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#i saw my grandad in my dream and now i miss him again
leelee1234love · 10 days
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The beginning
18+ Minors DNI!!!
Full Masterlist TUA Masterlist
Pairing: Five hargreeves x Fem!reader
Summary: The beginning, your story.
Warnings: mentions of blood,Murder,reader has powers,angst,brother dies,readers family dies,fighting,death!!! (Please tell me if I missed any!!!)
It all started about 50 Years ago, well 50 years and 2 months ago to be exact. I'll never forget that day, because the day started perfectly normal.
Nobody tells you just how loud the sound of silence is. at that moment, I felt like I could hear everything and nothing at the same time.
———
Aged Eight.
It was around 2-4 in the morning judging by the colour of the dark blue sky outside and she was woken by her dad sprinting out of his room, petrified. She'd never seen him so panicked.
Her first thought was, maybe they were being robbed? maybe someone broke in?
That was until her mum sprinted out after her dad with her brother in her arms. He was limp and blue.
She felt her body stop, she ran over to her parents and reached out to her brother and she'll never forget the feeling of touching his face.
She stood there as her parents panicked and rushed calling the ambulance and once they got there she still stood watching them leave with her brother.
She still had hope though. I mean this stuff only happens in grown up movies? It definitely won't happen to us. Right?
No. Of course not.
Right?
She was taken to her grandparents house and stayed there for a couple hours with her two other brothers.
She sat there on the sofa, watching her grandad pace up and down the kitchen.
But after awhile she sat watching out the window of the front garden. Waiting. Waiting to see her parents again with her brother.
Maybe he was sick? And needed some medicine?
Maybe he needs some cheering up?
We'll make him better. He'll be fine. This is just a really vivid dream.
Not long later she saw her parents arrive without her brother.
Maybe he had to stay at the hospital cause he still needs medicine?
No. All the optimistic thoughts are gone because
she just knew.
She could feel it through the window and across to them.
She just knew.
He's not going to be okay. She felt it.
Her parents came in crying, "he's- he's" they didn't even get the word out and we all knew.
It's not going to be okay.
He's gone.
Forever.
Because that's the thing with time, nothing can buy it or get it back not even the richest or happiest.
But things didn't get much better after that.
———
Aged eight:
Around five months after her brother passed away, all her family were still mourning.
But today her parents both went out to grab some food for her and her brothers.
And once they collected all the things they needed. They left, hopped in the car and drove back home.
But on the way, a drunk driver swerved into the side of their car, killing them both.
She was devastated and it still didn't get better after that.
It actually got worse.
None of her distant relatives wanted to take care over them so her and her two younger brothers all had to go separate ways.
She never saw her brothers again.
She gave them both massive hugs, sobbing as they went different ways.
And your probably wondering 'how does this relate to five Hargreaves?'
The little girl in this story didn't go to an orphanage or a foster home or a happy place at all.
A certain man flew over to England and somehow got the social services woman to give him custody of you.
A man you had never met.
Reginald Hargreeves.
"Come with me, come on now don't hover around." He said sternly not even batting an eye to you.
You followed him still in your nightgown, trying to hide your sobs.
———
"Y/n? Are you listening to me?" Five cut you out of your thoughts as he waved a hand in front of your face.
"Huh?"
"I was saying...If my calculations are correct we can get back all we have to do is get a briefcase." Five said grinning at you near the end of his sentence.
"Oh god, what now?"  You asked tiredly
"Well..i was hoping-"
"hoping I could use my powers?" You cut him off and he nodded with a somewhat pleading grin.
"Alright..but if this time doesn't work I'm gonna kill you myself." You sighed and he nodded behind you grinning as you walked off.
———
After Reginald took you in, he helped you understand your power to great lengths.
"Reality warping".
You can change reality and quite literally defeat the laws of science. However it does come with some cons.
You can only change things you know or can imagine.
You have to be in 'the zone' is what you call it.
And one of the biggest cons is, when you use your power it drains you.
And I mean drains you.
Your energy levels - actually no, all your levels go down.
———
"Go down the left corridor and into the wooden door. And I'll meet you" five whispered and you nodded.
You did as he said and sneakily went into the wooden door, it was a meeting room and If im five was right, it would be filled with people in around two minutes.
You hid behind the door in the corner of the room and waited.
When they began walking in, you sat there and held your feet to your head.
Once you calmed down and focused, all the men began dropping dead.
Once they were all on the floor, five blinked next to you and grabbed a briefcase.
He grabbed your hand and blinked you both back to the middle of nowhere.
"Y/n?  you okay?" He asked you and you nodded tiredly.
"Do ya think it's gonna work?" You asked him breathlessly and he didn't respond.
Your guess was he probably didn't wanna get your hopes up to much.
———
This is my first series so i know It’s probably not the best!!! 🧡💛
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aita-blorbos · 14 days
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AITA for almost getting my friends and family killed?
Ok, so I (M, 17), recently got a job at an animation studio. This had been my dream for a while now, as I love to draw and I have always wanted to be a professional artist. I think my new boss, D, wasn't really hiring anyone new at the time he hired me because everyone was confused as to why I was there at all, but I got settled pretty quickly.
Then weird stuff started happening. D apparently had put pipes in to run ink through, and one of the pipes had burst in the sheet music closet and covered the musical director, S, in ink. I didn't really think anything of it, but later S began to pester the animators for ink. This seems weird but I saw him drinking some. He also seemed to be obsessed with this...machine. I've never seen it but I know it exists.
Anyways. The thing above is important, I swear. You see, I also wanted to prove myself to D. He had a lot of faith in me. Showed me things he didn't show anyone else, like the theater he has bought out. He even took me out for dinner to tell me about his big plans. Treated me real special. So...I may have stolen some ink and paper to take home. You see, I don't have much at home and I didn't want to show D a drawing on the back of a receipt. So I took it home, and tried drawing. It didn't look good, but my granddad drew something really good! And I accidentally showed that to D the next day so I wouldn't get fired. Luckily he believed me, but this just made me work harder. Though...the picture, the drawing itself...it had moved on the paper. This is important, I swear.
I began to stay late to practice, and I practiced with my granddad too. I got much better. But one night I was working real late at the studio, and I heard a noise. I got up to investigate. It took a while to find anything, but I ended up opening a door. A door that I shouldn't have opened. I think I let something out. It scared me.
A few days later I realized something really bad. The ink was alive, somehow. It could leech off paper. You see, at this point S had gone missing. So we knew something was up. I ran home from work because I got so scared, and the ink was already trying to take over my grandad. I washed it off in time but I didn't feel good. The studio was shut down for a few days, but work started again eventually.
Now I just feel so bad. Did I do something real bad?
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little-diable · 2 years
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God Stood Me Up - Tom Hiddleston (smut)
Yesterday would have been my grandad's birthday and I miss him more than words will ever be able to express. I have quite a strange relationship with death, hence why I felt the need to finally turn him into a being I can find comfort in. I don't really know what this is, all I can say is that it was inspired by "Lights are On" by Tom Rosenthal. Please give this a chance, even though there is a big angst warning. Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Death is supposed to collect the reader's soul, but what happens if he falls in love with her? Within a few moments the immortal being finds himself drawn to the young woman that invites him in, to find shelter while the sky is crying for her nearing death.
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f), sex with a stranger, religious connotations, death, character death (not in a cruel, descriptive way), angst, no happy end per se
Pairing: Death!Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader (3.5k words)
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The smell of rain hung in the air, wrapping itself around the tall man like a memory finding its way back to him. Though no memory of his long life was a happy, comforting one, no, all he knew was pain and sadness. A sober thought the man would struggle with whenever he’d stare at the ones living life to the fullest. His shiny black boots pounded against the ground leading up to her house, another night where he’d get to collect a young soul. Those days and nights were daunting, they’d follow him around for days, not letting go of the one that had been collecting souls for millennia.
All he had to do was call her name, to reach out his hand for her to take - but tonight his soul felt heavier than it should. He’d suffer, that much he was certain of.
The second he saw her, through one of her big windows, he froze in his step. She was gorgeous, a masterpiece only known to the ones fortunate enough. He couldn’t stop watching her, not as he felt his body being pushed forwards, hoping that he’d get the job over and done with, not as he buried his heel in the ground to keep himself from reaching her door.
He wanted to watch her, till time would run out and a new century would come. She was too young to be ripped from this life, too pure to say goodbye to the ones that love her. Not once had he experienced something like this, a feeling those with beating hearts would describe as excitement, admiration and perhaps even love.
The Father above hadn’t crafted him to feel, he hadn’t been created to build a life for himself, no, his only mission was to call those that had lived enough hours of the life offered to them home. Not once had he doubted his mission, the endless nights he’d wander this earth, but now he couldn’t help but curse the One. He wanted to live a life like those with a beating heart, he wanted to be loved and to appreciate every fraction of time. A dream he’d never be able to turn real.
He stared at the notebook in his hands, (y/n) - what a beautiful name. He tested it on his tongue, silently whispering it - though not loud enough for her to hear. Perhaps he could rip her page from the book, perhaps he would manage to hide her from His knowing eyes - just this once. But there was no escaping Him, He would always catch up with the ones working their hours for him.
(Y/n) was talking on the phone to one of her friends as her eyes caught sight of the man standing outside her door. And for a moment she froze, wondering why he was standing in the cold, with rain pouring from the sky as if the clouds above were crying. The sane half of her brain asked her to close the curtains - he could be dangerous after all - but the other half begged her to open her door, to ask if he needed help.
And so she hung up her phone, following the pull she felt inside her chest, not knowing that she would never speak to her friend again. Not in this life. She didn’t feel scared, felt an awfully comforting sensation swap through her. The warm sun shining down on her on a summer afternoon wouldn’t manage to heat up her body like this, the tightest embrace from a loved one wouldn’t manage to calm her down like this very sensation.
“Can I help you?” His bright eyes met hers, she felt all air leaving her lungs, evaporating into the nothingness. The man kept quiet, not replying to (y/n) as she repeated the words, hoping that he’d give in and speak up. “You must be freezing, at least wait under here till the rain passes by.”
Wordlessly he stepped closer, his notebook found its way back into his black suit pocket, hidden from her curious eyes. (Y/n) didn’t move, not as he found his way to her terrace, not as he came to a halt next to her, with his eyes studying her features. He was handsome, more handsome than she’d ever be able to describe with simple words. She had to force herself to stop staring at him, not wanting to creep the soaking wet man out.
“Do you want some tea?” The moment he spoke up, (y/n)’s body started trembling, making her feel as if her soul was saying goodbye to her body. Her heartbeat sped up, roaring in her chest, it was crying her name, begging her to keep on breathing, to run to safety. But (y/n) didn’t pay any attention to the warning, too focused on his soft voice.
“Yes, please. I am sorry for disturbing you, seems like I got lost out there.” She couldn’t tell where he was from, the unfamiliar accent shot heat through her body, not able to pinpoint it. A few chuckles bubbled out of the man as his eyes flickered back to the road leading up to her house, a sound so sweet (y/n) couldn’t help but give in.
“I’ll be right back.” The first roar of thunder echoed through the cold evening as (y/n) disappeared inside her house. It was a warning, the first of a few that would follow, sounds he chose to blindly ignore. He’d savour every moment of this evening, and would forever relish in her company. If all he would get was this evening, he would cling to it with every fraction of his being, he would offer a part of his immortal soul, just to be with the woman he was supposed to call home. A stranger he had fallen in love with within seconds.
“Here, some blankets and a towel. Please, sit.” (Y/n) pointed towards the bench, waiting till the man had sat down. She placed the blankets next to him and left again, only to return shortly after with two cups of hot tea. He had placed a blanket over his thighs - though not before drying his curls and his face - was now opening it wide enough for her to sit down right next to him, cuddled into the comfortable pillows. “I’m (y/n).”
“Tom. Thank you for giving me shelter, (y/n).” It almost pained him to lie, leaving soft cuts on his soul, cuts that wouldn’t heal, a reminder for years to come, a reminder of the moment he fell in love with a stranger. “Are you from around here?”
“I am, grew up in this very house. What about you?” She took a sip of the hot tea, the smile that began to pull on her lips had an addicting effect to it, forcing a smile onto Tom’s thin lips. It took him a moment to reply, trying to search for the right answer, something that wouldn’t give away too much information.
“No, I’m just here to visit some relatives.” (Y/n) didn’t press on, allowing a comfortable silence to wrap itself around them like the blankets that covered their bodies. She couldn’t help but feel like she was talking to a friend, somebody she had known for years on end, somebody she knew everything about. A strange feeling, something she had never experienced before. “Do you believe in God, (y/n)?”
“Uhm,” laughter rumbled through her, what a weird question to ask a stranger. “I don’t. Can’t help but feel like God stood me up.” The second roar of thunder rang in their ears, as if the Father above wanted to call her name, forcing Tom to give in and to take her hand, to lead her home to the one she didn’t believe in. “What about you? Are you religious?”
“I wish I was, but I haven’t found something to believe in, yet.” He was His friend, a companion, though not a follower of the order built by the Father. Tom had never believed in the ways of life He was preaching, had never found trust in the institutions He had built. A lone wanderer, that’s all he ever was and all he ever will be.
“That’s quite sad, isn’t it?” The rain grew heavier with every minute passing by, minutes she wasn’t supposed to live through, minutes the man was gifting her without knowing why. All he knew was that he didn’t want to let go of her nor the feeling simmering inside of him. She was making him feel alive, as if he was one of them. A mere human being with a beating heart and blood flushing through his veins.
“Perhaps, I never thought about it that way. Maybe I will find it one day.” He took a sip of the tea, it was still hot, warmed up by his touch. “I am sorry that was awfully heavy. Tell me more about you, do you always take care of strangers?”
Once again, she couldn’t stop her laugh from rumbling through her, head thrown back to give the sound enough room to echo through the dark evening, “I don’t. I study, I work and I like to read, there’s nothing really exciting about me.”
Tom couldn’t help but wonder why he was supposed to take her, a question he had never asked himself before. He would always follow commands, would always take the souls without questioning his mission. Could it be that He had made a mistake? That He didn’t want to call her home but somebody else close to her?
“Don’t talk yourself down, that sounds quite exciting. What is your favourite read?” Perhaps he’d slow time down while asking her questions that came to mind, questions he’d use to distract himself from the need he felt, the need to kiss her, to taste her on his tongue. Tom had found shelter in numerous beds before, chasing the highs that wouldn’t leave him satisfied in the slightest. But with her it would be different, Tom was sure of it.
“This may sound cheesy, but I have to say Romeo and Juliet. Sometimes I find myself longing for a love like theirs, even though they were just teenagers.” The first bolt of lightning struck the sky, He was growing impatient. Tom didn’t pay any attention to the lights dancing across the sky like heartbeats pumping strength through their veins, he didn’t want to stop staring at her, scared that time would run out before he could appreciate every part of her. “I don’t think I will ever experience love, it feels like my time is running out before I can properly start living my life.”
“I know the feeling,” words he wanted to speak but couldn’t were burning on the tip of his tongue. Nothing would ever be as it once was, she wouldn’t get the chance to love someone the way she wanted to, wouldn’t even hear those lovely three words spoken out loud. Their eyes met, a shift in the air brought them closer, a shift Tom didn’t fight against, even if he should. (Y/n) didn’t give in, something was holding her back, perhaps it was the uncertainty she felt, he was still a stranger after all, but perhaps somebody else was forcing her to stop her body from moving closer.
“Have you ever loved someone, Tom?” By now their cups were empty, but the rain kept pouring, allowing her to relax further in her seat. He wouldn’t leave just yet.
“I have, at least I think so.” It pained him to speak those words, leaving him with a hole inside his chest. He wouldn’t get to experience the love he was oh so desperate for, she would be ripped from his grasp before he could savour their time together.
Heaven help the blind fool who falls in love.
“Come, I’ll make us another cup.” Tom followed her inside, his eyes wandered through the rooms he walked past, slowing down to take in the pictures gracing her walls. Memories her friends and family would cherish once she would leave this life behind.
Her kitchen was dark, no light was alighting the room, a comfort both were desperately seeking. They shared no words as (y/n) filled her kettle, no words were spoken as Tom moved closer, resting in front of her with his piercing eyes finding hers. Only as he cupped her cheek, eyes flickering between hers and her lips, did he dare to speak a soft “can I?”. With the nod of her head, (y/n) allowed him to press his lips against hers, soft at first, testing the waters. He wanted to give her the chance to pull away, but (y/n) stayed close. She had never done this before, had never felt so safe in the presence of a stranger.
Their kiss grew heated, he pressed her against the counter as she parted her lips for his tongue. They fought for victory, wanting to explore every part of one another. She didn’t stop his hands from wandering, didn’t stop him from placing her on top of her cold counter. All she wanted was to be held by him, the stranger that left her heart racing in anticipation, the stranger her heart was calling out to.
A symphony that would be muted when the first sun rays would alight her then empty home.
“Tell me to stop and I will.” Tom’s rough voice shot shudders down her spine, goosebumps rose on her skin, leaving her trembling in his grasp. She didn’t speak up, didn’t tell him to stop, all she did was pull him in for another kiss. Skilled fingers helped her out of her sweater, exposing her naked chest to his twinkling eyes.
(Y/n) had always wanted to see the northern lights with her own eyes, nature's finest spectacle, but now as she was getting lost in his pupils, she wondered if wasn’t staring right at them at that very moment. One day she’d make it to a place where she could watch them in their purest form, (y/n) was sure of it. The feeling of his cold hands cupping her naked breasts ripped her out of her state, she moaned against his lips, hoping that he’d keep on touching her all through the night.
“You’re beautiful, so fucking beautiful, darling.” He kissed his way down her throat, sucked on her sensitive spot as he squeezed her hardening nubs. Her whimpers urged him on to kiss his way down further, he sucked on her nipples, leaving bite marks here and there. With her hands buried in his hair, (y/n) found herself falling into the rawest state of pleasure, no longer worried about her morals and the ‘what if’s’, all she cared about was him and his touch. “May I?”
He was waiting for her consent, fingertips running along the outlines of her sweatpants. Her nod felt like a bullet piercing through his skin, like fire burning him inside out, he was feeling more alive than he had ever felt before. With her back pressed against the counter top, (y/n)’s eyes fluttered close, allowing herself to focus all her attention onto his wandering hands. Her sweatpants and panties found their way to the ground, giving Tom enough room to press his lips against her thighs, kissing both of them before he pressed his open mouth against her core.
“I’ll stop if you want me to.” Tom felt the need to give her another way out, not wanting to pressure her. But (y/n) only cried out his name, hoping that his mouth would find its way back to her aching cunt. “So beautiful, I wish I could stay here forever.” Tom never wanted this to end, he’d give up his immortality if it meant living with (y/n) till the end of this life.
She needed something to hold onto, not used to the urgent brushes of his tongue. (Y/n) tugged on his roots, eliciting the sweetest sounds from him. Tom dipped his tongue into her tightness, spreading her walls around the muscle, fuck, he couldn’t wait to fuck her to oblivion.
Once again the sky was roaring their names, hoping that the two would finally stop their charade and follow the calling. A helpless cry the two ignored as if they couldn’t hear the loud growling sounds.
“Fuck, Tom. Feels so good, ‘m close.” She wasn’t ashamed about her nearing orgasm, wasn’t ashamed that she’d give in so soon. All she needed was to feel the high that would momentarily robb her lungs of the air she was desperate for. (Y/n) reveld in the feeling of his tongue fucking her and his thumb rubbing her clit, pushing her over the edge with a cry clawing through her.
He allowed her to calm down, to catch her breath before he’d make her drown in her pleasure once again. His aching cock twitched in his grasp, he spat into his palm, pumped his cock a few times before he found himself asking for her consent once again. A question she answered with a breathless “please”.
Tom filled her to the brim, burning walls stretching around his cock as if she had never been fucked before. He fucked her with a kind of urgency he had never felt before, deep down he knew their time together was running out, it would fade into the nothingness, like the soul he’d take from her body.
Their bodies clashed together with every ferocious thrust, forcing them to hold onto one another’s trembling body. Their sounds drowned out the cries the sky produced, purely focused on one another. Tom’s lips found hers, swallowing the sounds that rumbled through their chests.
“So perfect, wish I could forever call you mine.” A wave of sadness thumped through her, it filled her pores, and was sinking into her skin like poison. A poison she didn’t know the antidote for. (Y/n) was seeing stars, so bright and blinding she felt as if she was being reborn, Tom was pushing her into a state of remembrance, allowing her to feel every emotion she has ever felt in her life.
She wanted to beg, beg that nobody would wake her from this state, forever caught in the happiest moments of her life. But time kept rushing past, forcing her to move on with the seconds she’d never be able to live through again. Their orgasms were creeping closer, wrapping them up in its tight embrace, bound together for seconds on end.
“Cum with me, I got you, sweetheart.” (Y/n) came with a cry, she called out his name, threw her head back and allowed her body to live through the purest form of ecstasy. He followed her down the edge, imprinted himself on her walls as he came inside her tightness.
She had to blink a few times, having to calm down before she could find her strength again. And the second she found her way back to reality, she was able to pay attention to the loud thunder, the sound that broke through the barriers her mind had built. Tom pulled out of her with a hiss, but his eyes didn’t let go of her, not as he noticed the tears welling up in them, not as she redressed herself with shaking hands. She felt small, not able to properly breathe as the room started to close in on her.
“Who are you, Tom?” (Y/n) didn’t pay any attention to her slowing down heartbeat, didn’t pay any attention to the burning of her lungs, no longer able to grasp the air she was breathing. The brightness of lightning dancing across the sky momentarily alighted her dark kitchen, it was time.
“I think you know who I am, don’t you?” Tears of his own were glistening on his cheeks as he reached out his hand for her to take. There was no escaping, no way out for her and her young soul, but how she longed to experience more time with him by her side.
“Will it hurt?” Her voice trembled, not able to express the strength she so desperately wanted to feel. She was everything but strong in this very moment, everything but clear headed. A fog was rising in her mind, robbing her of anything she could use to guide her way out of the darkness, forcing her to follow Tom.
“It won’t, not as long as you trust me.” With a nod of her head she took a step closer and another, till she was standing in front of the man that stared at her with love swimming in his pupils.
“Take my hand, (y/n).”
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pagesoflauren · 3 years
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Money’s Worth - Harlan’s Firsts
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Summary: Harlan Jr. is reaching some important milestones, and Ransom is a little too excited about them.
A/N: The third of ten things I’ll be posting in response to requests for my Ten Year Anniversary on Tumblr! I got an overwhelming amount of people asking for dad Ransom and what it’s like when Harlan has his firsts, so here are some of them.
The Highest Bidder Masterlist
Money’s Worth Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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Smile
“Alright,” Ransom says, fastening the last strap of the diaper on his son’s bottom, “There ya go, buddy. You’re all cleaned up. Ready for action.”
Junior emits a few soft gurgles as Ransom bends down to put the baby wipes back where they belong beneath the changing table. When he straightens up, he sees his son’s eyes brighten as the corners of his mouth curl up in a toothless smile. 
It makes his heart feel light as he returns the smile, picking his son up. 
“Feelin’ happy?” he muses to the baby, settling him against his side. “Let’s bring some of that happiness to mommy, she’s been a little sad lately.” 
Returning to work was looming over your head, stressing both you and Ransom out as you prepare for him to be alone with his son for most of the day. Luckily, grandad Harlan was more than happy to let the men of your house visit his estate so that Ransom wouldn’t be completely alone.
“Darling, which leftovers do you want for lunch?” 
Junior coos at the sound of your voice, smiling again. 
“My little sun beam,” Ransom says quietly to him, kissing his cheek before calling to you, “D’we still got the pasta, sunshine?”
“Yeah, there’s plenty of that.” 
You’re taking the containers out of the fridge when they enter the kitchen, your face shifting from one of neutral concentration to excitement. “Is he smiling?”
“Yeah, look at that,” Ransom says, looking back at his son’s face. “He’ll be charming the ladies in no time.” 
“Nice priorities,” you deadpan before rushing to them. “He’s never smiled before! Was your first smile at mommy?” you coo, brushing a finger against his cheek.
“Ah, ah, no,” your husband protests, “His first smile was at me. He smiled when I changed him.”
It doesn’t seem to disappoint you, you’re excited all the same. “Ransom, that’s wonderful! Aww,” you pause, tearing up a bit. “He loves you so much.” 
Harlan Jr. hasn’t stopped smiling, eyes darting between both his parents as the two of you just watch him. 
When he first saw the little grin, Ransom didn’t think much of it. But now, knowing he had never smiled before today, he plays the image in his head over and over again, hoping he’ll never forget it. 
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Steps
Harlan had been able to stand for a few weeks now. It was exciting and both of you were waiting for him to walk at any moment. 
Ransom sat at his desk, keyboard clicking away beneath his fingertips as he furiously worked through a spur of inspiration. 
To his left, there’s a flash a movement and he turns, finding his son standing on wobbly legs as he comes towards his dad. When their eyes meet, he babbles.
Choked up, Ransom feels like his heart could explode out of his chest. “Whatcha doin’ buddy? You walking?” he asks, smiling so wide it almost hurts. 
Bending down when he is just a step away, he catches him as he stumbles forward, lifting him up. Harlan giggles and wiggles a little, smiling down at his father. 
Ransom closes his laptop and sets aside the novel for the day, spending time just sitting on the floor, watching Harlan crawl and walk around the house. 
You sigh as you come home, toeing off your shoes at the door. You go upstairs to unwind a bit before eating dinner, dressing down into your pajamas. Venturing downstairs feeling comfy, you find Ransom and Harlan at the table, the baby standing on your husband’s lap. 
“Hey! Sunshine, you’ll never believe this!” he exclaims, almost jumping up before he remembers his son is on his lap. “He walked! His first steps! And I’m so happy, but I’m sorry you weren’t here--” 
“No, no,” you wave your hand, taking a seat across from him. “It’s okay. I’m glad you got to see them.” 
“I-are you sure? I wish I had recorded it,” he sighs.
“Yes, I’m sure,” you smile, making a plate for yourself. “I’ve got two more opportunities to see one of my babies’ first steps.” 
Ransom continues to gush as you watch and listen, not having the heart to tell him Harlan had walked the night before with you as his only witness. 
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Word
With Harlan already walking, you knew it was only a matter of time before he began talking. 
You lounge on the play carpet in the den, the TV of soft din in the background, though you and Ransom aren’t watching. 
Junior sits up, playing with a talking and dancing puppy toy. Boxer, the actual puppy in the house, was occupied with his own toy, chewing and growling a bit. 
“You have two puppies, Harlan,” you point out. “Toy puppy,” you tap the green electronic plushy, “And real puppy.” You point to Boxer.
“Pupup.” 
You and Ransom freeze, eyes tacked to the baby. 
“What did you say?” you prod, “Puppy?”
“No,” your husband protests, “No! He’s saying ‘papa.’” 
“Pupup,” Harlan utters again, patting the toy on its head. “Pupup.” He points to the canine, who tilts his head in curiosity. 
“Harlan, what are you doing,” Ransom questions urgently, “Papa’s here. I’m up here on the couch. Harlan, Har--”
“Darling,” you laugh, shushing him. You reach over and pat his knee. “You got his first smile and first steps. Let Boxer have something.” 
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captainsimagines · 3 years
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Titanic || H.S
Part Three || “Harry”
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“I hear the states are quite bigger than just New York, dear...”
Warnings: This book contains mature themes and discussions, such as gun violence, emotional and physical abuse, attempted suicide, mentions of blood, character deaths, heavy sexual content, and reference to the real maritime disaster of the 1912 cruise liner Titanic.
     Mornings were as warm as freshly made bread and salted butter for Harry, inviting and comforting, with that perfect combination sitting on his tongue in absolute delight. He’d chow down happily as each morning customer ordered their regulars, his mother rushing from one side to the other as the orders came in. And once he swallowed his last piece, he rolled his sleeves up to pull yet another tray of bread that had been baking since the early morning hours. 
     The family bakery was located in a very crowded part of the city, where thousands walked by each day, good and bad, gossiping about anything and everything. And although Harry’s family bakery wasn’t the only one on the street, it was the one that received the most praise. With dough made with love and an end product that was easily pulled apart, Harry’s family bakery won first place in all good graces. 
     And with such precision in every bite and every cake decorated in such an exquisite manner that they were rated number one in The Times for attention to detail and amazing taste, the family bakery was ready to branch out. They had a plan to save as much money as they could - and although being loved by many and receiving great reviews - they had very little of that. Most of the money the family earned went to rent, new shoes, and ingredients. The plan involved the Styles Bakery becoming some sort of franchise, and since they had London’s attention, it was possible. 
     The Styles Bakery would extend through other parts of London, and ever since Harry’s grandparents moved to the states with his aunt and her children, America was added to the equation. 
     “Mum, could you get the bread out? My hands are full!” Harry called out, arms struggling to carry glass jars full of jelly. He carefully climbed the ladder on the wall and began stacking, looking over his shoulder to make sure his mother heard his request. She quickly came out from the back room, padding her hands against her apron, and proceeded to remove the bread. She placed it on the counter carefully, all the while watching her son as he balanced himself on the ladder. 
     “Quite busy, are we?” she asked, rushing over to hold the ladder under him. Harry placed the last of his jars on the shelves. 
     “We need to get this place ready for the photographer! We need those photos by tonight so I can bring them with me on the trip.”
     “I know, honey. And thank you for doing this, but I don’t want you to fall and get hurt just because you were in a rush,” she said, helping Harry as he climbed down. “We have more than enough time.” 
     “Time?” Harry said with a tiny laugh, “Grandad said that if we don’t get these plans and photographs to the landlord in two weeks time, then we have to search outside of New York.” 
     She smiled at him, “I hear the states are quite bigger than just New York, dear.”
     Harry rolled his eyes, retreated back to the stockroom, and grabbed even more full jars. But as he returned, he continued the conversation. “But it’s where all the business and people are!”
     But still, his mother laughed. “People exist outside urban areas as well.”
     Harry saw how his mother would continue to innocently twist his words for the better, and no matter how negative he seemed to speak, his mother always could sprinkle the positives inside. For a while longer, they stacked jars, rearranged chairs, and cleaned the windows while waiting for the photographer. Once he arrived, he set up and did the bakery justice. From just the angles alone, Harry could see that the photographs would come out perfectly. They paid him extra for such an expedited order, promised to pick them up early tomorrow morning, and closed up the bakery a little after two in the afternoon. 
     Harry quickly ventured out to the still-empty pubs around town, a small pack of cigarettes he usually kept hidden behind the sacks of flour in the stockroom now hidden in his coat pocket, and joined as many small poker games he could find. With such deserted pubs at this time of the day, the men were less rowdy and more sober. This way Harry could collect as much pocket change he could in time for his voyage. The time flew by as he hopped from one pub to another, but he was still determined to make some more cash. But as his eyelids began to droop and his mind narrowly missed the ‘full house’ he was holding, Harry won, wrapped it all up, and started home. 
      He wasn’t a heavy gambler but he was known to succeed in a few tournaments when his family desperately needed to make rent. With such a dangerous alternative, Harry and his sister hid the fact that they would apply for odd jobs outside of the general area they lived, bringing in money under their mother’s nose - anything to keep the family afloat.
     But after a few hours in the comfort of his home, he ventured out into the world once again. He traveled around his known parts of the city, a few blocks here and there, most alleyways, and greeted many people. Once his feet began feeling sore and the tips of his shoes stubbed his toes, he went into a pub for a quick drink. He enjoyed its taste, sort of salty and sweet at the same time. He ordered the same and decided to focus on his surroundings during each sip, watching every bartender and every customer walk to and from the bar. All he could think about while looking at everyone’s joyful faces was that tomorrow he would be waiting at the docks and boarding the grandest ship in the world. Perhaps he’d be lucky enough to taste the alcohol they were transporting and serving, but it was a long-shot thought. The third class most likely was not going to offer up the finest things, but it sure beat the streets of rat-infested London. But as Harry recalled his schooling and the little travelers who brought the plague, he settled for calling Titanic’s possible rats more upper-class than the ones below the bar he was currently lounging in. The simple third class ticket hidden safely away in his bedside drawer was a somewhat important telling, like it was something that represented a rise in Harry’s world. 
     He ordered his third drink, this time carefully watching a young couple across the room who shared the drink they just ordered. They laughed along with the piano player, hands intertwined, simultaneously tapping their thighs to the beat in unison. Such synchronization was therapeutic and Harry wondered how they met - if they knew they were right for each other, if they ever fought, how many children they had, or whether they were truly happy as their movements portrayed. All these unanswered questions did not need to have an answer for Harry to accept the wonder. 
     The sound of Harry’s sliding barstool startled the sleeping man next to him. Harry paid the bartender, gave the sleeping man a double pat on the shoulder, and left. He was only a few blocks away from home, but he decided to walk slower than usual. Tomorrow’s plan formulated itself and Harry didn’t have to think twice about it - he would wake up early, dress casual but clean, make sure his boots had their laces, and double-check his packing. And the one-way ticket would burn a hole in his pocket as he boarded, waving goodbye to his mother and sister who weren’t granted tickets themselves. They would wave sadly, tearing up slightly but just enough for Harry to see, and would come back home to run the bakery themselves for a few months. 
      It was worth the distance once Harry landed in America, for their entire lives would change. In America, Harry would buy that spot of land they had all been saving for over the last fifteen years. He would clean, build, anything he had to do as long as that spot of land showcased the first of a long chain of Styles Bakery’s. A bakery where Americans of all races, all religions, all everything and anything would get to savor the sweet taste of a busy London street.  
     Once he got home he wrapped himself up with three heavy blankets, drank a cup of tea, and rested his eyes for a moment. He was already giddy with joy, restless as to what awaited him tomorrow. The chance to step on American soil and the Titanic - all within a week - barely allowed Harry a wink of deep sleep. 
     The American dream wasn’t really what Harry strived for or wished to achieve, but he definitely thought it probable. He had the money, he had the determination, he had the contacts. But it was quite unsettling to think about the negative consequences of such a drastic move and not knowing if everything was going to fall into place. 
     Harry’s eyes began to feel heavier and heavier as his mind kept racing, but he knew one thing for sure. Whether his family’s dream was to be recognized and accomplished, it was luck and luck alone that would ultimately determine his new American fate. Harry breathed a heavy sigh and ducked his chin deeper into the blankets, neck slightly tilted and arms hugging his upper torso.
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i wanna know what love is - 18
Pairing: rockstar! sebastian stan x writer!reader
Warnings: sexual themes
A/N: fun fact i’ve been watching mad men all the time and normally it’s playing on the background when i’m writing so mary sometimes acts up like joan holloway. also the dress Y/N is wearing is Scarlet’s silver dress from the endgame premiere (dream dress).  i have some playlists for seb and y/n on spotify if any of you wanna see them lemme know xx 💕💕
Last Chapter // Next Chapter
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    - I’m sorry. Can you run that by me, again? - she wondered if she had taken too many pain killers and was now hallucinating. There was only a single explanation, hallucination. She was hallucinating. She either was hallucinating or he was about to overdose again. 
   - I like you, I wanna take you out for a date. - Sebastian didn’t know why he was shaking. He was thirty years old, he had already asked girls out a couple times, maybe more times than she had gone out on dates. Yet here he was, shaking as the idea of her saying no, or closing the door in front of him. 
   - We’re getting on a bus tomorrow. Unless you plan on taking me on a date from my bedroom to the kitchen. - she wondered why whenever she was nervous she only decided to be sarcastic but her mind figured this was the best thing to do. 
   - That’s why we’re going on a date tonight. - he had to tell himself not to stutter at the idea of going out with her. They had hanged out together outside the band setting but a date was a date. If Melody was right and she had dated a Vanderbilt she probably had gone to the Ritz for a date. - I mean you don’t have to. 
   - I’d love to. 
   - Alright, I’ll meet you in an hour by the lobby. - he said, rushing out of her bedroom to figure out if he had anything he could wear that didn’t look like he was about to enter a bike gang. Meanwhile, Y/N rushed out of her bedroom and into Mary’s room, barging in and coming face to face with the couple making out. Romance is never dead with these two. The red head lifted her head from Fred’s neck giving Y/N a very dirty look. 
   - I’m going on a date tonight and I need your help. - Y/N said quite fast which made Mary immediately let go of Fred, jumping onto her feet like a gymnast. Fred groaned, her head falling on top of the pillow. 
   - Get out. - Mary told her husband who groaned again, grabbing his pillow and blanket and walking out of the bedroom straight to the living room. If those two end up together, Fred was gonna remind himself to cock block the heck out of them for this.  - Wait, is he single? Are you becoming the other woman? 
   - No, he broke up with her. We’re going on a date right now and I don’t know what to wear for a date with him. 
   - Go naked. - she shrugged, making Y/N roll her eyes at her. She was stressing out, she had never been on a date with someone who wasn’t from her inner circle. Her first date had been in the country club with her parents watching from the pool and the last date she’d had was with her ex-boyfriend who took her to one of his fraternity party which was really a dinner for rich people who didn’t have a clue of the outside world. It wasn’t like Y/N could entertain Sebastian with facts about the economy, at least she thought she couldn’t. She’d read about rockstars thousand of times and had been with Sebastian alone another couple but this was a date. Do rockstars even go on dates? - You look nervous. 
   - I am. Should I take the Burberry dress? - she wondered, turning to the mirror and releasing her hair from her hair tie.
   - No, he already saw you in the Burberry dress. You need to have the surprise element, a bit of a nice naughty cut. - Mary went over to her wardrobe, going through her huge collection of dresses. Fred normally used to gift her with clothing and she also had quite a few cocktail dresses due to her job’s nature of dinners with clients and senior lawyers. Her eyes sparkled as she saw a particular strapless silver dress with a slit on her dress and a see through back. It was one of her personal favourites and also the one she had nicknamed her “Lucky Dress”. She figured Y/N needed a confidence boost and a bit of luck. She grabbed it from the dresser and handed it to her. - Shoulders, thigh, back. The wonderful trifecta that will certainly get you a free drink and when used right a nice night of fun. 
   - Don’t you think it’s too much? - she wondered, placing the dress in front of her. - Maybe it’s a bit too much.
   - Well, that’s what you’re taking. Now go put it on and listen to “Pour Some Sugar on Me” to get more confidence. 
Y/N got into the bathroom they had in their bedroom and started to take off her clothes. As she was about to put it on she noticed a bottle of rose scented lotion, one of her favourites. She decided Mary wouldn’t notice if some was missing and put some on before getting into the dress and zipping it up. It fit like a glove and it looked like she was about to walk a red carpet. She walked back into the bedroom to see the redhead holding a curling iron and a makeup caboddle that looked eerily similar to one she used to have when she was younger. 
   - You’re more excited for a date than I am. - she sat by Mary’s vanity as she started to curl and pin curl her hair. - What do I even talk about?
  - What do you guys normally talk about? - she questioned, bobby pin stuck in the middle of her lips as she tried her best to achieve the perfect curl. - It’s just a date, Y/N. Act like you alway do.
  - What if he only liked me because he was with someone else?
  - Alright, Y/N. Listen to me ... - she twirled the chair, making Y/N stare at her as she began applying makeup. - He liked you way before that so you have to start having some confidence. 
  - Do you reckon he’ll find interesting when I start rambling about the stock market? - Mary rolled her eyes as she finished putting some lipstick on her before turning her back to the mirror. Y/N was still nervous as she walked to the room to get her shoes and purse. She took a long look in the mirror, taking a deep breathe in and a deep breathe out. She could do this, it was just a date. Y/N breathed in and out again before opening the door to her bedroom and walking up to the lobby were a very well dressed Sebastian was standing. 
He was wearing a pair of black denim trousers and white crisp buttoned up white shirt. She didn’t even think he had a pair of trousers that didn’t have rips on it but here it was and she was impressed. As for him he couldn’t help but stare at her, he knew the dress was Mary’s he’d heard Fred mention it quite a few times but he’d never imagined he’d see it on her. She looked breath taking beautiful.
  - You’re stunning. - was the only thing he could say.
  - Nice shirt. - she smiled as he opened the door for her leading her onto the lift. 
  - It’s the most varsity outfit I have. I don’t even think half this stuff is mine. - he laughed, looking down at himself. - I know Vegas isn’t the most romantic setting for a date but ...
  - I’m with you, the setting is irrelevant. Besides, my first date was in a country club and my dad was watching it from the pool.
  - Country club? Just how rich are you. - he asked as they walked into the restaurant. They got sat at one of the most private tables so photographers wouldn’t be all over them. He didn’t want bottom feeders putting her photo on the paper and blaming her writing opportunity by being with him.
  - We’re comfortable. - she shrugged. 
  - That’s exactly what a super rich person would say. If you have the money, why do you live in a studio flat in NY? Should you be living in a mansion on the Upper East Side?
  - It’s my parents money not mine. Besides, if you start at the top, you don’t get the thril of climbing up and having pasta with pasta for the twelfth time in the week.
  - I miss that. - he smiled, taking a sip out of the red wine that had been recently poured in his glass. He wasn’t the biggest fan of wine but he also didn’t want to get drunk during his first date with her. - I used to live with the boys when he first started out. 
  - How did you discover you wanted to be a musician? - she was sure she’d asked him that before, but he had never given her an actual real reply. 
  - My dad used to have this guitar when I was younger, a Yamaha A Series A3M. He never really let me near it, I was a clumsy kid. Then my parents separated, my mum moved into the US. One day, I was walking down the street and I saw a very worn out sort of broken Yamaha A Series A3M on the window of his charity shop. Got a job down the road at a kebab shop until I could buy it, smelled like frying oil for a month. - he laughed. - But I got it and once I got to play it, I realised that was all I wanted to do. 
 - That’s so sweet. - Y/N gave him that type of smile that made the world stop in his eyes. - Do you still have it?
 - No, I had to sell it when my mum lost her job but it was a great guitar. I miss it dearly. What about you, why are you doing writing? 
 - My family has been on the business for ages. My great grandad used to work for the New Yorker, I remember him showing me and my brother the article he framed in his office. He always had this sparkle in his eyes whenever he spoke of it. It just made me want to do something that gave me that same type of sparkle. It’s always been a dream of mine to have my article on the front page of the New Yorker, just like him. 
 - Why aren’t you writing for the New Yorker then? I’m sure they have an internship plan besides ... you’re very smart. You went to an Ivy league. 
 - You only get in the internship plan if you have contacts in the journal or if you’re sleeping with someone in the board. - she laughed. - Maybe one day. 
 - I’m sure you’re gonna get it. After all, you’re writing about yours truly. Nothing more exciting 
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midnightwitch92 · 3 years
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Chapter 20 | The black goat of the woods | Clary Frey
I've been having these awful nightmares since we went to pandemonium. I wake in this strange, dark house that I've never seen before. Outside the rain continued lashing down as the great black storm raged on. The thunder and lightning giving me only a moment to see that I was back in the enormous living room next to the open kitchen. It's filled with things from my family. My grandmother's mirror hung over the dimly lit fireplace, grandad's old clock, my mother's ornamental candles and our all old furniture from when I was younger. It was all so familiar yet I felt no comfort or desire to stay, especially when I couldn't stop looking towards the glass doors to the forest outside. They were always locked in my dreams and this time was no different as I turned the handle, trying again. There was something about knowing I couldn't go outside but also that there was something there, someone looking back at me from the darkness. Last time I swore I saw eyes looking out from behind the trees. Not this time. I didn't know if I should feel better or worse. With the next flash of Lightning, I lit another of my mother's candles on the fireplace along with the others on the mantle under my grandmother's mirror. I saw that this one had yellow butterflies painted on it. I just hoped that the other candles were still where I left them as I walked towards the staircase. During my previous dreams of the house, I'd taken a different candle to each room.
The house was genuinely massive with its extravagant layout and large windows that seemed to make up most of the house, giving a stunning view of the surrounding forest, which didn't help the thought that I was being watched. I tried the light switch again to no avail. As I climbed the stairs a chilling image of those eye's watching me from the forest crept into my mind. The killers from Pandemonium, I thought to myself. The one that looked me straight in the eye. There was no way to not be seen in this glasshouse. They would know every move I made, see everything I did. The painting on the two flights of stairs leading to the top floor didn't help either. It was a large college of animals consisting of a snake, a great winged Condor, a black cat, a big spider, a swollen fat hog and at the centre was a vicious-looking black goat. It was certainly not one of my mother's pieces. Too dark and grim looking.
As I reached the top of the stairs I saw the door at end of the hall was wide open. I hadn't been in there yet. Making my way towards the door, I started looking around for the green Dragonfly candle I left behind last time. Luckily it was still on the shelf. I quickly lit it with the butterfly candle, not caring if anyone really was watching me. I'd rather risk having light and see where I'm going than be stumbling around in the darkness. As both candles illuminated the hallway, more pictures appeared from the shadows. Even the normal pictures look like they're fucking possessed. I thought to myself as I moved towards the door, the eyes of each portrait appearing to watch my every step. And then I saw it. The painting of my father in his military uniform. He died long before I was born. He looked so proud and strong in the painting. I'd give anything to have him here right now, protecting me.
I didn't have long to look at my father as a small creaking noise coming from down the hall drew my attention. After a moment another crash of thunder and lightning illuminated the hallway revealing a scruffy disfigured man in a trenchcoat at the window between the open door and another room. Without thinking I thinking I bolted to the stairs before turning back towards the man with my candle raised to defend myself. As if it would help, but luckily he hadn't moved fast or that far from the window.
"Who are you?" I demanded, trying not to trip as I carefully backed towards the stairs. For a moment he stood smiling at me with mouth full missing and misshapen teeth. His gleeful expression was almost childlike. As he slowly stepped forward his bulging eyes that appeared too big for their sockets followed me as I took hold of the bannister and slowly edged my foot down a step.
"Don't be afraid, I know you. Tip tap over the bridge. Blood in blood out." He giggled. His lispy voice was as odd and offputting as the rest of his features. He walked closer towards the candlelight. I nearly fell backwards as the light revealed that his eyes and teeth were not his only abnormal features. His skin hung so loosely about his face, neck and hands as if it were a suit that didn't quite fit him.
"Stay back. Don't come any closer." I turned and made my way down the first set of stairs. When I turned to look up at him he was standing at the top of the stairs. He's a raving lunatic. I thought to myself as I inched toward the second set of stairs. Keeping my eyes on him at all times.
"I know what you are, little goat. My master tells me about you. Fed you your fill of the dark, burning fields inside her." He took a step down the stairs and forgetting that my foot was only inches away from the steps, I panicked and tried to run. With one slip of my foot, I clattered to the bottom of the stairs with a painful bang. Another flash of lightning lit up the room but didn't fade away this time.
I raised my head from the floor to see that it was daylight outside the window and saw that I was now back in my bedroom. Exhausted, I got to my feet and pushed my window open to get some fresh air. How long had I been asleep? Why am I so tired? I thought to myself as I brushed my hair from my face. All I could think about was climbing back into my bed until I looked at my hands. They were caked in chalk. So were my pyjamas as I looked down and saw smudges of colour all over me. Where did it all come from?
Turning away from my window, I was hit with an overwhelming wave of fear. My room was covered in drawings of that symbol. Dozens plastered across my walls, piles of them on my bed and the floor. Every sheet had that same cubist looking rabbit symbol, although now it made me think of that big black goat in the painting. I can't let Mum see. Oh god, crazy arent I. I thought as I frantically ripped page after page from the walls, fighting the urge to faint. Did I do this? I don't remember doing this. Oh god. I pulled out my bag and shoved as many of the pages in as I could before piling the rest under my bed. By the time I was done my hands were shaking and covered in paper cuts.
I quickly threw on the clothes I dumped on my bedroom floor. Grabbing my bag I ran down the stairs and grabbed my jacket. I had to get out of the house. I had to think. I could let mum see me like this.
"Where are you going?" Mum called out as was reaching for the door handle. I nearly vomited as it felt like my heart jumped into my throat.
"Out. I won't be very long." I said trying to keep it together as she grabbed my arm and pulled me round to face her.
"You didn't sleep at all last night, did you? You look exhausted." She said, brushing my hair from my face. I noticed then that she looked as worn out as I did. "Anyway, never mind all that. There's something very important we need to talk about." She urged, trying to pull me towards the kitchen, but I pulled away from her.
"Not now," I said as I swung the front door open and kept walking. "I'm sorry Mum but I have to meet Simon," I called out to her. I know I was being a bitch but I just had to get out of there. I had to clear my head.
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whiro-sh · 4 years
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I don't want to keep going if it's not with you~
So basically I had this idea for a one shot and I thought, why not share it? I don't know if you'll like it but I had fun imagining and writing it so here you go !
Tw self-harm/ suicidal thoughts
>angst with a happy ending
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Summary: The Doctor finally come back to Sheffield after escaping the Judoon prison. It has been six hard months for Yaz, will the Doctor be too late to save her favorite companion ?
(angst with a happy ending, cause I'm a sucker for a happy ending)
It had been six months, six months that the Doctor sent them back to earth. Forced to go back for their own safety. Yaz knew that, Graham and Ryan told her enough. She knew the Doctor just wanted to protect them. The boys had understood it and accepted it and if at first it was hard to go back to normal life, after a month or so they seemed to be okay. They were still missing their amazing alien friend of course but they had moved on. Graham had started seeing other friends more often and Ryan started dating Sonya.
The only one who hadn't moved on - who didn't want to - was Yaz. She had tried at first, truly tried. She went out with some friends, got a promotion at work and even tried having a date with someone but it didn't work out. Truth was Yaz was not accepting this situation, she couldn't forget the Doctor and the life she had with her, she couldn't imagine that the Doctor really died that day on Gallifrey. She had constantly this hope of hearing the engines' noise of her favorite spaceship, of seeing a blue box parked in front of her flat. She dreamt countless time of the Doctor coming back and each time waking up was awfully painful. The harsh reality was painful.
As weeks passed she slept less and less at night, not wanting to see the familiar face of the blond in her dreams. She focused on her job to forget how she hated being stuck on earth, not knowing if the Doctor was still out there or not. Her family did see at first that Yaz wasn't well but soon she learnt to hide the bags under her eyes and the trace of a night spent crying silently under her makeup . She began to live in a lie, putting a great amount of effort to hide how broken she was.
One night worst than the others, she cut herself on her right wrist to ease her pain. She hadn't done that since highschool but right here and right now she felt relief in the pain. So she did it again and again, taking care to hide it well too. Yaz knew she couldn't keep up like that, she needed help but who could understand her ? They would force her to stop if they found out. Yaz didn't want to stop, this was the only thing helping her to cope.
Graham was in his room when he heard the familiar sound of the TARDIS in his living room. It had been so long that he first thought that he dreamt it but when he saw the blond coming out of the blue box he realised all this was real. The Doctor was there, smiling shyly at him. She looked skinnier than the last time he'd seen her, her hair had grown too. She seemed fine though a bit tired.
'Hey' said the woman timidly
For only response she received a hug from the old man.
'I thought we'd never see ya again doc !'
She froze for a moment she'd forgot what it was to feel someone against you. It was soothing, reassuring.
'Are you okay ?? What happened !'
'Long story but I'm fine had a little nap of 2 or 3 days in the TARDIS and a good meal.' her smile grew wider as she felt more comfortable. 'Where are the others ? How much time as it been ? I hope they are okay, how is Yaz ?'
Graham smiled at all those questions, he'd really missed this crazy woman.
'Six months only' he said but could see the worries on the Doctor's face. 'Ryan is fine, Yaz is... Coping in her own way, I haven't heard a lot from her recently'
The Doctor could remember like it was yesterday the girl's face when she left her. It had broken her hearts but she had to leave, she had to save her fam even if that meant dying for it.
The sound of a door opening interrupted the duo.
'Grandad we have to go, Sonya just-' he stopped abruptly when he saw the Doctor. 'Oh my god, no way !'
'Hi Ryan' said the Doctor amused by Ryan's surprise. The boy instantly gave the woman a big hug just as did Graham a few minutes before.
'I'm so happy your alive doctor !'
'Glad to see you too.' she answer truly happy. 'Yaz isn't with ya ? I missed her, I'd love to see her'
Ryan's smile disappeared as he suddenly remembered why he was here.
'Sonya just called me, Yaz is in the hospital...'
'What ? What happened son ?!'
'Apparently she collapsed while on duty and was very pale so they decided to call an ambulance.'
A few minutes later all three of them where in the hall of the hospital. Nadja was there too, she'd just finished her conversation with a doctor.
'Nadja !' called Graham.
The woman turn to them and was very surprised to discover the Doctor by the boys' side. She wanted to ask her where she was during all those months but right now she was more preoccupied by what she had learnt from her daughter's doctor.
'Is she okay ?' asked Ryan.
'They said she collapsed because she was weak and tired, I knew she wasn't sleeping well but I never imagined it was so serious...'
'She going to be okay...' tried to reassure Graham
'That's not... That's not all. She also has marks on her wrists and thighs. How could I not see them ? He said judging from the cuts that she had been doing that to herself for a few weeks now.'
The Doctor felt a rush of culpability and sadness, Yaz's state was her fault and she knew it. She had hoped the girl would move on from her, build her life but it appeared to be quite the contrary. Yaz's was drowning, what would have happened if she didn't come back ?
'We saw nothing either Nadja but we're gonna help her now, everything will be alright' said Graham.
'Can we see her ?' ask the Doctor, she felt the urge to see the brunette with her own eyes and be with her.
'She's sleeping, the doctor said we can visit her tomorrow.'
The Doctor wanted to insist but knew it was useless, she would have to wait and she hated that. Her brilliant, amazing Yaz in such a poor shape because of her. The blond hated herself for not escaping sooner. Yaz kept her alive and gave her a motivation to get out when she was in the judoon prison, now she needed to save and protect her.
The boys went home for the night, the Doctor parked her TARDIS in a street nearby the hospital ready in the morning to run back and find the girl she had dreamt of for months. It was around 1 am when she received a call from Nadja.
'Doctor I need your help ! It's Yaz, she ran away from the hospital, no one knows where she is !'
The Doctor didn't wait a second, she ran a scan of the area for trace of artron energy. Yes it had been six months since Yaz had travelled in a time machine but she should still have some trace left on her. Indeed she found out that the girl was only a few box away from the TARDIS position. The blond stormed out of her ship and ran as fast as she could.
She finally saw the brunette, she was in the middle of an empty street only wearing her hospital gown. She seemed lost and scared like a little girl, looking frantically around her like something was chasing her.
'Go on kill me you stupid machines !' she yelled.
The Doctor wasn't sure who the girl meant by machines but decide to slowly come closer, hands up to show she wasn't a threat.
'Yaz.' the girl froze
'No... No it can't be... It can't be you !' the brunette wasn't trusting her own eyes. If the Doctor was her it must meant that she was dreaming. The blond took a new step toward her.
'Hey Yaz, it's okay I promise..'
Yaz took a step back.
'No ! You said that the last time, but you disappeared, you left me like you always do ! I wake up and you're not here' she said now sobbing.
This broke the Doctor's hearts.
'Oh Yaz, my beautiful Yasmin Khan, what did I do to you.'
'The Cybermen I heard them, they are coming.'
'What do you mean ? Is that why you ran from the hospital ?' the Doctor asked taking her sonic to scan the area. No trace of any alien species. No Cybermen. 'Yaz it's okay, what you heard must of been some machines in other rooms next to yours. You're safe I swear.'
'How are you really here... You're DEAD ! You're-You're...' she cried harder falling on knees. She was exhausted, body trembling in this cold night.
The blond came closer and fell next to Yaz and she noticed the bandages around the girl's wrists. She was so angry at herself for letting that happen. She pulled Yaz in a tight hug.
'I'm so sorry Yaz, so sorry. I'm real I promise. I'll be here tomorrow when you'll wake up, I want to be by your side and never leave you again.'
This felt real thought Yaz, she wanted to believe this was real. Tomorrow she'd be sad again but for now she just enjoyed the warm embrace.
The Doctor took out her coat and put it on Yaz shoulders, she also noticed the girl was barefoot and decided to scoop her in her arms.
'It's okay now...' whispered the Doctor.
'I miss you so much... I love you Doctor.' the brunette whispered back before falling unconscious.
Yaz woke up the next morning in her hospital room. The first thing she felt was sadness as she opened her eyes to see the bedside empty. That's why she didn't like to sleep but before her thoughts could go farther she heard a familiar voice.
'Hey you...'
The brunette turn her head and saw the Doctor.
'So it was real...' she said softly, genuinely smiling for the first time in months.
'Pretty much yeah...'
'You've come back, you're here.' the girl stroke the Doctor cheek gently like to make sure the woman wasn't an illusion.
'I'm here Yaz and I love you too.' said the Doctor gently but serious.
Yaz's smile grew wider and she did what she didn't that day in the TARDIS just before the blond left her and the other humans. Yaz leaned forward and kissed the Doctor.
They didn't hear Graham, Nadja and Ryan enter the room.
'Seems like things should alright for those two now' said Graham glad and relieved.
The End
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sbforest · 4 years
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A Christmas Seagull - Chapter One
A cold wind blew through the streets of Seaville as the sun dipped below the horizon. The streetlamps blanketed the colourful houses on the street with their gentle orange glow. Each house was as short and perfectly symmetrical as the next house, with a perfect little rectangular garden out front and a small cobbled path leading to the front door. The only difference that could be seen was each house on the street was made of a different colour brick and had a different coloured front door.
For example, Mr and Mrs Badger had a luminous yellow brick house with a vibrant green front door. Stephanie the Snail and her family had a dark brown brick house, the colour of your favourite chocolate bar and a brilliant red front door. And old Mr Owl lived quietly in his grey brick house and his black as night front door.
Julio, a young seagull stood at his window in his short, but perfectly symmetrical house with its bright red bricks and navy-blue front door. His white feathers were not all in yet, with some grey patches remaining from when he was a baby. He stared out at the street as Mr Mole plodded up the road with his little round glasses steaming up with each heavy breath towards his orange house and silver front door. Julio tapped on the glass of his window and waved as Mr Mole looked up to see him. Mr Mole waved back with his paws brimming with books.
Mr Mole with his short black fur and a bright pink was one of Julio’s favourite people. You see, Julio spent as much time as possible in the library If he was not in school or helping his parents at home doing by doing his chores, he was in the library reading. The reason for this was that Julio loved books.
He loved all kinds of books. Books about history, books about geography and even books about maths! But most of all he like books about mysteries, particularly The Otter Twins saga. The Otter Twins would spend each book being faced with a problem, but through their wit and cunning they would always solve the issue at hand and save the day. When Julio slept, he had a copy of his favourite Otter Twins novel tucked under his pillow and it would fill his dreams with adventure and mystery.
As he continued to watch the world outside there was a gentle tap at his door and his mum poked her head in.
“Time for bed sweetheart” she said gently.
Julio turned around to look at her and he smiled. She had been painting again. Mrs Gull was famous all over Seaville for her landscape paintings. She would paint pictures of the golden beach with its bright blue waves turning to white as they crash along the shore. She painted Ms Goose’s fields, once in each season to catch the changing view. Anywhere they went she would carry her paintbrushes and little canvasses about so that she would never miss an opportunity should one arise.
Julio knew she had been painting because she was still wearing her apron, dotted with years’ and years’ worth of old paint, and her beak had some green in it.
“What have you been painting mum?” Julio asked.
“I’m just finishing off granny and grandad’s Christmas present before we leave tomorrow” She replied.
“Can I see it?”
Mrs Gull looked at Julio and said,
“Only if you promise to go right to sleep afterwards”
“Of course, mum”
Julio grinned as Mrs Gull turned her back and walked down the corridor to her art studio. He could hear her shuffling about as he perched himself on the edge of his bed. When she returned, she had the painting in her wings.
“Do you like it?” She asked.
“Like it?”
Julio stared at the canvas that depicted their house, in all its beautiful bright red glory. It had their pristine front garden, with the rose bushes growing out at all angles, just how Mr Gull liked it. And there, just outside their front gate stood Julio, his mum, dad and even his baby sister Silvia, although she was being held by Mr Gull.
“Like it?” Julio said again “I love it! And granny and grandad will love it too I’m sure of it.”
Mrs Gull put the painting down and flew into Julio’s room. She flew right up to his bed and give him a big kiss right on the head.
“Thank you dear” she said with joy in her voice. She was at her happiest when she could show off her art.
“Now…” Mrs Gull began to say.
 ----------
 SPLASH!
They both got up and flew towards the sound. It came from the bathroom.
Charging through the door Julio and his mum saw what had made the sound. Mr Gull was sitting, soaked through, in the bathtub with baby Silvia giggling and gargling. She slapped her little grey wings in the water as her dad picked up his dripping wet glasses and tried to get himself out of the bath.
He kept slipping and sliding, with Silvia and now Julio laughing hysterically. Julio was rolling around on the floor, clutching onto his tummy from laughing to hard.
Mrs Gull sighed and said,
“Come on dear, lets get you out of that bath”
Wrapping her wing around Mr Gull she helped him up and out of the bath.
“Thank you love” He said, kissing her on the cheek with his wet beak.
“Let’s get you dried off” She replied, wiping her cheek to remove the damp spot left by the kiss.
Out Mr and Mrs Gull went from the bathroom, to get Mr Gull dried off before bedtime. Julio picked himself off the floor, still giggling and wiping the tears from his eyes. He looked at his baby sister.
“I guess it’s my job to get you ready for bed”
She gargled and splashed again.
“Enough of that now Silvia, you’re coming with me”
And with that he scooped her up and plonked her down on a towel left by the sink. He wrapped to towel around Silvia and vigorously rubbed it all over until she was dry as the desert. Her little grey feathers had fluffed up so much she looked like a ball!
He picked her up and took her to her bedroom, gently placing her in her cot.
“Goodnight Silvia” he said, kissing her on the forehead as she garbled a response.
 ----------
 Back in his room he placed The Otter Twins Strike Gold under his pillow and pulled his duvet right up under his chin.
Mrs Gull and Mr Gull, now dried with a towel wrapped around his head, peaked their heads round Julio’s door.
“Goodnight” they said in unison.
“Goodnight mum, goodnight dad”
They both blew him a kiss which he caught and as they left, they turned his bedroom light off.
Within minutes Julio was asleep, dreaming of finding the deep dark gold mine with the Otter Twins beside him as snow began to drift to the ground outside.
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skeletal-kitt · 5 years
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So we know a lot about Keith and the other paladins backrounds, but not as much about Shiro’s. Here are some Shiro background headcannons. There is some cannon time period Shadam in this but the endgame will be Sheith. No Curtis Whatshisname in sight.
Mostly raised by his grandfather who he called Pawaw. (No I’m totally not projecting my own grandad because I miss him). His parents were in high school when they had him. He doesn’t remember his dad because when he was 2 his dad just left, his only excuse being he wasn’t ready for a kid.
He barely remembers his mom, she had the same muscle disease he had and she died when he was 5.. But Pawaw was always there for him. So was grandma Mimi but she died from a heart attack when he was 7.
He grew up in Minnesota, liked playing ice hockey and figurscating and other ice sports. Loved playing in the snow, making igloos and snowmen and snow angels and snowball fights. At least when he wasn’t sick or in the hospital or during treatments.
He’d always been fascinated with space, ever since that basic second grade astronomy class, he was eager to learn more. Read every astronomy or astrology or anything about astronauts or space/air craft book he could get his hands on.
Pawpaw supported him about being an astronaut when he was younger but he was sure as he grew up Shiro would pick a more sensible career, something at least physically possible considering his condition. But nope Shiro continued with the astronaut fantasy.
It broke both their hearts when Pawpaw told Shiro he couldn’t be an astronaut. Shiro was 14 just about to start high school. Shiro wouldn’t take no for an answer, insisted he always destined to see the stars. Pawpaw just wanted to protect him from getting hurt. Shiro argued back that he could protect himself just fine.
Shiro learned how to manage his disability better, doing those daily timed exercises, keeping himself healthy. The more time went on the more progress he made. Pawpaw was surprised but very proud of him. Maybe his son-er grandson-could follow his dreams and be an astronaut after all.
When Shiros 16 right before his junior year of high school, Pawpaw finally agrees to fly to Texas with him to try out the Garrison simulator, and if things go well apply to the boarding school. Shiro’s flying ability reaches off the charts and he breaks most of the simulation’s records.
They go back home to Minnesota for a couple more weeks to bond before Shiro has to pack up and leave for good. They know they’ll see each other again next summer but it feels like letting go. Shiro’s following his dreams and going places, Pawpaw’s watching his son-ehem grandson sorry-leave the nest and fly off on his own.
Shiro became particularly fond of one of the younger teachers, Adam. They got along well together, in a mentor/mentee sort of way. Shiro graduated the primary cadet training with flying colors and continued his studies. The more time passed Adam became less of a mentor and more of a friend. They were equals now, both adults, same rank, working together.
The more time Shiro and Adam spend working together the closer they get. Eventually they can’t deny they’re feelings for each other anymore and start going out. Shiro feels on top of the world like nothing can bring him down. Everything is going right in his life for once. He tries calling Pawpaw a few times to tell him but he never answered. Shiro figures he’s just busy and he’d call again in the morning.
So of course when Shiro gets an invite to his grandpas funeral instead of a phone call-who he didn’t even know was dead, didn’t even know something was wrong-he was a absolutely devastated. Adam being the great boyfreind that he is offered to accompany Shiro back to Minnesota, so he wouldn’t be alone.
Shiro doesn’t remember much about going home or attending the funeral. It feels unreal, like a bad dream that he’s about to wake up from any second. His only solace is Adam comforting him from time to time. Adam is if the only thing keeping him sane.
It takes Shiro a couple months to fully process this. Pawpaw’s gone. He’s really gone. He’d always seemed so indistructable, immortal. Shiro couldn’t comprehend that he could just simply die from natural causes, the circle of life. The guilt almost crushed him. The guilt of not realizing something was wrong, the guilt of not being able to do anything to help, the guilt of not even saying goodbye almost crushed him.
But he couldn’t afford to be crushed. He had responsibilities. He had to be completely focused on his studies, flying, training, keeping himself in top shape, spending his well deserved breaks with Adam. Working was the number one thing to keep him distracted. And spending time with Adam of course.
A year later they put Shiro in charge of chaperoning a simulation at a local high school. One kid-Shiro later learned his name was Keith-made it all the way to level 15, which had never been done by any other cadet student. Keith broke every record. EVERY record, even the ones that had currently belonged to Shiro. He didn’t know how Keith could even focus with the gaggle of classmates chattering around him, some cheering him on, others berating him or complaining that he was taking too long and it was their turn.
Shiro asked the teacher what Keith’s name is and if he would be interested in applying to the Garrison. Teacher said Shiro should forget about that one, he’s a very troubled foster home kid. Shiro kept trying to convince her of the potential of he saw in Keith but she didn’t listen. Teacher kept insisting Keith was juvinial delinquent devil spawn.
As soon as she was done saying that, Shiros Jeep started up and drove off. The kids were all saying it was Keith, who was nowhere in sight. They were just about to call the police and report Shiros car stolen when it came around the corner, all the windows down, radio blasting My Neck My Back by Khia for the whole world to hear. Shiro was simultaneously mortified and amused. The kids were either shacking their heads in disapproval, or cracking up and dancing with the music.
Keith parked the car and sauntered out with a McDonald’s bag. The teacher exploded, screaming about detention possibly suspension and ruining the schools reputation. And Keith is like Chill I just went to get my lunch the car is fine and tossed the keys to Shiro who was having a hard time not cracking up. Keith went to eat a good distance away from the other kids having lunch
This has been in my drafts for like a week and I don’t know what else to do with it so. This is what it is for now. Anyone is welcome to add on to this.
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Sincerely Me
So, I needed an outlet. And, whatever kind of stick Tumblr gets, it’s free. And I’m a broke student, that’s my aesthetic this decade. I’m not writing this for anyone but my own buzzing, confused, boiling over thoughts. Cause if I don’t lay it all out here, then it’ll come out in some other form and that generally leads to me ugly cry at 3 am after isolating myself even more than I already have. 
I’m not expecting anyone to read this. I don’t know if I do. There’s probably a way I could private this. But maybe I do want someone to read this. Maybe I’m desperate for some form of attention. Wow, I am really painting myself as a solid person right now. Right now, the general feeling inhabiting me is I want people there and yet, I want isolation. It’s like, I want to know they’re there if I need them but I want my solitude as well. I think I’ve been that way since I was a kid. I couldn’t sleep if I knew everyone else in the house was asleep before me. I’m not sure where that irrational fear came from but it was just one on a list. 
That’s not to say I didn’t have a happy childhood. I’m getting nostalgic these for it. Or for the lack of thinking and lack of responsibility as well. It’s all on me now. Or it feels that way. I don’t have someone reliable I can fall back on if it all blows up in my face. I’ve imagined myself in an Alice in Wonderland scenario, when she initially falls down the rabbit hole and is just falling and falling. Except she slows down. I feel like I’m speeding up. I see all these ledges and every person who had some key aspect in my life, some adult I was suppose to rely on, family members, friends, they all stand there. And each time my trust with them is shattered, they vanish. I can’t hold onto any ledge for long, the pull to fall is too great. Sometimes they unpick my fingers to send me falling again. Sometimes there just isn’t room on the ledge for me.
I feel like everyone has that person in their life. That solid, dependable person you know has your back and genuinely cares about you and cares about your well being. Unconditional love. I don’t have that anymore I fear. Got no parents, so not getting it that way. Only knew my moms family and they all have their own issues and they���re all basically strangers. My mom made sure to distance herself and me and my sister from them. A lot of people in that family are toxic and I honestly am not sure I want them in my life. Which in turn causes me to feel like crap because they’re family. I’m suppose to love them. But I’m as much a stranger to them as they are to me. I have grandparents. They love me. They love the version I present to them. Well, my grandad knows me a bit better then my grandma. At least he calls me Lance. And we have a similar sense of humor. But I worry he’s losing his memory. And to be honest, he’s a bit intimidating. It was me, him and Mom for a while. I appreciate that time we had together. I do love him. And am terrified of losing him too. 
Grandma, I was kind of always her main grandchild. Purely because my sister grew up, she wasn’t allowed see some of her grandkids or they lived too far away. And you know, I loved it as a kid. I loved being her main grandkid. I’m not saying she loved me more, no way, we just saw each other more. She has a big heart and I know she loves all her grandkids and children with all of it. I was just the one she had the most exposure to. And as a kid, it worked. Sure, she was always trying to convert me to her religion but Mom blocked that off. It’s more awkward now when I’m twenty and she’s still going on about it and, now that I’ve been educated and have more experience, don’t always agree with her. I admire her faith. I’m curious about it. Because I have no experience with it myself. But I don’t want to either. Growing up without any kind of faith or religion or beliefs, in some ways, I missed out. But I also think it left me open to the ideas of others and wanting to understand everyone. 
My grandma loves me, I know. But she knows less and less about me. Who I am. Even my name. I’m terrified of losing her if she saw me for me, because it could conflict with her faith. And if she had to turn her back, I don’t know what I’d do. 
I have a sister. But like just about every other family member, we’re distant. I mean, she’s six years older, so growing up there was that. And when she moved out, it was harder to maintain the relationship. And I know now, just how much she was dealing with herself. I knew nothing of it because I was the youngest and no thought me able to handle that sort of thing. I mean, I think at one point in my life I wouldn’t have been able to. But seeing your mother slowly die before you really matures you. 
Was that too dark? I’ve been told I can be rather dark. I think I’ve just grown more blunt. I know how awful this world is. How painful and bloody and disgusting and twisted it can be. No point in throwing handful glitter at it and smiling to make other’s feel comfortable. But I don’t want to ruin a positive outlook either. I admire those who can have one on life. I think I use to have one. Hope. Eagerness to live life. I had faith in my abilities and that I could live the life I wanted. Now, I don’t even know what I want anymore. I remember being a little kid and loving to tell stories. First in pictures, then in words when I could write. And my mom encouraged that. She was the only one who had faith I could make it as an author. Encouraged me. My aunts told me to get realistic and be an nurse or teacher. The one time I saw them in about five years, that’s what they had to say to me. Charming. It’s funny as a kid, anyone can be anything. And then you go to college and it’s all about making money. And I’m not discounting money, money is amazing, get to buy all my hoodies and books and Reeses Candy Cane Swirl kisses with money. It pays for my Netflix. Pay for the roof over my head and food in my-okay it pays for my take out. When I can afford it. If not, it’s Dealz microwave popcorn for dinner. But when did wanting the best future for someone add up to crushing their dreams and being a soul crushing asshole?
To be honest, I haven’t written anything proper since my mom died. I think that dream died with her. I kinda feel like I’m floating through college. I totally have a plan, that’s what I tell people. But nothing is said with certainty. Nothing with passion or excitement. Nothing I want to dedicate myself to. I go to college because it will stop the people who like to nose into my life from fretting and yeah, it has some positive aspects to it. I do enjoy learning. I’ve just lost my drive. 
And I’m so angry at people all the time. Old foster parents, ex friends, college mates, current friends, adults. Even though I am an adult, I don’t think I’ll ever stop seeing those people as the Adults. And I don’t know when they’ll stop seeing me as a teenager. Certainly still feel like one. 
Anyway, the whole reason I’m writing this post is because I got angry at an interaction between my best friend and her mom. Not angry at them. Angry at the fact I don’t have that. I don’t have a mom to offer to make me hot chocolate or hear about my day or just want to hug me for the sake of hugging me. It honestly feels like I have no one to make proud anymore. I don’t care what the others think because I don’t respect them as much as I did her. And I knew she wanted me to do well because she loved me. They pay attention because it’s the morally right thing to do. “The poor orphan, oh we’ll look so bad if we ignore them.”And then they smile to themselves and think, “Aren’t we such good people?”
And yeah, they are. Because they’ve fed me, given me somewhere to sleep (A blow up mattress is going to be interesting to sleep on for three months but we’ll make it work), somewhere safe and warm, a ride when I need it, helped me figure out college stuff and official things. And I appreciate that and them from the bottom of my heart. So that’s why I don’t understand why I get so angry. At everyone. Sure, some people deserve it, they’re assholes. Some don’t. And most have left because I don’t know how to handle my grief and other issues. After mom passed, it felt like just about everyone abandoned me. I wasn’t a great friend, I was angry at the world and depressed to a dangerous point. I was in crisis. And didn’t know how to reach out. My foster home got pulled out from under my feet just when I thought things were getting better. My school friends, well, they dropped communication. And some of them, I don’t blame for it. Some I do blame. But playing the Blame Game is stupid. So I wish them the best in their future endeavors and am trying to move on. I just feel like...when my life imploded, everyone was there for the first month. And then i was expected to smile, play happy families and school student and move on from losing the most important person in my life. My mom was my world. And I had to watch for five years as she wasted away. 
You know, some days I just wanna scream “FUCK THOSE PEOPLE. THEY SUCK AND I’M BETTER OFF WITHOUT THEM” Cause some people are just douchebags, who hurt me for what feels like no reason. Some people, I understand couldn’t handle the place I was in. And to this day, I struggle with my self worth because of those sorts of interactions. And yet, I still put up with those kinds of people because I am terrified of being alone. Yet, I like being alone. I just like knowing people are there. And you know, there are some people in my life who frustrate me to no end but I still love them. And I am happy they’re in my life. 
My best friend. I would take a bullet for her. Several bullets in fact. She keeps me grounded, she puts up with all my bullshit and she makes me smile and you know what? I think she genuinely cares. We can fight and I’m not afraid that’s it, I’ll never see her again. I don’t see our friendship as a ticking time bomb. I know she’s there for the long haul. And I hope she knows that about me too. 
My surrogate  older sibling friend. They’re actually older than my sister. But I think they knows me better at this point. To be fair, I need to play my part in reconnecting with my sister. This is the friend who I look up to. I admire their strength and compassion. And they’re so smart and capable! I love them. 
Those are perhaps the two most solid people in my life. The two I don’t gotta pretend around and I can be as broken as I am. So that’s good at least.
I titled this piece superpower, originally. I had an idea in mind but I went off on an tangent as always. Perhaps I’ll go into that another time. 
Hope this helped,
Sincerely, 
Me. 
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inmy-blueperiod · 5 years
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Grandparents Day, Pt. 3
Part 1, Part 2
based on this post:
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1617 words
Peter stops to tie his shoe on the way to the office, and motions for the soldiers to continue, the office is in sight. Walking there, they pass a few empty classrooms, but some have students in them. Like the room that gets used for Academic Decathlon. And guess who sees Peter walking in the hallway?
None other than Eugene "Flash" Thompson.
"Hey, Parker!" he yells. Shit, Peter thinks. "Why aren't you in here? With the rest of your team? Hm?"
"I was coming back, but I just had to show some people to the office and well--they're waiting for me. I'll be back in 15 minutes tops!" he tells his team.
Before he can escape, MJ speaks up; "you better, Peter! You have people depending on you, and if you miss another practice, we have to bench you next competition. You're the smartest here, and we can't afford to bench you, so, please, show up!"
"Yes, MJ! Definitely! I will be here, promise! Give me 15 minutes?" Peter asks hopefully.
She sighs and looks at her watch; "15 minutes, Parker, go." He smiles with relief and sprints to the office to see Steve and Bucky waiting for him.
"Sorry," he apologizes. "I had to talk to my Academic Decathlon team real quick, but I'm here."
"No reason to be sorry. Pete, did you know that your principal--Mr. Morita's--grandfather was Buck and my friend back in our glory days?" Steve smiles.
"Really? No, I didn't know that. Awesome!"
"Yeah, Jimmy, I think, is what we called him. He was a good man," Buck nods at the teen's principal, "We were in the same unit, the 107th. He got captured with me, I think. My memory is still foggy, but I remember that he was my friend."
"Alright, I know you came here to talk to me other than my Grandad. What can I do for you gentlemen?" Morita asks.
"Well, Peter, here, invited us to come to Grandparent's Day on Monday--" Steve begins.
"Ah, yes, I saw that slip. It was given to me when our top student was accused of lying--not to his face, naturally--so I had to check it out. I didn't think it was all that necessary though. I mean, this kid brought in Tony Stark for Parents Day," Morita chuckles.
"Yes, well, we were wondering if everyone could treat us like every other grandparent. I don't want to make a big deal out of it," Bucky replies.
"Yes, of course. I understand perfectly and wouldn't dream of it. My Grandad used to say that he always just wanted to be treated like everyone else and that everything he did, he wanted to and didn't expect any praise."
"Jimmy was a good man. I'm glad you got that gene," Steve smiles. Morita smiles back.
"Thank you, Mr. Morita. I'll try to stop bringing in superheroes so that you don't get any more slips that say I'm a liar," Peter says with a small smile.
Morita chuckles. "I'll ask Mrs. Thatcher to stop sending the complaints to me and instead rip them up." Once out of his office, Morita shakes Steve and Bucky's hands, tells Peter to stay out of trouble and goes back into his office to do some more paperwork.
The three walk down the hallway silently, until Peter breaks it; "hey, I, uh, I have to get back to Decathlon, so I'll see you both at the Tower? It's Thursday and May's working again, so I'm staying there until Monday after dinner."
"Yeah, sure. But, uh, is it okay if we stop by your practice? I mean, we don't have to check it out, it's just that I don't know what Academic Decathlon is and you're involved so I would like to be involved," Steve says sincerely.
"Yeah, no, it's okay Mr. Rog- Steve. Academic Decathlon is an afterschool activity where you go competition and compete against other schools and whichever school figures out the correct answer the fastest wins. Last year, we went to Washington D.C. and won! Well, I mean, I didn't win. I was previously occupied with stopping the Vulture, which was when you both were Rouge. Long story short, I couldn't be there for the competition because Spider-Man was tracking a bad guy. And you both can totally sit-in during practice. It's no big deal." It's a shock to the old heroes that Peter didn't pass out from lack of breath.
”Uh, great! Where’s the restroom?” Steve asks.
”Oh, it’s down this hall, take a left and it’s on the right. We’ll be in the big room over here; just take a right, walk back down the hall, go around the corner and it’s on the left. The floors might be wet though, so I think you should probably take another left walk through the hall, turn past the cafeteria, and take another left. But, then again, they might not be mopping the floors today, so just take a right, walk back down the hall, go around the corner and into the classroom on the left.”
Steve just stared blankly; Bucky chuckled. “I’ll help him out, kiddo. Don’t worry.”
“Thanks, Mr. Barn-- I mean Bucky! I’ll be in there when you get back,” Peter says quickly and marches into Decathlon.
MJ checks her watch; “17 minutes, Parker. It’s not looking good for you.” He sucks in a breath. MJ was always punctual and got upset when others weren’t. At his worried expression, she laughs. "I'm just fucking with you, loser. You were gone for, like, less than 13, so chill out." Even though it sounds like a jab at him, Peter knows better. She's worried about him. He’s not showing up to Decathlon, which isn't new, but he's been.. different since whatever it was that the Avengers are keeping from everyone. No one knows what it is; there are many conspiracies, but the Avengers have confirmed nothing other than yes people disappeared but they’re back and okay now. Which doesn’t make any sense, but most people have gotten over it by now.
“Thanks, MJ,” Peter replies; the two exchange smiles.
“If you guys are done staring into each other's eyes, can we get back to practice?” Flash groans loudly.
“Oh, shut up Eugene. Some people can actually have friends; did you know that? That people can actually enjoy other people’s company?” When Flash doesn’t comment, MJ continues, “I know right! Mind-blowing!”
After a huff, Flash backs off; "whatever. Let's just get back to practice."
"Awesome. First question! What is the atomic number for chlorine?"
With a ding of the bell, Peter answers, "17." He's just relieved that everyone is done arguing.
"Correct. What is the capital of Monaco?"
Another ding. "Monte Carlo," Abe answers.
"Nice. How old was Queen Elizabeth the First when she became queen and what year was it?"
Ding. "It was 1558 and she was 26 years old," Flash answered cockily.
"Nope, close though; she was 25. Maybe next time Eu-" she was abruptly cut off by a loud gasp from Ned. Peter turned to see what had happened and winced (of course, they had to make a dramatic entrance).
"Holy shit," Ned whispered under his breath.
"It's them," Abe exclaimed, just as star struck.
"Uh, hello everyone," Bucky said awkwardly. Steve laughed and tried to cover it up with a cough; he received a deadly glare from the ex-assassin.
Mr. Harrington snapped out of his awe quicker than the rest of them. "Hi, Mr. America-- I--I mean Mr. Rogers! Can we help you with anything?" His voice cracked at 'anything'. Peter try as he may to control it, let a chuckle slip.
"Uh, no, Mr--?"
"Harrington."
"Mr. Harrington," Steve finished. "We just wanted to sit in and see what School Decathlon was all about."
"You dumbass," Bucky said and hit the back of Steve's head. "It's Academic Decathlon. Not School Decathlon."
MJ chuckled and almost every Decathlon member's eyes snapped to her. "What? It's funny," she told them with a roll of her eyes.
"Yeah, Michelle. It's so funny. Violence is so funny. Since you think it's so funny, you should really rethink being the captain and hand it off to someone who deserves it," Flash smiled innocently.
"Yes, you're right. Eugene. I think I'll give the Captain title to Parker," she replied, smug.
"Penis!?” Flash exploded. “Him!? Really!? But he doesn't even show up!"
Peter had his eyes trained on Bucky from the moment Flash opened his mouth. You bet he saw the way Bucky's eyes darkened and how took a menacing step forward.
Steve put a hand in front of Bucky to stop him from doing something he would regret. Like decking a 16-year-old. Steve whispered a "keep calm," and Peter's
hearing picked it up.
"What did you just call him," Bucky demanded. Flash went white a shade white but didn't answer. "What. Did you call him," he growled.
"I-I called him Peter, sir-sir," Flash stuttered out, eyes wide.
"Liar." The glare directed at Flash was deafening. "What did you call him." Silence. "Answer honestly. What did you call him."
"I called him Penis," Flash said confidently as if it would erase his nervous stutter from before, but he still shrank back and dropped Bucky's gaze the moment they met.
Bucky’s glare intensifies ten fold. Steve clears his throat as if to distract his friend from murdering a teenager. “So, uh, Mr. Harrison,” Steve says addressing the supervisor of the club.
Bucky interrupts, “if one of your students is being bullied, do something about it. We’ll be over here watching the rest of practice.” And with that, he drags Steve over to an empty table and makes himself comfortable.
Grandparents Day Tag List: @tamaranianprincess @justmyshitandmoreshit
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polygamyff · 5 years
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7. Part 5
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Sipping my drink as my mom spoke on and on and on, it’s been ten miniutes I would say but she is talking for the gods right now “I understand, but I am safe. I am back in the hotel and I’m ok” I didn’t want to say apartment “is he there?” My mom asked, she asked like I was going to say the truth “no, we got separate rooms” Shawn snorted laughing like a dumbass “Robyn stop making me sound stupid, just be good. Don’t do anything silly and use protection” I groaned out “mom I am twenty five, I know. Please stop it, I am safe and that’s what matters the most right?” My dad has rubbed off on my mom “you are my only child and I can’t help but worry but I will leave you to it and tell that boy I can hear him laughing, we will meet soon” rolling my eyes “I love you mom” let me get her off the phone “I love you too my baby” sighing out smiling, my mother is something else. Placing my phone down at the side of me “your mom is bugging, giving you the talk over the phone. Is your family protective of you?” Closing the pizza box “yes they are, in their only child. They adore me so much, it’s beautiful to feel so loved but at times it can be drowning but I was raised very much loved, I had it from every party of the family. What it is with them, they don’t know Maurice. They are seeing me go off with a random man, that’s all they see it as. Once I let them see Maurice they will be fine, my mom knows I am in love with him” Shawn smiled lightly “you just really love his stupid ass” picking up the empty pizza box “I do Shawn” my phone started ringing, looking down at the I.D.
“Maurice” answering the call walking into the bedroom, in the background you can hear the music blaring “Bonita, my baby. I am coming back, I just wanted to hear your voice and to check you are awake” I cooed out “I am awake, just ate pizza with Shawn. But I am waiting for you Maurice, I miss you and you’re so close to me. How did it go, the event and party?” Sitting in the edge of the bed “good, I didn’t feel myself though, my body kind of felt empty. I left my soul with you. I’m coming now though” picking up the magazine at the side of me, staring at the front cover “I am waiting for you, I love you baby” finally he is coming back “I love you too, I just need to find Malik and I will be there with you” smiling lightly “that’s fine, I’m here” there is a long pause on the phone, even though he is not physically here just this phone call I feel so connected to him, our souls touch every time we speak “put the phone down” Maurice spoke “no, you” I said back “first one to do it loves the most” Maurice said ever so fast and I was quick to end that, laughing out loud at his stupid game he did. I even fell for it and put the phone down, I need to grow up but he brings that out of me.
I guess I better get ready for bed, I mean I am not so sleepy today. I can maybe wear something so sexy for him, I have too. He looks so handsome in his Tuxedo, I got turned on by it. Placing my phone on the side table, the magazine still in my hand. I wonder what this is about, I think it’s like the whole Davenport portfolio thing. Maybe she assumed I was a business woman, I mean you never know I could be one in my dreams. Opening up the first page, oh wow this must be his dad. His dad is really old, oh my god he looks like a grandad. Marquis Davenport, I didn’t think he would be his old like I am very shocked. I ain’t about to read that anyways, turning the page “wow” so his dad is old as shit and his mom is young, now that is some gold digging tactics. She was with this man for money but got three kids out of it, his mom looks actually very scary. You know what, his parents aren’t it, my god. Looking at the other side of the page, his sister is pretty as fuck “ok girl” Nalah Davenport, his sister looks sweet unless I am seeing it wrong. I guess it’s nice to see his family when I really can’t in real terms, just from seeing his parents you can tell they are strict. Turning the page knowing for a fact it’s going to be Maurice, see it’s Maurice. Looking at the pictures and I felt the blood slowly drain from my face.
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Malik is really grinding my gears with shit, finally found him drunk as fuck out of his mind. I have got the SUV driver to carry him up to the apartment, I am not about to do that. Swiping my keycard and unlocking the door, stepping inside the apartment and holding he door for him “thank you, appreciate you doing this for me” I cannot be dealing with that, I just want to go to bed and cuddle my baby. I have missed her so much, I am just glad to have left like I have. They all wanted me to stay but I declined, Robyn comes first and I promised. Naomi was awful, she was dramatic being abrupt, she was drunk. Tried to kiss on me, I pushed her away and then she stormed off but what do I care. I have Robyn here “come on asshole, in here” holding the bedroom open “I’ll get it from here” placing my suit jacket down and grabbing my brother’ arm.
I laid him onto his side, if he planned on being sick then he can not choke “you on stupid nigga saying Robyn, but I love you dumbass” placing the cover over him, he knocked out asleep. I guess that is me. I can now see my baby, she better be ready for this dick. Picking up my suit jacket as I dragged open the door, closing his bedroom door behind me. I can tell they had pizza here, they mad a mess. I just want to hug my baby so much, Nalah wanted to come with us and I was like hell nah. Pushing the bedroom door open “Bonita, I kept to my word” I am here finally, took me time. Closing the bedroom door behind me, seeing my hoodie on the bed. Throwing my suit jacket on the floor of the bedroom, taking off my bowtie “miss me?” Robyn’ glum face, is she really still angry about earlier “if you upset about the marriage thing, Robyn I love you and we will get married. I just be stressing” which is true, I be having too much shit in my mind at times. Undoing my cufflinks “are the lights dim for a reason? Look Robyn, I don’t want us to argue, I want us to be good with each other. Honestly” I want sex too so she better fix up with this “did you have a good night?” she finally speaks, I stopped abruptly staring at Robyn. She is sad, she has been crying “have you been crying? Did something happen?” I am concerned now “I asked you, did you have a good night? Simple” furrowing my eyebrows licking my top lip “erm well it was ok, Malik got very drunk. I chilled with the people and my family, that’s it” pushing back my sleeves on my shirt, this is odd.
Robyn stared at me, tears on the brim of her eyes and I don’t understand why “talk to me, what upset you?” Robyn swallowed hard, the silence in this room is so deafening I could hear the saliva go down her throat “Naomi Davenport” I instantly felt my heart sink “nice little magazine your family got” she threw it at me, it hit at my feet “you’re married, you have been married for five years. Five years, those wedding pictures are cute. Live in a nice house in Texas, I mean it comes together why you’re always there” her voice broke “I went to your hotel, to see you. I went there, I saw her. She walked by me, she was also crying and now look” Robyn looked up to the ceiling “I am going, I clearly broke a marriage up” Robyn got up from the couch, looking down at the magazine I didn’t know existed till now. Watching Robyn grab her suitcase, she been ready to go “please don’t go, hear me out. You don’t understand, please just hear me out!” what do I even do, I wasn’t ready for this “please Robyn, please let me speak to you” Robyn walked by me, pushing the door closed and placing my weight on it “haven’t you done enough!? You had time to tell me, you really had me here thinking I was the only girl in the world, you had a whole second life. I want you to leave me alone. The love I had for you was true” a sob left my lips “this is not how it was supposed to happen” Robyn looked up at me “fuck you Maurice, planning on me like this. Fuck you” she pushed at my chest “I gave myself away to you! I trusted you, I don’t want to hear it” Robyn dragged open the bedroom door as she sobbed out crying.
My whole world has just collapsed around me, I just grasped the meaning of life. Staring at the door hoping that it’s untrue, that this is a lie and this dream is warning me to tell, the emptiness in this bedroom is the way my heart is feeling, damn these legs for not chasing her when I know I am in the wrong. My heart has shattered to pieces, staring up at the ceiling, tears threatening to appear but the tears fell silently down my cheek. A mess. That's what my life is. A huge mess. How could I have predicted that I'd fall in love, I didn’t know this I was just too scared to tell her. I can’t believe I am crying, she got me crying. Something Naomi only wished to see, she always wanted to see my tears but there was no care there. Robyn assumes I am a bad guy but I was stuck and now I am stuck again, why was she even at my hotel. The bedroom door opened, is she back. My eyes widened “it’s me” fucking Shawn, I yanked the door back “you!” pushing him back “me!? I didn’t do anything, I see her go!? She told me to fuck off” Shawn walked back slowly “you let her go to the hotel, she knows now. You happy” swinging my fist in his direction but he moved back “and that is my fault!? She is her own boss, I get it. You crying, you’re upset. I would never do that to you” Shawn fucked me over “Maurice, I am the same one to tell you to text her so why would I!? Think about it” falling down onto my knees placing my hands over my face.
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