotten word that the FBI is possibly going to make arrests. I don’t know if they’re going to arrest me, or what’s going to happen, but I wanted you to hear everything from me before you hear it from the media.”

“Do you realize that you can be put to death if you’re convicted of treason?” you hiss, eyes widening. “Jesus Christ, I don’t understand how this is happe-”

Time seems to slow, while also continuing at the same speed that it has been. You hear a single crash from outside before the front door is busted off of its’ hinges. A strong voice shouts “FBI,” and agents rush into the apartment with guns drawn. You shriek as they swarm the room, yelling at you and Duncan to put your hands in the air. You both comply, Duncan making sure he’s still able to touch your skin by standing close enough to you. His touch comforts you for only a moment, before he’s roughly yanked away from you by an agent.

“Duncan Shepherd, you’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit treason against the United States of America.” Duncan looks shocked, as if he didn’t know that the federal agents would arrest him in his apartment, in front of you. His hands are forced behind his back, and the agent goes to work at roughly clicking a pair of handcuffs on his wrists.

“Duncan--,” you start, taking a step towards him before an agent is holding you back. “Let go of me!” Another agent stands in front of you, preventing you from breaking free and reaching Duncan.

“(Y/N), don’t worry, it’s going to be fine. Do whatever they ask of you, okay? I’ll try and get a hold of you as soon as I can, but just--call my mom, okay? She’ll know what to do.” Duncan’s voice breaks, and you futilely reach out a hand for him as they drag him towards the door. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too.” Tears blur your vision as Duncan disappears around the door, the agent releasing you when he’s been successfully removed.

You fall to your knees, your body not being able to support your weight right now. The FBI swarms the apartment, collecting anything they deem as evidence and marking off your home as a crime scene. An agent tries to ask you questions, but you just wrap your arms around your knees and pull them to your chest, staring at the ground. The apartment, filled with noise and people, has never felt emptier than it has in this moment as Duncan’s shoved into a police car and driven away from your home.

////////////

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#Duncan Shepherd #duncan shepherd imagines #duncan shepherd imagine #duncan shepherd x reader #house of cards #house of cards imagine #hoc #michael langdon

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thetravelerwrites · 6 years

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Ebert and Ethrik (Father and Son)

Rating: Mature Relationship: Non-Romantic; Human Father and Half-Human Son Additional Tags: Babies, Sex Mention, Children, Kids, Priestess Mom, Tabaxi Step-Mom Words: 3232

Ebert and Rings return to the village, and while Rings and Reverence get re-acquainted with each other, Ebert spends time with his infant son. Another commission by @ocsmutapocalypse. Read the first one here! It involves Rings and Ebert on the road, and it’s NSFW.

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The trip back to the village had taken more than two weeks, and they decided to hire a carriage for the last couple of days to spare Ebert’s leg, though Rings heckled him about it. They sat together as it clattered along the road leading back to the village. Buttons sat in Ebert’s lap, digging her claw painfully into his leg due to the jostling of the carriage down the road.

“Do you think Reverence will be angry that we’ve been gone so long?” Ebert asked, trying to calm his cat enough that she would retract her claws from his thigh.

Rings was sitting upside down with her feet on the ceiling and her hair brushing the floor. Had she been wearing a skirt, everyone outside could have seen her lady bits in all their glory, not that she would have cared.

“Hard to say,” She said thoughtfully while carving a rude word into the floorboards of the carriage with her claw. “Reverence is kind of easy-breezy about these sorts of things ordinarily, but you did promised her you’d be back in a month. She does expect people to keep their promises.”

Ebert bristled. “I was only gone for so long because you kept sidetracking us! I’d have been back months ago if it were up to me!”

She smiled devilishly. “You’re telling me you didn’t enjoy your time away?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, you shifty minx,” Ebert retorted. “It’s just that… I like the village. I’ve been wanting to go back for a while. I don’t want Reverence to think that I didn’t want to come back just because you didn’t.”

She flipped over and sat properly in the seat, fidgeting with her tail. “You’re not going to tell her, are you? That I didn’t want to come back?”

You sighed. If Reverence was annoyed at your late return, it would be easy to use Rings as an excuse, especially since it was actually her fault. But… Reverence was the only person who’s opinion truly mattered to Rings. As little as you liked the idea of being on Reverence’s bad side, you liked even less the thought of driving a wedge between the two women. They did love each other, after all.

“No, of course not, love,” You said, and Rings purred, dislodging a hissing Buttons and sitting in your lap.

“You’re so good to me,” She said, reaching down into your trousers. “Let me be good to you for a little while.”

Ebert smiled, and as she lowered herself down, pulling at the buckle of his pants, his head hit the back of the carriage and he closed his eyes, giving over to expert ministrations.

A few hours later, during which Rings had sucked Ebert into a semi-coma, he cracked an eye when she rocked the carriage by shooting to the window and looking out. Familiar houses floated by, and Ebert realized he was back. He was home.

It was late in the evening, with the sun just setting beyond the trees, and Ebert looked out alongside Rings. He banged on the roof of the carriage and it stopped. The pair of them then got out, grabbed their bags from the hold in the back, headed straight for Reverence’s house. Buttons escorted herself.

As if expecting you, she was standing there on her front steps; tall, proud, and frowning. She wore a gold gown that dipped past her bust to her navel, with slits up both of her legs. The place where her eyes would have ordinarily been was covered with a cloth, but there were dozens of eyes staring back at them from her large antlers, all of them narrowed irksomely.

“And what time do you call this?” She asked shrewdly.

“Forgive me, Reverence,” Ebert replied, watching Rings tense, worried that Ebert would sacrifice her to spare his own standing with the temple priestess. “We… We got rather sidetracked at several points during the journey. But you’ll be happy to know that we have been spreading your message of open love between adults the entire time we were gone.”

Reverence’s face softened, and the tension eased from her shoulders. Rings also relaxed.

“How wonderful,” She said, swaying side to side as though rocking herself. Only then did Ebert notice the bundle cradled in her right arm, wrapped in one of Ebert’s old cloaks that he had repurposed into a blanket. It had been the first gift Ebert had given his son. His heart thudded against his ribcage as though something was kicking him from the inside.

Ebert couldn’t see the child clearly, just his forehead and one little hand that stuck out from the wrappings. The boy was still small and thin, but seemed to be thriving, sleeping peacefully in his mother’s arms.

“That’s… Is that Ethrik?” Ebert said softly.

“Aye,” Said Reverence, looking down at their son… well.. reverently. “My sweet, little reminder of the day you first arrived here. He’s still a wee little thing yet, but he’ll grow up strong. All of my children do.” She swept her free arm wide and stepped out of her cottage’s doorway. “Come in, please.”

Ebert and Rings followed Reverence inside her dwelling, which they often shared together, though Ebert still maintained his shack out in the woods. As much as he loved the village and it’s people, sometimes he still needed silence and time to himself without other people around, for his own sanity’s sake.

Buttons stalked under the bed and made herself comfortable there, so that only her gold eyes were visible in the gloom of the shadow.

“I was beginning to worry,” Reverence said. “You insisted you’d only be gone a month or two. Ethrik missed you, you know.”

Ebert highly doubted that. Babies of Ethrik’s age didn’t have the memory retention to actually miss people. He was absolutely certain the boy had no recollection of Ebert at all. Even still, Ebert said, “I know, I’m sorry. Is there something I can do to make it up to the both of you?”

“Here,” Reverence said, handing Ethrik to Ebert. “You can take him for the night. Goodness knows I could use a break.” She curled her arm around Rings back and led her toward the door, likely heading straight to the temple. There was a coy smile on her face as she looked down at the feline woman, who smiled back while biting her lip seductively. “I’ve been neglecting my duties.”

“But,” Ebert said, dropping his cane and cradling his son a little awkwardly. “I don’t know anything about taking care of babies. What if he gets hungry? Won’t you need to feed him?”

Reverence turned back to Ebert and chuckled. “He can’t stomach milk, not even mine. There’s a jar of dark honey in the pantry over there,” she said, pointing. She reached into a pocket and pulled out a closed metal cup with a spout and a corked hole. “We found that it works well to sustain him. Two tablespoons dissolved in half a pint of water whenever he’s hungry. There’s also a jar or two of pear sauce and some berries for his dinner. That’s more than enough for him at this age.”

Then she turned, Rings on her arm, and exited the house.

Ebert looked down at his sleeping son for a moment. He hadn’t really spent much time with him before now, especially on his own. Ethrik was always in the hands of others. Ebert had only interacted with him for a few minutes at a time before moving on to other things, trusting that Ethrik’s attention was well occupied. This was the first opportunity he’d had to actually… bond with the boy.

Gingerly hobbling to the bed, he laid Ethrik down in the middle of it and carefully arranged his blankets so that he wasn’t stifled. Ebert marveled at how truly small he was, even at eight months.

“Hi again,” Ebert said softly as he sat on the bed and arranged his legs semi-comfortably. “Sorry I’ve been gone so long. I didn’t expect to be.”

Ethrik slept on. Ebert sat there, bending to remove his leg brace without moving the baby around too much, feeling strangely at ease as watched the little boy breathe in and out rhythmically. It was oddly soothing.

“You know, I actually never expected you to exist. Not you specifically, I mean. I just never thought I’d ever have a child. When I was younger, I repulsed by the idea, and now that I’m older… well… I thought the time for such things had passed me by. But, I guess when you meet a person like your mother, things just tend to happen, eh? She does tend to get her way. It doesn’t help that I’m a pushover for beautiful women.”

Ethrik snuffled in his sleep as if in agreement, and Ebert sniffed a laugh through his nose, examining his son. He looked startlingly like Reverence. His skin was lavender in color and he had little nubs on his forehead that you knew would grow into great big antlers like a moose, but unlike his mother, his eyes, all four of them, were on his face rather than implanted in the antlers. His hair was dark, his feet were cloven hooves, and he had a little tail poking out of the blankets.

“You look like her,” Ebert mused. “But I’ll bet anything you’re like me in temperament. If that’s the case, I’m sorry, sport. I’m not a likeable guy. Well, except for here, in this place. These people seem to like me just fine.”

Ebert looked out of the window. It was still bright enough that he could see the bustling of the town as it finished it’s day business. People went to the tavern, or ducked into their own homes, and more than a few headed to the temple.

“Yeah,” He mused. “This place may seem odd to other people, but for odd people, it’s the perfect place to be. And I’m nothing if not odd. So’s you’re mom, honestly. And your… well, I guess she’s technically your step-mom, though she’d hate the idea, so don’t tell her I called her that.” He said in a conspiratorial whisper.

Just then, Ethrik woke up. He blinked up at Ebert curiously, each of his four eyes a different color. Then began to cry, softly at first, but growing in volume and intensity. Ebert floundered, trying to figure out how to calm him.

“Oh! Oh, just a sec, just a sec!” Ebert said, jumping as best he could from the bed and taking the metal cup to the water basin and uncorking it. Ebert unscrewed the honey jar and spooned two dollops into the opening, as instructed, and then filled it with water, re-stoppering it and shaking it vigorously to dissolve the honey.

Ebert staggered back to the bed, where Ethrik was still wailing, and gave him the cup, which he was able to hold on his own. Ethrik silenced immediately and drank enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I get grouchy when I’m hungry, too,” Ebert said fondly. “Although, you should see Rings when she’s hungry. She’s a monster.” Ebert patted Ethrik’s stomach. “I do love her, you know. Rings. As cantankerous and sharp-tongued and off-putting as she can be, and as much as she tries to push people away, I love her. I love your mom, too. I love them both more that I ever thought I was capable. And… I love you, too, little one.”

Ethrik watched you with his bright, strange eyes, making little noises as he drank.

“I don’t want to be like my dad was with me, distant and cold. I want to be better for you. My dad wasn’t exactly happy that I was bookish and wanted to study magic. He had intended for me to take over his merchant business. But he had other sons for that. I couldn’t understand why it was so important for me to follow in his footsteps. He wanted this huge trading empire and insisted all his kids were part of it. Well, I wasn’t having it. The day I left for the mage school was the day he disowned me, and honestly, I was more than happy about that.”

Ethrik threw the empty cup to the floor with a clatter and waved his arms at Ebert, who picked him up and lay him on his shoulder, patting his back. Ebert had seen this done before, but wasn’t sure he was doing it right.

“You can be whatever you like, Ethrik,” Ebert said as he bounced him a little. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Your dad says so, and you can tell people that, too.”

A burp, a fart, and an accompanying giggle was Ethrik’s response.

Ebert snorted. “Yeah, you definitely take after me,” He stood again with Ethrik on his shoulder, a little worried that he might fall on his unsteady leg, but made his way slowly and delicately to the pantry again.

“Ooh, blueberries,” Ebert said to Ethrik. “Would you like some blueberries, buddy? Can you even eat these?” He asked, looking at the little boy’s face. Ethrik laughed, revealing three little teeth in his mouth. “Huh. Maybe so.”

Back on the bed, Ebert sat Ethrik upright, and he was mostly steady. The baby laughed and waved his hands up and down, eager for the berries but not quite dexterous enough to grab them.

“Here,” Ebert said, taking one and crushing it between his fingers before feeding it to Ethrik. “Just to be safe.”

Buttons jumped up from under the bed then, sniffing Ethrik’s head and the blueberries before snatching one and rolling on his side next to the baby, munching and batting the air.

Ethrik apparently greatly enjoyed Buttons’ company while he ate, and laughed every time she swiped at Ebert’s hand when he offer Ethrik crushed blueberry after crushed blueberry. Graciously, she only stole one or two.

The pair of them seemed to become fast friends. Once the berries were gone, Ethrik fell forward and maneuvered around to put a fat, starfish hand on Buttons’ belly. Ebert was about to pull the boy away, but Buttons’ seemed not to care. Ebert huffed a little in jealousy; Buttons’ would tear his hand off if he tried that.

Ethrik seemed to be sleepy after eating, and laid down on his side next to Buttons. The cat licked Ethrik’s head a little and then settled next to him, purring and snuggling the little boy closely.

Ebert couldn’t help smile at the sight. Moving carefully to keep from waking the two, he went to his satchel and pulled out his sketchbook, drawing the moment, preserving it to be looked at later in dark times. Ebert sighed. There were always dark times.

He shook himself mentally. Now was not one of those times. Be here in this moment, he told himself. Be here with your son. Keep your promise.

He drew several sketches, smiling softly. When he was done, he put the pages aside and carefully picked up his sleeping child, laying back on the pillows with Ethrik on his chest, and closed his eyes. Buttons stretched and got up, only to position herself over Ebert’s feet and lie on them upside down.

The warm weight and steady rhythm of his breathing was comforting, as was the feeling of Buttons’ purring through his toes and up his legs, and Ebert found himself drifting, clutching his son tightly.

“Isn’t that precious?” Ebert heard through the fog of sleep. He snorted awake to find Rings and Reverence standing over him, looking tired but very pleased. Ebert looked out of the windows and saw that it was still dark out.

“I expected you two to be at it until dawn,” Ebert said groggily, rubbing his eyes with one hand while keeping the other firmly on Ethrik, who was still asleep. “Losing your touch, Rings?”

Rings growled at you, her hackles raised.

“I’m afraid I became rather tired,” Reverence sighed. “The baby does take up a lot of my energy these days. We decided to come back here and rest and go back fresh in the morning. If you’re not opposed to taking care of the little one again.”

“Not at all,” Ebert said, looking down at Ethrik. “I think we’re getting along great, actually.”

Rings went to his left side while Reverence lay on the right. The bed was large enough to accommodate all three of them, plus the baby and Buttons. Reverence pulled the sheets over them all, put her hand over Eberts on the baby, while Rings turned her back and put her butt up against Ebert’s hip. Then they lay back and slept.

The next morning at dawn, they woke when Ethrik shrieked with laughter as Buttons nibbled at his hooves. Rings and Reverence headed back to the temple after a breakfast of bread and cheese, and the pear sauce for Ethrik.

Ebert decided to go out with the baby in his carrying basket and reacquaint himself with the town. He greeted friends and neighbors, bought Rings a new whetstone and new clippers for Reverence’s hooves. One of the vendors gave Ethrik a wooden rattle with dried beans inside for free. He was delighted with it, and swung it around for the rest of the morning.

Just as Ebert was debating heading back to Reverence’s house for a nap, he saw Spring of the Valley, Ring’s sister, coming up quickly.

“Spring!” He said, raising his hand in greeting. “Hello again! We’ve finally come home.”

“Yes, that’s wonderful,” She said, smiling, though she seemed on edge. Her normally chubby face was pulled tight in an anxious smile. “You wouldn’t happen to know where my sister is, would you?”

“She’s in the temple with Reverence,” Ebert said. “They have a lot of time to make up for.”

Her face fell. “Fuck. She could be in there for hours.”

“Is something wrong?” Ebert asked. “I can go get her, if you like. She won’t be pleased, but if it’s serious, I can get her for you.”

“Would you mind? There’s a… problem…” Spring said, twisting her tail in much the same way as her younger sister.

“Would you mind taking Ethrik for me?” Ebert asked. Spring took the basket with the little boy, still swinging his rattle around and giggling, and nodded. Ebert thanked her and headed toward the temple.

He didn’t go inside, instead telling one of the priests holding vigil outside that Rings was urgently needed by her sister.

As expected, Rings came out incensed, ruffled and half dressed.

“What could be so important that you’d interrupt worship?” Rings asked angrily.

“Your sister needs you,” Ebert said.

“For what?” She asked, her arms folded.

“Rings,” A voice said from behind Ebert. Springs was standing behind Ebert with Ethrik and her own son. Behind her stood two other Tabaxi people, a male and female, with similar coloring to Rings, though they were obviously older.

“It’s good to see you again, Rings,” The male said, though his face didn’t reflect the words he spoke.

Rings drew herself up to her full height, which wasn’t exactly impressive. She puffed up, flexing her muscles, which were actually pretty impressive, and scowled.

“Father,” She said. “Mother.” She nodded at the female, who didn’t acknowledge her gesture. “What are you doing here?”

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

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#Commission #ocsmutpocalypse #ebert #rings #reverence #ethrik #father and son #family #not romance

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tyler-games-hard · 6 years

Text

Buckle up for a life story!

I’m not sure how much I’ve talked about this, but here’s how I figured out I was gay and what christian school taught me and how its okay to be gay!

Trigger warnings: Suicide, self harm, derogatory terms

This school was hard core Christian. It was run out of a church, small town based, very much so had that bible thumping redneck agenda going on. Most of the kids going to this school also went to church there and their parents worked for the school, church, or both, and EVERYONE knew each other and who they were and where they stood on the totem pole. If your parents worked for the school or church and you went to church there, you were automatically higher on the pole, and sad for me, being an outsider, parents didn’t work for the school or go to church there, I was smack bottom. Between the totem pole and the typical private school cliques, it was social hell for poor me. I was a California avocado swimming in a pool of southern sweet tea sat atop a mountain of bibles, with no end in sight.

So as a 10 year old 4th grader, moving from a Californian private school that was relatively laid back to a southern private school with strict uniforms and even taught Latin, it was a huge culture shock. At this same time I was also beginning puberty, and that’s about the time you start discovering which gender you prefer, if any at all and let me tell you that first year of being questioned which boy I liked when I really was starting to take a liking to the girls, was weird. I felt ashamed of it, but at the same time not. The stuff I was taught growing up that I should get married to a man and give him kids and be a home maker was telling me it was wrong, but something deep inside was telling me no, this is right, you don’t need to marry a man, you don’t like men (to be found out later I’m actually a bit more flexible lol), and it was deeply confusing. I saw my fellow classmates and saw them all expressing interest in the opposite sex, and I really was just hiding the fact that I took a preference to the girls by saying I really didn’t care. To be noted, though, I had been struggling with my gender identity since I was very young, before I even started kindergarten, so whether at the time I was straight or gay, it was changing most definitely.

Around this same year, 4th grade, I was introduced to an instant messaging app called Palringo after I got an iPod touch for Christmas. A quick overview of this app, at the time I got in to it, all you needed was an email, and you could have an account, and you could join whatever group you wanted. The age restrictions at the time were technically 13+, but hey look at me, rebellious 10 year old. I ended up joining a group for teens and lied, saying I was 16, using a fake picture and everything. I posed as this very girly girl in my online persona, I was somewhat flirtatious, “dated” a mod from the group (dating being we had each others usernames in our profiles with hearts) and learned way too much, way too soon. I was 10 years old and the people in this group thought I was 16 because I lied and were telling me about sex, anatomy of both sexes, and teaching me slang and phrases one would find in urban dictionary.

I became obsessed with this app. It took over my life. I didn’t really talk to people at school anymore, I didn’t talk to my one friend on my block, and basically my last couple years of elementary school disappeared on this app where I learned about sex, sexuality, gender, and drama. By the time I was 11, I had become pretty solid in the fact that I didn’t like boys, but pretended I did at school. Instead I was open about liking girls on Palringo, since people didn’t judge me there. I eventually found a group of people who I consider to be my high school friends. When I met them, I came clean about my lie with another lie, just not as far fetched. I told them I was 13 instead of 16, yet in reality I was still just 11 or 12. And I got along well with these people. I even met my current girlfriend during this time in these groups. But my real life in person social life was dead. I connected with no one, I became severely depressed, and by the time I was 13 or 14, I was self harming.

My depression came on about the time I was 12 or 13. I was t this Christian school that I didn’t belong in, I couldn’t be myself there, and my social life was dead between that and palringo taking over my life. I was also dealing with gender identity issues and being scared to talk about it with anyone. I certainly couldn’t talk to my parents about it, I had attempted to tell them about liking girls and being gay and they told me I was going to hell and took all my electronics and went through my private possessions. I couldn’t talk to anyone at school about it because that place was the same way, Christian and frowned on it. It’s not like I can change who I’m attracted to. So again I turned to palringo, which was fine communication wise, it just lacked that physical aspect. I couldn’t hear them say the words, or I couldn’t feel them hug me, and I really thrive off human touch in all forms, romantic, platonic, etc.

I quickly spiraled into being suicidal at the age of 14, already been self harming for about 8 months, at that point. I still have horrible scars from it that I’ll probably have forever. I had been seriously dating my girlfriend (who I’m still with!!) for a year by the time I was 15. It was long distance and text based, sometimes we could talk on the phone but had to make sure our parents didn’t find out, so that was very limited. She has talked me out of suicide a few times now, but the most notable time was the very first time. After living in Alabama and going to this Christian school, my dad’s job moved back to California, so we picked up and moved again. I was about 15 I believe, or 14 about to be 15, and we moved in the last third of my 8th grade year. My parents, for financial reasons, decided to put me in public school for the last third of 8th grade. I had never attended public school at this point. I’d only ever attended private Christian schools. Oh man did this public school almost kill me. I experienced outright bullying like never before. I’d experienced it before but it was always subtle and underhanded. At this public school, it was very direct. I was called fag, fatty, fat lesbian, and more of those in other variations, along with bullying in the form of the popular girls wouldn’t let me change in the bathroom because they didn’t like the fact I wouldn’t change in front of them. They would harass me and physically push me around. And of course I didn’t fight back, I was taught my whole life to turn the other cheek.

That small span of 3 months, I almost put a bullet in my head. I couldn’t talk to my parents, they disapproved of the fact that I was gay, they didn’t like the people I hung out with because they were also gay, I wouldn’t have gotten sympathy or help from them. I knew where my dad kept the guns. We were in a small apartment that my dad’s company was providing us and my dad stored his guns in the closet in his room. I planned it for a week. Grocery day, I would come home from school while my mom and sister were still out, I’d grab the hand gun, load it with one bullet, and stash it under my bed, which I did. It sat under my bed for 3 days. Every night, I sat in bed thinking about pulling it out and finally ending it. For all I knew, high school would just be another 4 years of this bullying. One night, I was sitting in bed after a particularly bad day. They bullying had been extra bad and I was beyond reasoning. I finally pulled that gun out. I was talking to my girlfriend, Jali, and telling her my goodbyes. I told her goodbye and was talking to her, trying to calm my storm and get the balls to just end it. She had nothing but soothing words for me. Somehow she knew I was serious, despite me not actually telling her what I was doing or about to do. I remember putting the gun in my mouth, loaded and cocked, all I had to do was flex that index finger, and I would be gone. Jali had sent me a message saying “I will miss you. You have been nothing but a light in my life and I don’t know what I’ll do without you. Please don’t do this.” I remember it vividly. I can see the screen in my head to this day as if I’m reading it all over again. I put the gun away. Unloaded it and stashed it back under my bed. And I cried. I cried so hard my eyes hurt for days. I bottled so much up and hid so much from everyone in an attempt to be the person my parents want me to be and to be strong for all my friends and for Jali that I was being broken from the inside out. I forever thank her for keeping me alive that night and the other couple times I was close to ending it. She kept me around to finally meet her beautiful self and finally find peace and acceptance.

This was a tough post to write, and it didn’t even really scratch to surface of the things I experienced in middle school and high school. Christian school showed me that even in extreme peer pressure to be like everyone else and in strict guidelines of who to be, you can still pull through and be your own light and be yourself. The internet and Palringo have shown me things my parents haven’t even talked to me about yet. I’m 20 years old and my parents still have not had a sex talk with me. I learned it from the internet and my internet friends. They taught me it’s okay to be me and who I am and that I am my own person, not something to please my parents.

Don’t fall down the same hole I did. Talk about your feelings. Be happy, be yourself, and don’t let anyone tell you who to be, from your parents to your friends to your partner, you’re the only person to tell yourself who you are

#gay #trans #ftm #lgbt #christianity #christian school #internet #palringo

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zaramarshalls-blog · 7 years

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HELLO HI -- i’m sami and if that name sounds ~*familiar*~ it’s becuase i also play this little bean here and just love y’all so much i had to bring another muse too. :)

so so so -- zara. my daughter. my Child.

she’s a chicago native but her dad is from morris, so growing up she spent a lot of time there particularly during the summer and winter holidays.

and to be really honest? she never really loved it; coming from chicago, morris wasn’t her favorite place in the world but she would always come (especially in her teenage years when she had the choice not to) because of the fact that it was the one and only time that her parents weren’t working and they could be something closer to a proper family.

but lbr by 16, zara wasn’t coming to morris just for her family :) the summer she’s 16, she meets a boy who lives in morris and he becomes her first love and every summer after becomes about seeing him. and no matter what’s going on for them romantically -- whether they’re dating other people or what have you -- the summer is theirs and they just fall right into each other.

and that goes on for 5 years -- 5 summers -- until zara is 21 and about to go into her senior year of college. she ends up leaving morris pregnant (though she doesn’t find out about it until well into the semester) and that sort of shatters any illusion she had of her summer love / life being removed from the rest of the year.

early on in the pregnancy, she makes the decision to carry the child but give them up for adoption. and though she feasibly could have kept it hidden from her parents up until graduation, she decides to tell them a couple months after finding out -- and they don’t react very well. in fact, her parents all but disown her, letting her know if she even has the baby, she wouldn’t be welcome in their home after that. at this point, zara is realizing that her family’s reputation / illusion as the perfect family matters more to her parents than actually being a good family and she decides then and there to have the baby and keep them. half because she doesn’t want to be alone and they are the only family she has at that point and half because she wants to prove to her parents -- and to herself -- that she’s capable and deserving of a real family.

so zara makes it through her senior year and about a month after graduating, her daughter kiara -- kia for short -- is born. and after that point, zara kind of goes into boss mode. she recognizes that she’s coming out of school with an INCREDIBLE responsibility and her entire game plan shifts from just trying to get a job for the sake of having something out of college to crafting a career and making money to support her family. so cue the decision to move back to chicago and start a business right out of college. zara studied marketing and interned at a number of firms throughout college so essentially she uses her connections to get a small but sturdy base of clients and from there, grows on. three years into the firm, she starts to attend business school at uchicago and essentially just pours her heart and soul into hitting the ground running and building some real money / status for herself to support kia.

THAT BEING SAID -- she is super duper careful to never let work interfere with the family. she has only one rule and that’s to never leave kia alone to wonder if she cared about her job more than she cared about her. if work things come up in the middle of dinner, she takes kia with her and makes it dinner on the go. she never wants her daughter to doubt her love or devotion and will do whatever it takes to avoid that.

so fast forward through the 5 years, her business is thriving and she’s graduated from business school and it sort of hits her that she really ? doesn’t feel right knowing that kia doesn’t know her father and vice versa. so she’s basically come back to morris for a little while to give kia a chance to know her dad as everyone pays respects to the mayor. during that time she’s still working (getting shit done remotely ay) but her real focus is spending time with kia, introducing her to her dad, etc.

personality: zara is pretty guarded when you first meet her but more than anything else, it’s a mechanism to make sure that the people who are coming into her life are worth having around (particularly for kia’s sake). so though getting close can be a feat, once you’re there, you’re there for life. she’s an incredibly warm and amicable person and in a really odd way, it’s what’s made her successful at her job -- she has a knack for being able to read and respond well to people’s emotions. shes 150% a people person.

other random traits: overbearing/overprotective (she’s a mom in overdrive at times and it can be endearing but also just overwhelming), playful, sensual, intelligent, eloquent, ambitious af -- don’t step between her and her dreams / goals man, equal parts independent and dependent -- she functions really well on her own but she also has a v healthy sense of when to open up and lean on other people for sanity’s sake

connections i’d love: the father of her bb obvi :) they haven’t spoken in the five years since she got pregnant and sort of buckled down to raise kia so there’s a lot of unfinished business outside of her introducing him to their child ; someone younger who used to crush on her when she visited for the summer who she would always be like lol ur such a kid though but now he’s all ~*grown up*~ and still out here flirting and she’s naturally flirting back ; ppl she can take care of because zara is 150% a mother hen and goes out of her way to look after literally everyone ; friends, new and old -- especially old bc she’s kind of grown a lot since the last time people have seen her around ; sexual tension is always fun, especially with someone she hates otherwise lolol ; neighbor and occasional babysitter for kiara -- lots of home cooked food is probably involved here

outside of these connections, i’m honestly down for just about anything!!!! pls plot with me and my smol child <3 like this and i’ll hit you up!!!

#morris.intro #∆ ooc. )

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krisiunicornio · 5 years

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A volunteer yoga program at Rady Children’s Hospital in San Diego is bettering the lives of its oncology kids.

Aimee DeLuna practice yoga in her hospital bed.

The cornflower-blue sleeper sofa. The formica closet. The tea cart clanking by. Jaymee Jiao will never forget the eight months she spent living in this hospital room with her son Savior-Makani Jiao as he underwent around-the-clock treatment for acute myeloid leukemia. But today, the rambunctious two-and-a-half-year-old is in remission, and he’s arrived at his former bedroom at San Diego’s Rady Children’s Hospital in a red plastic Radio Flyer. “I had to buckle him in because he was going crazy downstairs,” Jiao says when we meet, exhaling. It’s true: Right now, Savior’s energy could fuel a turbine. The familiar nurses who pass by gush over his vivacity and thick, wavy tuft of black hair. You’d never guess that just last year he was undergoing chemotherapy full time.

Five months post-discharge, Jiao is settling into life back at home with her husband and four children, of whom Savior is the youngest. She is visibly tired, yet cheerful. Atop her left shoulder is a large, tight lump, and she points it out, pulling on it as if it might loosen and slip off. “I carry my stress physically,” she says with a shrug.

Also in Savior’s old hospital room is volunteer yoga teacher Liz Fautsch, a smiling brunette who worked weekly with Jiao to ease tension and stress while she was holed up at Rady. “Your shoulder is looking better!” Fautsch encourages. Jiao nods. “Yoga helped relieve my shoulder and back pain,” she tells me. “And,” she says, lowering her voice a little, “it would take my mind off things when we were having a bad day.” But between school drop-offs and shuttling her kids to sports practice and chasing Savior around the house, Jiao admittedly hasn’t kept up a regular yoga routine since she lived in this room.

See also Building a Strong Foundation for Cancer Healing

JAYMEEundefinedJIAO with her son, Savior-Makani Jiao in their former hospital room at Rady Children's in San Diego.

The yoga program for cancer patients and their families here at Rady is powered by volunteers from the Sean O’Shea Foundation—a nonprofit organization that aims to empower youth through yoga, mindfulness, and optimistic teachings. It was founded by Gloria O’Shea to honor her late son Sean, a children’s yoga teacher who died in a fluke car crash in 2006. He was 32. While the foundation has been running programs for San Diego kids and teens since 2008, it partnered with Rady in 2011 to harness the research-backed benefits of yoga for kids undergoing cancer treatment and their families. Volunteer yoga teachers such as Fautsch, many of whom are health care professionals and specialize in yoga for cancer recovery, visit the hospital’s oncology unit three days a week, going bed to bed to offer individualized sessions to whoever’s in the room—be it patients, parents, or friendly visitors. Sessions typically last about 30 minutes and range from pranayama and meditation in bed to asana on colorful mats carried in on carts by volunteers.

“When the yoga instructors would come by, my eyes would blink little hearts,” says Jessica Davidson, whose 10-year-old daughter, Julia Davidson, spent two years at Rady battling stage four neuroblastoma. Today, after undergoing surgical tumor removal and six rounds of frontline chemotherapy followed by immunotherapy—plus plenty of yoga and bedside dance parties (’80s and ’90s music were the jams)—Julia is precocious and thriving in remission. She still dances and practices yoga regularly, and tells me, “It’s really calming and good for the human body, so I recommend it.”

Chemotherapy and other cancer treatments like radiation are notoriously volatile and can slow growth in children. The most common side effects apart from hair loss include nausea and vomiting, trouble breathing, nerve damage (neuropathy), and a weakened immune system. While a growing body of research from the past two decades supports yoga’s ability to reduce symptoms and stress and improve mood and overall quality of life in cancer patients, yoga and physical therapist Kelli Bethel, the director of yoga therapy at the University of Maryland School of Medicine’s Center for Integrative Medicine, says customized practices tailored to each patient, like those at Rady, work best in real-life scenarios. In a health-research setting, however, proving yoga’s absolute potential through standardized clinical trials is nearly impossible: “Everyone’s cancer journey is different and their needs and symptoms vary,” she says. “It’s one thing to understand which methods of yoga apply to cancer patients, but having everyone follow a script—this pose, this exercise—that will never accurately demonstrate the full benefits.”

Pediatric research is also hard to come by, but according to a 2019 clinical feasibility study that examined the impact of yoga on pediatric outpatients receiving chemotherapy, the results of two recent pilot studies show that individualized yoga programs improved quality of life for adolescents receiving cancer treatment. Ultimately, the authors called for further investigation. To date, much of the evidence for yoga’s treatment benefits comes from breast cancer clinical trials, says Bethel.

To that end, Julia Fukuhara was working as a nurse and volunteer yoga instructor at Rady in 2013 when she realized her unique potential as a data collector. “We have some research that shows how imperative integrative medicine is for adults and for kids, but to actually see it frontline was mind blowing,” she says. Kids could sleep better afterward. They were less anxious. Oftentimes they required less pain- or anti-nausea medication.

When making their yoga rounds, Fukuhara and the other teachers on the ward kept detailed notebooks with dated entries describing patient conditions, applied yoga exercises, and outcomes. “We already had all this documentation in place, so we thought, let’s see if we can numerically capture this data with some kind of pain, anxiety, and quality-of-life measure,” she says. What ensued was a six-month study of 32 kids and their families who were surveyed before and after yoga sessions. The results will hopefully be published in the coming months, and Fukuhara is excited to report that she saw significant positive change.

See also This is How One Yogi Doctor Used Ayurveda to Treat His Own Cancer

Ten-year-old Julia Davidson keeps up with her yoga practice while in remission from neuroblastoma.

Common chemo drugs are known to depress the nervous system, says Fukuhara. For the kids she worked with at Rady, this often manifested as trouble breathing, balancing, and focusing—and eventually irreversible neuropathy and numbness in fingers and toes. During her study, which she co-authored with pediatric oncology nurse practitioner Jeanie Spies, Fukuhara found that stimulating power poses such as Virabhadrasanas (Warrior Poses) and Vrksasana (Tree Pose) fired up her patients’ nerves, making them resistant to the negative side effects of their medications. “It’s like we were enhancing the nervous system,” she says.

Spies is the founder of the integrative medicine program at Rady and coordinator of the yoga initiative. Her warm red hair feels like an extension of her personality: She geeks out over things like bone marrow biopsies and witnessing a patient’s first steps (she beamed recounting Savior’s as he bounced around the room). Spies says that what surprised her most was the profound effect the yoga sessions had on parents, like Jiao, who face sleepless nights marked by constant worry and interruptions from hospital staff. “We turn their lives upside down with the diagnosis of cancer,” Spies says. “The beauty of the yoga here is that it gives them a sense of relaxation and control, even if it’s only for 10 minutes.”

Ping Cao has a petite, fragile-looking frame—but don’t be fooled. The lines on her soft, worn face, like the glossy black hair she wears in a tight pixie cut, are evidence of her perseverance. The Chinese immigrant is a volunteer yoga teacher with the O’Shea Foundation who recently finished treatment for breast cancer. Yoga and, in particular, Sama Vritti Pranayama—a technique in which you breath and hold to counts of four—helped Cao mitigate fatigue and nausea while she was undergoing chemotherapy and radiation. The strength she’s derived from the practice and from the support of other cancer survivors is what she says led her to start volunteering at Rady.

See also Dharma Talk: Yoga by the Throat

AIMEE DE LUNA practices yoga with breast cancer survivor Ping Cao during treatment.

Research shows that yogic exercises as simple as pranayama (controlled breathing) can stimulate the immune system, and Cao begins most of her sessions in the pediatric oncology unit this way. Today she sits in a little teal chair beside 17-year old Aimee De Luna’s hospital bed. Four weeks earlier, De Luna, a high school senior, was prom-dress shopping at the mall with her mom when she fainted in the checkout line. Her pediatrician suspected anemia, but blood tests revealed leukemia. As an outpatient, she and her parents make the 1.5-hour drive from their home most days so Aimee can get chemotherapy. Today she smiles, eyes closed, sitting up still in her hospital gown, a gray beanie atop her head, as Cao guides her through a bedside meditation and stretching exercise. They’ve been practicing together like this for about three weeks now.

“The first time she asked me if I wanted to do it, I was a hard No,” De Luna laughs. “But by the third time, I was feeling a lot better and was up for the challenge.” She likes Cao’s “relaxing vibe” and calls their sessions “a fun little escape from chemotherapy and needles and all that bad stuff.” She’s come to look forward to it—it’s relaxing, the stretching feels good, and she enjoys spending time with Cao, who not too long ago was in De Luna’s shoes.

“I’m in a unique position,” Cao says. “When I walk into a room, I can see it in the kids: They are in pain, or they are experiencing something uncomfortable from their treatment, or they are scared. And I can feel it in the parents, too. But I can say, ‘Here I am. I had the same experience. I felt all these difficulties physically, emotionally, too, and I did yoga. It helped. And today, I’m still surviving, and you will, too.’”

#sleep sounds #sleep music #white noise app #nature sounds #relaxing sounds #rain sounds for sleeping

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cedarrrun · 5 years

Link

A volunteer yoga program at Rady Children’s Hospital in San Diego is bettering the lives of its oncology kids.

Aimee DeLuna practice yoga in her hospital bed.

See also Building a Strong Foundation for Cancer Healing

JAYMEEundefinedJIAO with her son, Savior-Makani Jiao in their former hospital room at Rady Children's in San Diego.

See also This is How One Yogi Doctor Used Ayurveda to Treat His Own Cancer

Ten-year-old Julia Davidson keeps up with her yoga practice while in remission from neuroblastoma.

See also Dharma Talk: Yoga by the Throat

AIMEE DE LUNA practices yoga with breast cancer survivor Ping Cao during treatment.

#sleep sounds #sleep music #white noise app #nature sounds #relaxing sounds #rain sounds for sleeping

0 notes

amyddaniels · 5 years

Text

How Yoga Is Helping Kids with Cancer

A volunteer yoga program at Rady Children’s Hospital in San Diego is bettering the lives of its oncology kids.

Aimee DeLuna practice yoga in her hospital bed.

See also Building a Strong Foundation for Cancer Healing

JAYMEEundefinedJIAO with her son, Savior-Makani Jiao in their former hospital room at Rady Children's in San Diego.

See also This is How One Yogi Doctor Used Ayurveda to Treat His Own Cancer

Ten-year-old Julia Davidson keeps up with her yoga practice while in remission from neuroblastoma.

See also Dharma Talk: Yoga by the Throat

AIMEE DE LUNA practices yoga with breast cancer survivor Ping Cao during treatment.

0 notes

viciousalicious-blog · 7 years

Photo

Scarlette couldn’t sleep that night. Despite being in the care of a djinn princess, it wasn’t danger that bothered her anymore. Every time she shut her eyes she relived the moment of only a few hours ago. She watched as vampires, the strigoi, surrounded her on the midnight streets, the full moon pierced through the dissipating rain clouds giving more light than the old street lamps would. And just as her fanged oppressors made their move, her mother Renae appeared in a crash of lightning.

Until then, her mother was nothing more to Scarlette than a loving parent who supplied for her, and was blissfully unaware of the secret world of magic and mythos. But there she was, staring down an army of vampires with a ornate silver staff, and a fierce glare that scared even Scarlette. She never saw anything but a smile on her mother’s face until then.

Renae fought the strigoi with both grace and power, using magic as if it were second nature. But the strigoi began to outnumber her. And just before they turned to attack Scarlette, Renae froze them in place, suspending them in chains and cuffs made from electricity. Scarlette was backed against a telephone pole as one of the vampire’s sharp claws was just out of reach of her neck. It was then she heard her mother’s last words.

“Scarlette.” Renae said, using all of her might to tether the vampires in place. “I’m sorry for lying to you… but you must finish this… no matter what happens.” The electricity surging around the area began to amplify, crackling, buzzing, and hissing. The trapped vampires began to growl and scream in pain. “I love you, Scarlette.” Renae raised her staff into the air, and a lightning bolt struck down. All that was seen was a flash of light, and then everyone was gone. Her mother, the horde of vampires… gone.

After a night of heartache and tears, Scarlette simply couldn’t calm down. Where did her mother go? Was she even alive? What did her mother know about all of this conspiracy and plots of chaos and evil? After hours of restlessness, Scarlette swung out from her bed and moved into the library of her host’s home. There she browsed through ancient tomes and scrolls, using a magic lens to decipher text she couldn’t understand. She spent all night, moving from book to book, creating an ever growing pile on the table, chair, and soon floor. Morning came, and before long Scarlette’s friends James and Azura came to check on her in her room.

Azura knocked once. “Hey Scarlette, you up? We have some work to do.” There was no response. “I know you’re still upset after what happened last night but… we don’t have all the time in the world. We’ll find your mother, trust me. But first we have to go find that artifact.” There was still no response. “Scarlette?” Azura said, slowly opening the door. She found the bed vacant, and the window open. “Scarlette!” She shouted, running to the window and seeing no one outside.

James called from the hallway, “Azura… come look at this.” Azura ran into the library and found James standing over the mountain of books Scarlette had perused the night before. She looked around at the many books, and stared in silent confusion. “Scarlette’s gotten quite resourceful. It was like pulling teeth to get her to do anything… but when it meets her agenda…”

“What was she looking for?” Azura questioned. “All these books…” Another voice called out from behind them. “Answers.” The two turned and looked at their other friend on the balcony overlooking the library. It was Nuri, the host and djinn princess that kept them safe. Nuri tossed a book down at the two. After catching it and glancing through the pages quickly, James furrowed his brow.

“This is…” James paused.

Nuri nodded. “She was desperate… and rightfully so.”

“You helped her.” Azura stated. “But this… this will lead her to—“

“I knew exactly what I was doing.” Nuri said, sternly.

“You’re going to get her killed!” Azura shouted.

“No… just some clarity.” Nuri said, turning and walking out of sight. James and Azura ran out of the house into the back yard and into the forest. They clambered over branches and bushes, crying out Scarlette’s name in hopes that they’d get her attention and warn her of danger. But Scarlette was far ahead of them, and even their cries wouldn’t stop her. What started as a brisk hike through the warm summer forests behind Nuri’s home, soon became an ominous trek.

Scarlette had marked her arms with painted black runes, and muttered cryptic ancient sayings with each step. She kept her path very specific, and soon enough the once green and humid forests soon became cold and bitter. The wind stopped brushing through the canopy and the trees became dead, and covered in frost. It wasn’t long before she started seeing owls in increasing numbers, all of them staring at Scarlette as she continued her march.

Soon she heard an echoing laughter of a woman surrounding her. The owls soon filled entire tree branches, lined up wing to wing. Scarlette was still determined and wouldn’t let fear strike her down this time. She spun around, searching for the woman who was well aware of her presence. She had turned around at least three times before she stopped to see a woman sitting on a tree branch. It was only her bare legs and hands she could see, her nails sharp like talons. The rest of her was masked in a cloak and cowl, and creeping out from under her dark attire were the ends of wings. Scarlette wasn’t sure if it was part of the clothing, or the wings belonged to the woman, but at this point she didn’t care. More peculiarly was the steaming teacup the woman held in her hand.

“Come closer, dear… Everything will be grand.” The woman said, her accent sounding distinctly Irish. Scarlette stepped forward. The owls continued to stare at her. “You wasted no time coming here.”

“You… you expected me?” Scarlette asked. “Then you know why I’m here.”

The woman laughed. “To be sure I know. It’s me business to know.” She took a sip of her beverage. “You be wanting answers… and you wanted them so badly you came to me.”

"Who are you?" Scarlette asked.

"I go by many names, dear. Just like you do, blood child. I've been called Morrigan... Lilith... Moirai... been even called Cucuvea from time to time by the wandering caravans."

“If any of those names are real then know where my mother is, so tell me. Nuri warned me about striking up a conversation with people like you.” Scarlette shouted.

The woman crossed her ankles over each other. “Now, don’t be rude. Come have a cup of tea. It’s mighty cold out here, you know. You might catch a cold… or worse.”

“No! I’m done with riddles. I’m done with all this cryptic… BS. This whole secret world crap. I’m done! My mom, who I thought was the one person I could rely on to be totally normal, was in on everything this whole time, and now she’s gone. Poof! Even Nuri doesn’t know! What am I supposed to do!? You’re the only one who can tell me where my mom is! And I want answers, and I want them now! No quests. No trades. No exchanges. Nothing! Just answers!”

Scarlette couldn’t see it, but she felt the woman was grinning at her. “Ah, what a fearsome human you are, ruffling your feathers like you’re something terrible. But you know… it’s quite troubling to be blathering to me like that. I hope you don’t talk to all the others gods that way... unless you’re looking to get hurt. Most don’t put up with such disrespect… especially from a human. A sweet… tasty human.”

Scarlette glared forward. “I’m not afraid of you.”

The woman leaned back a little. “I can see that, dearie. And ‘cause I know who you are I ain’t in the business to be harming you… yet. You have some work to be doing… and I’m not gonna get in the way of that.”

“You mean saving the world? I told everyone, I’m not cut out for that. Find someone else. Besides what do you care? You’re on the side of chaos… you’d rather see this world burn.” Scarlette said.

The woman chuckled. “Not all of us evil ones be evil. We don’t all want to see the world go out. We live here. And we thrive on much more than destruction. If this world burned… I’d burn up with it. And if a shining lassy of good is gonna be saving it… let her.”

“Well, that doesn’t matter. I still want to know where my mom is.” Scarlette demanded.

The woman remained quiet for a time. “I can’t help you.”

“What?” Scarlette questioned. “That’s… what do you want? Fine, I’ll play your stupid game. If—“

“I can’t help you, lassy. No matter what price you offer.”

“Why not?!” Scarlette shouted, stepping forward.

The woman shrugged. “Easy. I don’t know where your ma is.”

“But you see everything! In all realms! Dead or alive.”

“That might be true. But I only see what ain’t hiding from me eyes.”

“You mean…” Scarlette softened, relaxing her clenched fists.

“Your ma don’t want to be found.”

Scarlette’s legs buckled before she fell onto her knees. “But… but why?”

“Everything’s done for a reason… your ma had hers. I might not know where she is… but I can tell you why she’s hiding. And I think you already know the answer to that.”

Scarlette gripped the leaves at her side. “I have to finish it…”

“Aye…” The woman sipped her tea again. “I can see into the future. And I don’t see your ma ‘til the job be done, lassy.”

Scarlette sighed and stood up. “Sorry to bother you.”

“’It’s all right Scarlette. But, if the fate be true and you do save the world, you best not be coming in my forests again. Hearts like yours taste extra sweet.” Scarlette nodded. “Now get out of me forest.” With a wave of her hand, Scarlette was swept into a sudden vortex of leaves and dust, and with a few spins she was teleported back to Nuri’s backyard near James and Azura.

“Scarlette!” James shouted.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Azura asked.

“I’m fine.” Scarlette said, standing to her feet. She stood and faced Nuri, who stared at her with her arms crossed.

“I see she told you exactly what you needed to hear.” Nuri said. Scarlette nodded. “Then let’s go… we have work to do.”

#brainstorming #story #short story #contemporary fantasy #mythology

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I Live In Centralia, PA: It’s America’s Creepiest Ghost Town

Get intimate with our new podcast Cracked Gets Personal. Subscribe for fascinating episodes like My Job Was Killing People: 3 Soldiers Tell Us Everything and Behind Every War News Story Is A 20-Something College Kid.

In 1962, there was a trash fire in a strip mine beneath Centralia, Pennsylvania. Well, we say “was” — there still is. That unassuming little fire ignited an eternal hellish blaze which burns underground to this day. Centralia is one of the most famous ghost towns on earth, but the term “ghost town” is not perfectly accurate, because a handful of people still live there. We spoke with a few former residents, Jack and Becky, as well as one current resident, Jack’s dad, “Guy.” They told us …

The Earth Literally Eats People And Animals

Centralia was a thriving mining town right up until that whole “perpetual hellfire” thing. The land beneath it is honeycombed with mines and tunnels, and the fires have spread all through them. Sometimes the ground up and collapses, devouring whatever surface life lies above with its terrible burning maw. Jack explained: “The scariest things are the sinkholes. You need to watch your step in the woods, because the ground can give way. The fire might have burnt through a foot of coal, but the ground looks like it’s at the level it’s always been. So you step out there and you have some people coming back with broken ankles.”

Really, broken ankles aren’t all that bad compared to some of the things people in other towns face. But Centralia’s sinkholes are more ambitious than that: “The incident that told everyone ‘Maybe we should move’ was when a young kid down the street had a sinkhole collapse around him, and he was sucked down. His mother was watching him, turned around, and when she looked back, he was gone into the pit. This pit went 100 feet down, and looked like a cone if you looked down. He would have died if his arms weren’t stretched out. When they pulled him out, a huge plume of smoke came out, and you could just see the fire at the bottom of the hole.”

That boy, Todd Domboski, survived and presumably went on to write a bestselling book about his escape from the bowels of Hell. Other human-sized creatures in Centralia have not been as lucky.

PBS We keep waiting for glowing eyes to appear.

“Every once in a while, you would come across a deer sticking out vertically with steam billowing out. They looked like they were crawling out. The poor deer had fallen into a sinkhole and had either starved to death or suffocated to death from the fumes. My friends would claim to see smoke coming out of its mouth, like it had been burnt alive, but it was just the way the smoke came out.”

This means the kids who grew up in Centralia before it was completely abandoned had to deal with death on a pretty regular basis. Becky told us about watching the violent death of a neighbor’s cat: “We were swinging in the backyard, and this patch of grass suddenly turned brown. Their cat was standing there, and it suddenly became brown. It didn’t make any noise, and we thought she had done something to make it all suddenly brown, like flipping a sheet over. But it was just another hole, and the cat went down. We didn’t say anything until we jumped off and went over to the fence to see that it was another sinkhole, and we called out to our neighbor, but after some light digging (NEVER go into a sinkhole by yourself), her cat was gone.”

Asphalt Films

Sinkholes even caused an entire stretch of highway to be rerouted after holes and gas buckled parts of it back in 1994. The state did its best to hide the old highway, but because of the dangers lurking beneath, they never got rid of it. And it’s still there, waiting for George Miller to make a much more colorful Mad Max sequel.

Life In A Ghost Town Is … Interesting

Underneath Centralia, the endless fire has created an environment as deadly as the surface of Saturn. While the gases aren’t lethal up above, they still play hell with the resident’s health. Poison gas has even built up in some citizens’ basements. Guy explained how that all simply became part of the weather in Centralia. “We always had the smoke, and my wife felt sick if she was near it. We stay away from it. It’s bad news. Only the tourists go into the damn thing.”

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And Becky elaborated: “There was a lot of coughing. If you know what black lung is [this], it’s what the coughing sounded like. It’s this cough where you can hear the mucus. Worse than what smokers have. If you spent enough time near the smoke, you got a cough like that. And if you were a miner developing black lung, who smoked and spent time near the smoke, like my dad, then you knew when they were home, because you heard the worst cough in the world. If you went to a nearby store and you heard the cough, odds are they were from Centralia.”

This isn’t all in the past. Toxic gases still billow from burnt-out places, and that poses a major threat. Vents were built to pipe the steam away from town into areas of eminent domain where no one lives anymore.

Due to all the underground damage, many homes need additional supports (especially if the former houses next door were means of support for them), so they look like they have six or seven chimneys.

Becky points out that the fame of Centralia also means a lot of tourism. She lived there until her 20s, and while she was in grade school, her dying town became a Halloween vacation destination: “Everyone wanted to trick or treat near me. They didn’t care that they got less candy. They wanted to be scared. A few years some of that steam would rise, or it would be foggy. With all the abandoned houses, it was better than a haunted house. To them. Me, it was another day.”

Even outside of Halloween, tourists would come by just to take in the poisonous “atmosphere” in Centralia. “Whenever people visited from, say, Harrisburg or Lancaster, they would get scared easily. The ground would give out from under them and they’d fall in to their knees, and they’d go ‘Oh my God!’ I was so used to it that I said, ‘Sometimes it does that,’ and went on. This wasn’t unusual. My mom or dad would say not to go into the steam and to stay away from the ‘openings,’ and they always asked what that was. When they found out, they asked if they were going to die, and my dad, eloquent as ever, would say, ‘Oh, probably not.’ Not to be funny, but actually being serious about it.”

People Just … Didn’t Care About The Danger

People are remarkably good at ignoring imminent doom. For evidence of this, read absolutely any newspaper in the world today. It wasn’t until 1984, after several kids were sucked into sinkholes and the underground tanks at a local gas station nearly exploded, that the U.S. government ordered a total evacuation of the town. People still stayed behind, so in 1992, the governor put the entire town under eminent domain. In 2002, the state took their zip code away, and in 2009, the governor announced that all holdouts would be evacuated for their own good.

There are still seven people living in Centralia.

Jack explains why many of those residents ignored the government back then, even when it was doing something as reasonable as evacuating Toxic Firetown, USA. “We had meetings with scientists explaining what was happening. They were talking to miners, some of whom had degrees, so they didn’t have to go layman.” The denizens of Centralia understood coal and the mines, but they still weren’t able to accept that their hometown was now the abode of Satan himself. “The scientists, and even other miners, were telling them that the town could fall in piece by piece or get toxic gas, but they denied it, and said they’d continue to live here because they didn’t see it. These were after pits started opening up, but they STILL said no.”

Jack’s father, Guy, isn’t exactly on the same page. He’s one of the few that stayed behind. And he did it largely to spite those damned scientists and government officials who rolled into town to talk down to him and his neighbors. “They thought they knew more than us, but they were wrong. How come the town hasn’t collapsed like they said? It’s not as bad as they said, and you see that now.”

Jack and Guy’s disagreement is nothing new. Back when the evacuation efforts started, Centralia itself was bitterly divided over whether the fire was a threat or not. Becky remembers: “My parents stayed, because they didn’t think they could afford to move. But then they got an offer for double the value of their home, and they took it. My neighbor ([the one] who owned the cat), she stayed. She had seen the danger firsthand, and lost something she loved to it, but she wasn’t budging. The last time I was there, she was shouting from her porch at some men in suits who obviously wanted her house.”

In 2013, after a battle lasting over 20 years, the remaining ten residents were allowed to stay, but once they’re gone, their homes go to the public domain. Guy sums it neatly: “It’s my home. That’s all there is to it.”

Becky thinks that for some of those last remaining residents, staying in Centralia may be less about spite and more about living in a place so dangerous it’s effectively off the grid: “My old neighbor, until the day she died, would chase off journalists with a broom and hide sprinklers in her lawn to turn them on when people got near. I know before she died, she said she was ‘in talks’ to buy a cellphone jammer, which seems incredibly illegal, but this woman was also fine with threatening to spray bug spray at tourist’s dogs.”

The Government Is Trying to Erase Centralia

Jack pointed out that 20 years ago, while Centralia was emptying out, the town still looked more or less like it always had. But over the last two decades, the state government has been doing its damnedest to wipe the town away. “As soon as they bought houses, they tore them down and covered them with plants. Then they took out as much of the foundations as they could. Then they removed the lip in the curb. They don’t exist, and it looks like they never did.”

We took a picture of Becky’s old house:

“See that? You can kinda tell where a driveway was. But that’s it. No sign of the huge gate we had, or of the stairs, or anything.”

Jack continues: “They took away the name. One day, all the signs were gone. All the signs showing nearby towns had been replaced, with ‘Centralia’ [left] off. They even later covered up an arrow showing a way to get to another city through Centralia, so people passing through can’t get here.”

They removed Centralia’s name from the city municipal building:

The county records office is slowly removing the town from history, which has made life tough on Jack’s dad: “When my father went in to check his property lines, it took almost half a day to find a copy, because they had trashed so much of Centralia.”

The county has also cut back on basic services for the seven people who still live there. Says Jack: “My father doesn’t get mail. Officially, Centralia has no zip code, so nothing can be sent there. Everybody needs a PO box in another town, or need their family to collect it. All of my father’s mail is sent to me. He also stopped using checks. You can’t put Centralia down anymore, due to the zip code, and he didn’t want to ‘burden’ me with putting my address down as his. He went full cash and debit.”

Becky points out that the lack of a PO box has an even more disastrous consequence: It’s made pizza delivery much more difficult. “My parents, after they took away the zip code, couldn’t just give directions to people. If they didn’t know about Centralia, they needed to be specific. I overheard my parents say to pizza guys on the phone ‘Go to Aristes. Then head south on 42. Third little street you see, halfway turn right. We’re the only house on the street.'”

Tourists Are Destroying The Town

Centralia had 1,000 residents in 1980. It was down to 63 in 1990, and ten in 2010. The coal industry left after the whole, uh, giant apocalyptic coal fire thing. But even with all that, Centralia could’ve survived. There’s the tourism aspect, and the fact that it’s kind of an ideal filming location.

Unfortunately, tourism’s mostly benefited neighboring towns, since the state won’t issue new business permits in Centralia. The places selling souvenirs, gasoline, and lodgings are all outside Centralia’s old borders. Since the tourists don’t bring money into town, residents have come to hate them. Jack explained: “They’ll walk on lawns and property freely, thinking it’s abandoned. They’ll always be asking, ‘Why do you live here?’ They dump trash everywhere … The worst are the tourists who leave graffiti.”

Guy has some even more complaints: “They chipped at my house. For a souvenir, like they wanted a piece of the Lord’s cross. Chip chip chip, and they took a part of my stairs. Then they wrote ‘Let it burn’ on it. Why would they do that?”

So what can he do about it? Basically nothing. Jack explains that staying in Centralia means living beyond a lot of modern conveniences … like law enforcement. “We have no police anymore. [State and county] police come through town, of course, but for something routine, it’s not a big deal.”

The town has been beaten up so badly by these visitors that, according to Jack, Hollywood doesn’t really have any interest in filming there anymore. He told us about one time that several location scouts came through town (likely working on The Road), but decided they just couldn’t work there. “The movie people came here, looked around, decided it had too much graffiti, and shot on another abandoned highway out near Pittsburgh. Other Hollywood people talked to my father quickly (Centralia residents don’t like the press), and they liked the look, but they said ‘It might be too much graffiti,’ and since they never came back, it probably was.”

weible1980/iStock Unless Bansky was directing, then yeah.

Becky adds: “For the last five years or so, [tourists have] been way more destructive than the fire.”

Despite intermittent police crackdowns, trespassing has been on the upswing. A lot of that probably has to do with the fact that so many articles on the internet have spread the story of Centralia. So, uh, sorry about that?

Readers, trust us here: Don’t visit Centralia. And if you do, don’t draw on anything. And super duper don’t break pieces off of people’s houses. That’s just messed up. Residents have enough problems.

Evan V. Symon is a journalist and interviewer for Cracked, who was on location in Centralia and didn’t die. Have an awesome job/experience you’d like to see here? Hit us up at [email protected] today!

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