#she's as old as I am :') when you're fifteen and somebody tells you they love you you're gonna believe them etc etc

[jeansyvesmoreau]

To me, “FEARLESS” is not the absence of fear. It’s not being completely unafraid. To me, FEARLESS is having fears. FEARLESS is having doubts. Lots of them. To me, FEARLESS is living in spite of those things that scare you to death. 

Happy 15th birthday, Fearless (November 11th, 2008)

[normal-internet-user]

Hello my dear!

May I request a 2012 Donnie x reader, but reader is Casey's twin sister? Like reader and Donnie are together and Casey's super protective

Have a lovely day/night

-🌻

Of course I can my darling 🌻! 💕

OVERPROTECTIVE

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~

Summary: After discovering that you're dating Donnie, Casey makes it his mission to 'scare' the purple masked terrapin.

Warnings: None!

Requested: 🌻

Female Reader!

.........................................

You winced as your younger sister yanked the comb through your hair once again. After finding out you were going on a date, the price for her silence was her getting to style your hair and pick your outfit.

"Are you done yet?" you whined, yelping when she roughly pulled on your hair.

"Nope!" She said. You could just hear her little gap toothed grin.

You sighed and slumped in your seat. You would like to be gone before Casey got home, mostly because you didn't want hin asking questions. He's always had a bit of a- uhm- protective streak.

And what with his already rival like relashonship with your boyfriend, you would really like to avoid any new conflict between the two. So it was best if he didn't know for now, and to your credit, you and Donnie were really good at keeping the whole 'We're dating.' thing a secret.

No one else knew with the exception of Master Splinter, but he was literally a ninja master, not much gets by him.

"Done!" Ella said proudly, handing you a mirror over your shoulder. You had to admit, it was better than you had expected, it actually looked kinda amazing.

"Thanks, now get out so I can change, I wanna leave before Casey gets home."

Ella nodded and skipped out of your room giggling about god knows what. After she left, you closed and locked the door, changing into the outfit she had left out for you.

You opened the door and Ella squealed in excitment, "You look so pretty, (Name)!"

You laughed, "Thanks, Ella. Alright, I'm out, if Dad or Casey ask where I went tell 'em I went to April's or somthing. Capeesh?"

"Capeesh!"

Ella gave you a big hug, then ran off to do something else, read probably. You knew she'd be fine on her own for a while since your dad would be home in about fifteen minutes and she was ten years old after all.

You made your way out of your apartment complex, walking down the ever darkening New York streets. You sent Donnie a quick text to let him know you were on your way to your arranged meeting place, and he replied with a thumbs up and a heart emoji.

You smiled, shaking your head at the simple reply.

You turned down a familar alley, using the worn fire escape to climb up to the rooftops, "Hey there handsome, you waitin' for somebody?" you say with a giggle once you reach the top, startling your boyfriend who was waiting for you.

Donnie spun to face you, relaxing when he saw it was you, "You scared me, (Name)!"

You laughed loudly, "You aren't very good at flirting, huh, Honey?"

Donnie chuckled, muttering, "You'd think you'd know that by now."

You walked over to him, placing a quick kiss on his cheek, further darkening his blush, "It's ok, I'm a big enough flirt for both of us pretty boy." you smiled at him teasingly.

Donnie rolled his eyes half-heartedly, clearing his throat, "So, uhm- I was thinking we could-" He was cut off by your ringing phone.

You pulled the device from your pocket, groaning when you saw the caller ID. It was Casey.

"Crap." you muttered.

Donnie snorted at your reaction, and you sent him a half-hearted glare before answering the phone, "Hello?"

"Hey there, (Nickname), where are you currently, like, at this exact moment?"

You gulped, "Uh, with, April."

"Try again, (Name)!" April's voice sounded from the phone

Double crap.

"Uhm-"

Casey cut you off, "Would you happen to be standing on a rooftop across from Mr. Murakami's shop with Donnie's arm wrapped around your waist? Or am I seeing dopple gangers."

Triple crap.

You and Donnie began to frantically scan the area, before you could even find your twin and April, a loud shout sounded from the building across the street, "That's my sister you brainiac punk!"

"Case', what the hell are you doing over there?" You shouted.

"Looking for you!" he replied,

"How did you even know I wasn't at home?"

"Ella told me!"

You gasped, "That little snitch." you muttered.

"I'm comin' over there!" Casey shouted, and you frantically waved your hands, "No you stay right there, Casey Jones!" you shouted.

"Well lugnuts." Donnie sighed.

You debated taking Donnie and booking it before Casey could get up there, but before you could tell Donnie your plan, Casey emerged from the fire escape.

"Alright, what's goin' on here?" He demanded, storming over to the pair of you and removing Donnie's arm from your waist.

You groaned in annoyance, "This is exactly why I didn't tell you, Casey. I knew you'd act like this."

"If it helps-"

"You shut up." Casey said, cutting Donnie off, "(Name), I don't care who you date, I really don't, but as your twin brother it's my job to make sure you don't get hurt!"

"Casey-"

"Hold on, I'm not done." Casey turned to face Donnie, "So, you listen up nerd, and you listen good. If you hurt my little sister in anyway-"

"Little?!"

"You are younger than me."

"Yeah, by like, 2 minutes!"

"Still younger."

You huffed, crossing your arms, "Whatever."

"Ahem, as I was saying. If you hurt her in anyway shape or form, you better expect Casey Jones to show up outside that nerd den of yours." Casey finished his little speech by poking Donnie's plastron, he then began to walk backwards towards the fire escape, where April was waiting and snickering at the interaction.

The whole time he was backing up, Casey was making an, "I'm watching you." gesture. He then proceded to trip over the edge of the building, and fall backwards onto the fire escape. He jumped up, made one last warning gesture, then he and April left.

You and Donnie looked at each other dumbfounded, "That's... not how I expected that to go..." you said, taking Donnie's hand.

"Me neither," He replied, pulling you closer "I genuinly thought he'd try to fight me. I would have won, obviously, but I digress."

The two of you began to lean in for a kiss, and you hummed, "I'd give him an a for effort, he was trying to intimidate a ninja afterall."

Donnie chuckled in response, and the two of you grew closer, faces only inches apart.

"Hey! No kissing!"

"Dang it, Casey!"

.........................................

There you go 🌻 Anon! I really had fun writing this, like, alot of fun! Tysm for the beautiful request and I hope you all have an amazing rest of your day/night!💕💕

[dearshelby]

SOMEBODY ELSE | T.S

Summary: Tommy invades his ex-girlfriend's bedroom on her wedding day with an offer to make.

A/N: I wanted to write something with this premise for SO LONG, it's not half as good as I planned, but it's here lol

She kept her eyes down in the mirror when Tommy entered the bedroom, he shouldn't be allowed in there, none of the guests were allowed in the private areas of the house, it was obvious he bribed the guards to get his way.

His expensive cologne spread through the place as well as the smoke of his cigarette. A gray, well fitting suit covered his toned body, it was hard to not give him a peek, but she knew better, he no longer deserved the attention.

From her silence, raised his first strike, "You look ridiculous."

"That's not a very nice thing to say." she answered.

"You look ridiculous trying to play the excited bride."

"Why should I not be excited on my own wedding day?" she finally glanced at him.

"'Cause I know what you're like when you're in love and that's not it."

"Ah," she scoffed, "should I be reciting love poems, kicking my feet in the air and twirling curls on my hair? Do you think I'm still fifteen years old?"

Tommy sighed, running his eyes through the bedroom, he looked bothered by the view, he should be the one occupating that place, it should be his clothes on the wardrobe and his name on the wedding certificate.

"Why did you get in here, Thomas?" she asked.

Thomas, from all the people in the house, she was the only one to call him like that, everyone else contented themselves with "Tommy" or "Mr. Shelby", however, she claimed to enjoy the sound of it a long time ago.

"You invited me."

"My husband invited you."

"Oh?"

"He said it'd be better to keep good relations with the businessmen around, that unfortunately, included you."

"Unfortunately, yeah."

An awkward silence fell over, she went back to doing her makeup and Tommy sat down at the end of her bed.

"You love him?" Tommy asked and she gulped, the second strike was much stronger than the first.

"He loves me, and he takes care of me, he was never in jail or involved in anything illegal-"

"That's logical then?"

"No, he's always near, Thomas," she explained, "always, he never spends the night out or locks himself away, he's by my side, I have no doubt of that."

"You didn't answer the question, are you in love with him?"

"Don't." she scolded.

"Or you're still in love with me?"

She teared up and covered her face, how could he so fucking selfish? "Thomas, please, not now, not on my wedding day."

"There'll be no other day," he argued.

"Why are you here? Why today of all the days? You had so many opportunities," Tommy didn't answer, so she continued, "it's because you can't stand it, can you? You can't stand not getting what you want and you want everything."

He took a drag of his cigarette and considered his next words, "I told Arthur to wait outside with the car on."

"You're mad."

"And you're tempted."

"I'm not."

"You are," he insisted and she frowned, "because if you weren't you'd have told me to leave as soon I entered the room, you'd have finished your makeup and you'd be downstairs entertaining your fucking fancy guests, and yet you're here, fifteen minutes late." he finished checking his pocket watch.

"You're being mean, Thomas."

"Am I? I'm not the one fooling a man into thinking I'm in love with him," the last strike was almost strong enough to make the tears run down her face, "you know, love, I'm not the somebody else, he is."

"You've got the devil's tongue but that's not enough," she harshly stated, "you had your chance and you wasted it, I moved on."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, so you can get out of my bedroom, tell Arthur to turn the car off and fucking celebrate like everyone else."

"Right, then I wish you all the happiness in the world," Tommy nodded, looking disappointed, he stood up and slowly walked to the exit, "however, you're gonna regret this."

"Get out, Thomas." she hissed

"I hope we can share a dance later, love." he said at last and left the bedroom.

MASTERLIST

[gashface]

HEY GUYS!!! ,

This weeks prompt, was set out to learn more about your models, and delve a bit into their lives! <;3 These stories should be an important moment in their life, or just a memory that shaped them.

WARNING: This weeks prompt has a couple trigger warnings, which will be listed above the edit, so keep this in mind and proceed with caution &lt;3

With this in mind, onto the results! This week I was looking for edits that embrace your models story again, but from an earlier time in their lives. The main focus was on storytelling this week, and the edits reflecting this story. Whether this be directly, or in an abstract manner.

Charline Morel by @cyazurai

“Quand il me prend dans ses bras…” Fifteen-year-old Charline could hear her own voice singing, and she knew she was, but there was no heart in it. She hated singing. Well, perhaps she didn’t hate it, but through the circumstances she had grown to despise it. “.. qu'il me parle tout bas…” A tear streaked down her left cheek and she avoided her mother’s disapproving gaze. Beside her, her little sister Delphine enthusiastically played her violin to accompany her as they entertained their parents’ guests. “... le vois la vie en rose.” Another tear, this time on the right. This was not a sad song. This was a happy, romantic song. She should be putting her all into it, but all she could feel was the walls closing in. She was surrounded by people she could no longer see - they were just becoming only silhouetted blurs, judging her and family. They must be perfect. This happens every year. It was her parents’ New Years Eve party, and every year it was her and her sister’s obligation to make sure not to disappoint the hundreds of prestigious guests their parents invited. They had to be perfect or else. She hated this. She hated it. She didn’t want to be forced to sing just for a little bit of positive attention. Why did she have to do this? Why did Delphine have to be perfect at the violin just so that their parents might agree to let them go out for ice cream (when it wasn’t even a guarantee)? It was unfair. It was at this moment that Charlie realized she didn’t want to do this anymore, and so as the tears streamed down her cheeks, she decided to pour her heart into it one last time - because next year, she was going to be her parents’ performing monkey over her dead body.

POINTS

ORIGINALITY: 8/10

STORY: 10/10

EXECUTION: 9/10

STYLE: 9/10

Parker Winston by @morgynemberisagenderfluiddaddy

TW!: Suicide, self harm, mental health

Hi! My name's Parker, and I've tried to commit suicide multiple times. I know you're thinking that's a morbid and socially awkward way to introduce myself, but hey, it's a big part of my story and who I am. Don't get me wrong, there's a lot more to a person than just their mental health, but a lot of the time, these things tend not to get discussed, period. Let alone when we are trying to get to know somebody, so for today, I hope we can put that stigma aside, and I can tell you a little about my journey.

I have ADHD, and depression is something I have lived with as far back as I can remember. By the time I was twenty, I had tried to kill myself three times, I had a family that didn't talk to me, I'd cut my arms up so much my forearms were more scar than skin, my heart was crushed by someone I thought was the love of my life, and I was hooked on anything I could get my grubby little hands on.

I think about that shit a lot, the things I did, and the decisions I made. I think about the person I was and the person I am today.

They're wildly different people, but now that I'm able to see it from another side, I realize one can't exist without the other. I would've never learned the things I did, and I couldn't have grown from it. It was hell, and I had to claw those life lessons from my struggle like a damn wolverine, but hey, I survived! Despite my best efforts... Yeah, I know that's not funny, but if you don't laugh sometimes, you'll cry, and I'm sick of crying about it.

I hated who I was, and I had a hard time coping with everything I did, not just the suicide attempts but everything. Though I finally realized I couldn't change the past, but I could change the future.

I could get help, and I could make sure none of that ever happened again. I can't change the past, and it aches to know that somewhere in space and time, that kid is still struggling, and I wish I could talk to him... I don't know what I'd say to him because I know he wouldn't listen and probably just lift my wallet. But I still want to hug him, tell him that really it's all going to be okay, that he needs to let go of a lot of shit and learn to love himself, then I'd tell him to get rid of that asshole's shitty T-shirt.

The pain you feel, it's not for nothing, but it's also not forever. You'll learn from this, and in a way you least expect it, it will come full circle. Ease up on the drugs, stop cutting, and get yourself some help. I know you don't think you deserve it, but you do! And believe it or not, one day you're going to have a lot of people that want and need you around. This shit doesn't get any easier, but it does get better. You just need to let it.

So tell that jackass his band ain't shit, tell your parents they're full of shit, and tell your siblings you love them even though they all suck, hang onto your friends, don't be so scared, let yourself feel, and listen to yourself once in a while! You know yourself better than you think, and you know what you need, and guess what! The answer isn't always coke! I can't help that kid anymore, but I can help the one's reading this, and if in this moment you feel hopeless, do me, a stranger on the internet, a favor. Take a deep breath, know that it gets better, and reach out to somebody! You deserve help, you deserve love, and you deserve to be alive! With love, - Parker W.

POINTS

ORIGINALITY: 9/10

STORY: 10/10

EXECUTION: 7/10

STYLE: 7/10

Ember Arendse by @wolfrynn313

Ember: "When I saw this week's prompt,I knew that I had to recreate a childhood photo of me at the keyboard with my Mum/Mom. I've always been creatively inclined and so have both of my parents and brothers; I thought it important to focus on the crystallization of my musical inclination and creativity, hence the feature of ice freezing in place. I realized who I was pretty early on and remain to be proud of the person that I grew into."

POINTS

ORIGINALITY: 8/10

STORY: 8/10

EXECUTION: 8/10

STYLE: 8/10

Dillion Carter by @mewo-ita

Idea: Cherished memory of being with family at a rollerskating rink’s 80s night.

“Figured I should say something myself this time. My comfort place for the past decade whenever I feel overwhelmed to do anything has been this rink.

I discovered it the first three months after being adopted. I barely talked to anyone an’ just prepared to go back to the orphanage. That never stopped my new family tryin’ though and one day, we put on retro clothes and drove down to this place. It was 80s night, like it is now, and my sisters who I brought today helped me skate.

“Beat it” was playing in the background and I ‘member it being the first time I smiled in years. I was wearing a tomodachi my ma brought me and had no clue what soul or funk was, but I loved it. Did a lot for my confidence and ability to be around strangers— I don’t think I’d even consider being a model if not for that experience. I’d say it affected my fashion sense too, in a good way; makes me more open to change and bold colors.

Sure my folks will be able to find me here from now on; they didn’t know where I went off to before. S’not too bad.”

POINTS

ORIGINALITY: 9/10

STORY: 10/10

EXECUTION: 9/10

STYLE: 9/10

HOLY MOLY GOOD WORK GUYS!

I just want to say, thank you for all the effort you put into every weeks prompt. Your dedication is amazing x it makes hosting this so much fun

The next prompts will be released 8pm aest 25th of June.

Thanks guys x

- Buddy

Prompt Hint:

[annaphoenix1994]

Ch.86 - Mother's Touch

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

Kiera and Baler meet whilst in the middle of a harsh goodbye.

"I don't know why I gotta do this shit." Bud grumbled as he got into the driver's seat of his truck. 

Kiera giggled, getting into the passenger seat, "Because you're getting older, daddy. Somebody has to make sure you're okay inside and out." 

"The only manhood I'll have left is my big toe after all of this is over." 

"Good lord, dad. You complain just as much as Frankie," Kiera sighed, buckling her seatbelt. "It's just a colonoscopy." 

"Least I'll be gettin' some good sleep." 

"Finally, you're seeing a positive outcome." She huffed, pulling her phone from her jacket pocket to send her mother a text message to remind her that the children usually woke up hungry around eleven as well as seeing a text message Simon had sent her:

Today, 7:34 AM

Simon: I'm not sure what time I'll be home this morning love. We got a call that involves a kid and we're taking him to the hospital to get checked out. Fucked up shite. I'll see you soon. I love you

Today, 8: 16 AM

Kiera: I figured you had to work overtime. I'm taking dad to the hospital for his routine colonoscopy. He's not a happy camper. Mom is watching the kids while I'm gone. I'll see you at home. I love you baby

Once at the hospital in town, Kiera was escorted by one of the nurses after her father was wheeled away towards the operating room, stopping once she had laid her eyes on Simon attending a small briefing with his team to conclude their operation. She grinned, squeezing his bicep as she walked by, knowing that he hadn't felt her presence until she had walked by, unaware that he had kept his eyes on her after she walked by, his breath hitching of impatience as he hoped the briefing would end soon so that he could talk to her, mentally noting that she had gone outside to get fresh air instead of being in the waiting room, the pair knowing that she deeply had permanent anxiousness when it came to hospitals. 

She sat on the bench outside, taking a deep breath before crossing her right leg over her left, waiting a few moments before hearing the door open, seeing Simon removing his balaclava and clutching it between his fingers as he took a seat next to her, his free hand cupping her knee. "Rough day at the office?" 

"Rough is an understatement, love," He scoffed. "Captain said if the man dies, then they'll try to charge the kid for first-degree murder." 

"Oh, shit. How old is he?" 

Simon shrugged, "Fifteen I think. Just a kid."

"And if they sentence him, he'll be serving the rest of his life in juvenile detention. Unless they rule it as self-defense."

"I know, but that's only if the judge rules it as self-defense and if his father lives through. For a teenager, he beat that bastard pretty bad." 

"Wow," Kiera sighed, wrapping her arm around his and leaning her head on his shoulder. "I hope it all works out for him." 

"It all happens for a reason," He huffed. "Want me to stay here with you until your father gets out?" 

"If you want to, babe," She smiled. "You know I'll never reject your company." 

"I was hoping you'd say that. You'd just have to drop me off at the station so I can get my car." 

"That's fine with me. I pass it anyway on the way home."

He smirked, turning his head to kiss her forehead, the pair ignoring the sound of the exit door opening. "Hey, Riley. Captain said he needed you to come with us to file paperwork." 

Simon huffed, shooting Cook a glare for interrupting his and Kiera's moment, "Now?" 

"No, he just told me to come and tell you while he and Chris are going to the car. Yes, now." Cook scoffed.

"If you had just as much common sense as you had sarcasm, maybe I wouldn't have to watch your six every time you storm through a building," Simon scoffed. "I'll be there in a minute." 

"We'll be waiting on you." 

"No, I figured you would've left me after telling me we needed to leave." 

"Is he always this grumpy, Kiera?" Cook opened his arms. 

"Not with me," Kiera shook her head. "Never has." 

"It's because I know better," Simon corrected. "I'll meet you at the car. Just give me a minute." 

"Captain said he wanted to see me bring you along. He knows you're distracted." Cook arched his brow. "So you won't mind me French-kissing my fiancé while I tell her how excited I am to be home?" He arched his brow sarcastically, knowing that Cook would finally leave him the hell alone when it came to spending time with Kiera. 

"R-Right. I'll be inside." 

"That's what I thought," He scoffed, standing to his feet before offering his hand for Kiera to take. "Well, so much for staying here with you." 

She giggled, "It's okay, babe. I know you have work to do-"

"I do, but I was supposed to be off an hour ago. Now I'm just eager to get home and sleep after I greet you proper and get to spend time with our children." He sighed. 

"Well, the doctor told me that his colonoscopy should be about an hour. After that and he spends some time in recovery, I should be home by noon." 

"Okay, love. I'll probably be home before you." 

"Don't forget that mom is watching them right now. She insisted on watching them while I took dad so that we could spend some time together." 

"I'll pick them up when I get back to the ranch. I'll lay down when I know you get home." 

She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pulled herself closer to him - as close as she could given his heavy tactical vest separated them even more, "I could use a power nap, too. I'll see you at home." 

"I love you." 

"I love you too." 

He smiled into the kiss, his hands resting on her hips as he truly didn't want to say goodbye, but simply knew that it wasn't a goodbye, just a see you later.

*

Kiera sat on the bench outside, the smell of Simon's lingering cologne still on the sleeve of her jacket. She smiled at the thought, looking at the time on her phone to see that the operation was only a half-hour in. Scrolling through her photo album, she mused at how she was able to sneak so many pictures of Simon, her favorites being when he would have a simple baseball cap turned backwards on his head, when he'd be riding a horse learning how to cut off a steer or rope with her father's encouragement, when he'd tend to his children with a soft and loving touch. 

"You-You got a cigarette?" A voice asked her. 

She looked up from her phone, seeing a boy that looked to be in his teens, brown curly hair and brown eyes staring back at her. She could see he had been treated for his wounds, leaving only a stark bruise around his right eye and a split bottom lip. 

"Sorry, kid. I don't smoke." She forced a smile, looking up at him. 

"What happened to your face?" 

His question pissed her off, any ounce of empathy fading for the boy in front of her. She scoffed, "What happened to yours?" 

"My dad," He shrugged. "He's dyin' you know." 

"Mine thinks he's dying, too. Except it's his pride that's dying. What's killing yours?" 

The boy scoffed, "Heroin and bad luck." 

"And I'm assuming you were his bad luck?" 

"You're damn right, lady." 

Kiera couldn't help but chuckle, seeing herself in the teen's words and attitude, except his demeanor reminded her exactly of Simon, somehow seeing an exact portal to how Simon was at his age. "What's your name, kid?" 

"...Jonah..." 

"For someone who was honest about beating the shit out of their dad, you're a bad liar when it comes to telling me your actual name." 

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet, "Baler. L-Like the-"

"Tractor attachment. I know," She grinned. "Easy to remember." 

"Yeah..." He nodded, cautiously putting one foot in front of the other before sitting on the opposite end of the bench. "That man who was with you... He was the one who brought me in."

"I know," She assured him with a smile. "He told me." 

"He doesn't seem like a man who tells a lot."

"He's not, but we tell each other everything."

"Is-Is that how it's supposed to be?" 

It was then that Kiera recognized that Baler had never had any type of guardianship in his short fifteen years of life. "It is."

"Excuse me? Mr. Harrison? You should come with me." A nurse said, clipboard in hand. 

"Am I in trouble?" 

The nurse shook her head, "No, you're not in trouble. Are you a relative or friend in the family?" 

Kiera's jaw dropped, knowing exactly what the nurse was trying to say without saying it at all.

"I guess I am now..." Kiera sighed, standing to her feet to follow Baler inside, sensing his nervousness. 

They soon entered a room located in the Critical Care Unit, seeing a man around his forties on a ventilator. "Is-Is he dead?" Baler asked the doctor. 

"Uh, no, son. We...We don't have any brain activity."

"So, he's dead?" 

Kiera saw how the doctor didn't want to respond truthfully, not wanting to make the situation any harder on the young man. "You can tell him." Kiera nodded at the man, watching him sigh. 

"I'm afraid there's a negative sign of brain activity. The...The only thing keeping your father alive at the moment is the ventilator." 

Baler nodded, "O-Okay." 

"Want me to give you some time?" 

"He'd like that." Kiera spoke up, watching the doctor nod in agreement. 

"I'll give you a few moments."

Kiera stood aside as she watched Baler take a deep breath, putting one foot in front of the other as he slowly approached his father's bedside, refraining from grasping his hand in one last attempt, "If only you weren't a piece of shit, I'd probably be upset in this situation right now," Baler whispered. "If only you weren't a piece of shit, I'd call you dad. But I'll tell you what you've always told me: you're a worthless piece of shit."

Kiera nodded, pursing her lips, impressed. "I like your style, kid." 

"I don't have a style." Baler scoffed. 

"Well, you have a way you say things." 

"I say what comes to mind," He shrugged, forcing away the tears welling in his eyes. "Shit happens, I guess." 

Kiera watched as he shook his head, shrugging his shoulders as he looked the opposite way away from her worried gaze. He couldn't help the quiet whimper that left his lips. He wasn't crying due to the loss of his father, but the loss of a once-father - a man he remembered to only show affection when he was a child - that loss. She frowned, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

A mother's touch.

[perspectivestarters]

Perspective's Sentence Starters; Evermore (Part II)

NO BODY, NO CRIME

"He did it."

"Her husband's actin' different."

"It smells like infidelity."

"That ain't my Merlot on his mouth."

"That ain't my jewelry on our joint account."

"I think I'm gonna call him out."

"I think he did it, but I just can't prove it."

"No body, no crime."

"I ain't lettin' up until the day I die."

"I noticed when I passed his house."

"His mistress moved in."

"Sleeps in (name)'s bed and everything."

"Somebody's gotta catch him out."

"Good thing my daddy made me get a boating license when I was fifteen."

"I've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene."

"Good thing (name)'s sister's gonna swear she was with me."

"She was with me, dude."

"They think she did it, but they just can't prove it."

"She thinks I did it, but she just can't prove it."

"I wasn't lettin' up until the day he died."

HAPPINESS

"I see this for what it is."

"All the years I've given is just shit we're dividin' up."

"Showed you all of my hiding spots."

"In the disbelief, I can't face reinvention."

"I haven't met the new me yet."

"There'll be happiness after you."

"There was happiness because of you."

"Haunted by the look in my eyes that would've loved you for a lifetime."

"Leave it all behind and there is happiness."

"When did your winning smile begin to look like a smirk?"

"When did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt?"

"I hope she'll be a beautiful fool who takes my spot next to you."

"No, I didn't mean that."

"Sorry, I can't see facts through all of my fury."

"You haven't met the new me yet."

"There is happiness in our history."

"I can't make it go away by making you a villain."

"I guess it's the price I paid for seven years in Heaven."

"I pulled your body into mine every goddamn night."

"No one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you."

"You know you hurt him too."

"After giving you the best I had, tell me what to give after that."

"I think she'll give you that."

DOROTHEA

"Do you ever stop and think about me?"

"You got shiny friends since you left town."

"A tiny screen's the only place I see you now."

"I got nothing but well wishes for ya."

"This place is the same as it ever was."

"It's never too late to come back to my side."

"The stars in your eyes shined brighter in Tupelo."

"You know that you'll always know me."

"You'rе a queen sellin' dreams, sellin' makeup and magazines."

"From you, I'd buy anything."

"They all wanna be ya."

"Are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers?"

"I guess I'll never know."

CONEY ISLAND

"Break my soul in two looking for you."

"If I can't relate to you anymore, then who am I related to?"

"How'd we get here so soon?"

"Did I close my fist around something delicate?"

"Did I shatter you?"

"Sorry for not making you my centerfold."

"The question pounds my head."

"What's a lifetime of achievement if I pushed you to the edge?"

"Do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there?"

"Will you forgive my soul when you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?"

"It was the one place to be."

"Sorry for not winning you an arcade ring."

"Were you waiting at our old spot?"

"Did I leave you hanging every single day?"

"Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest grey?"

"When I got into the accident, the sight that flashed before me was your face."

[amydancepants-peralta]

Of course, definitely willing to wait! I just had this idea and you're one of the best smut writers lol. I'm not sure if someone has done this already, correct me if I'm wrong. Prompt: -Dating stage- Amy goes away for a few days, leading to desperate phone sex.

(this is way later than intended, but ... sexy phone time ahead!) 😉 

(nsfw!)  (ao3 😇)

hooked on you 

“Ohh, mama … tell me more, babe.”

From his position lying in the bed he shares with the love of his life, Jake grins into the otherwise empty room, the hand holding a phone to his ear tightening it’s grip as the sound of Amy’s husky voice filters down the line.  It’s the same voice that never fails to turn him on - though when it comes to Amy, that really isn’t specific to her voice - and if she had been anywhere other than a hundred miles away for an overnight conference, there’s no doubt that he’d be reaching out to touch her impossibly soft body right now.  

But tonight, the woman he hopes to one day call his wife is in East Hampton, and today had been 

a long day that felt all the worse for not having her smiling at a desk across from his.  So when she’d sent him a text earlier this evening, hinting at the potential for phone sex, Jake had been quick to turn off the movie and head towards their bedroom, because a) it’s Amy, and b) happy hopeful future wife means happy hopeful future life.  

In the past five weeks since his exoneration, both he and Amy had fought hard to keep their bubble untouched by the outside world, favouring nights and weekends in bed over all else.  (Even if he’d only ended up in jail for eight weeks, the fear of fifteen years had been very real, and each prolonged snuggle felt like a step closer to making up for lost time.)  But when Amy had been invited to join other ambitious officers at a three-day conference, both of them knew that the opportunity was too good to pass up - except for the fact that now, they were both far too far away from each other, and itching to close the gap in any way they could.

Including a handy (and newly discovered) version of sexy talk, called Jake describes books he’s reading to a horny Amy.  

(It holds a 98% success rate.)

(Ninja Turtle comics, he was quick to discover, are not on the Acceptable Books list.)

“It’s called Good Omens, and it’s written by two different authors, Ames.  It’s a … collaboration.”

“Mmm.  You’ve been reading so much, Jake.”

Grinning, Jake nods with pride.  “Three Philip Roths and the whole D.C Parlov series, babe.”

“Mmm.”  There’s a rustle of something on the other side of the line, and as he closes his eyes Jake imagines his girlfriend settling in to her hotel bed, the academy shirt that she ‘borrowed’ from him over two years ago just barely covering her bottom half.  It was a tantalising image, even if unconfirmed, and he stretches his left hand down to nurse the erection that was beginning to build beneath his boxers.

“Now tell me about your day, hun.  You went to a seminar?”

“Oh god yes,” Amy sighs again, and the version of her in his mind tents her legs, one after the other, as her underwear slinks away.  “I met the leading specialist in dactyloscopy, and he called my notes from a case last year ..” she lets out another sigh, this one filled with satisfaction.  “Exemplary.”

“Does that make you feel good, Ames?”

Amy responds with a muffled moan into the receiver, and Jake feels his cock expand underneath his palm.  His throat starts to feel dry, the quickening of his heart never going away no matter how many times they’ve done this, and he licks his lips before asking - “Are you touching yourself, babe?”

“Mmm hmm.”

He pushes the edge of his boxers down, relishing in the sweet relief of pressure that comes with letting his erection spring free, and listens to his girlfriend sigh through the phone line as his fingers grip around the base.  “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

The bedspread muffles Amy’s response for a second, and when she comes back her voice is so breathy, it hurts.  “You.”  Jake’s eyes flicker over to the top drawer of their dresser, where the ring he bought for her finger remains hidden inside a pair of old socks, and oh how he wishes he could just marry her tomorrow. 

“Did you miss me today, babe?”

“We talked about the - ” pausing for a moment, Amy takes a heavy swallow, and Jake’s grip around his dick tightens.  “The importance of observation.  And it made me think about that case you solved last week, just from reading over the victim’s diary.  I love your observant mind, Jake.  Love you.”  She lets out another sigh, one that Jake recognises as completely turned on Amy, and his wrist begins to slide up and down.  If she keeps going like this, there’s no way he’s going to last long.  “I miss you every day you’re not around.”

Eight weeks behind cold metal and too-far-apart visits nudge into the back of his mind.  “God, I wish you were here next to me.”

“Mmm.  Me too, babe.”

Pushing his head further into the pillow underneath, Jake’s teeth sink into his lower lip as memories of a naked Amy take over his senses.  “Ames?”

“Hmm?”

“What is your hand doing right now?”

Her smile, he knows, has turned into the slow and sexy upward curve of her lips that made him an absolute goner the very first time she unleashed it.  “What do you want it to be doing?”

Jake’s eyes squeeze tight, the rotating grip of his left hand around his cock increasing as he tries to vocalise everything he wishes he were doing.  “If I was there, Ames?  My hands would be all over your body.  Kissing every inch of those beautiful curves.  Leaving marks in places only you and I will ever know about.  Touching you.  Tasting you.  Diving into you, so deep I don’t ever want to come back.”

“Ahh!  Jake …”

“But I’m not there.  Even though I want to be, more than you know.”  He lets out a soft moan, imagining the hand wrapped around his cock is Amy’s as it speeds up.  “So I want you to touch yourself, the way I would.”

“Yesss.”

“Are you wet for me, babe?”

“Only for you.”

The obvious arousal in Amy’s voice makes Jake’s dick twitch, and he lets out another sigh.  “Wish you knew how hard I am for you right now.”

“Mmm.  Wish you were inside me, Jake.”

“I’m there with you, Ames.  Imagine it.  Your fingers are mine.”  Gasping softly into her phone, Amy mumbles a version of his name, and Jake has to let go of his cock before he comes all over the bedspread.  Ladies first.  “My tongue is on your clit, and my fingers are deep inside.  You feel so warm around me, so perfect.  So amazing.”

The soft hum of Amy’s vibrator cuts into the background, and Jake realises with a grin that she’d been using her headphones all along; ever the most-prepared.  Her moans gather momentum as the vibrations grow muffled, phone long abandoned on the mattress beside her; and in that moment there’s nothing that Jake wouldn’t give to be able to teleport himself right into her hotel room, just to watch his crazily sexy girlfriend fall apart the way he knows she’s about to.  

“Jake.”  Her voice is throaty, the shuddering breaths of a woman pushing closer to climax barreling down the phone line, and Jake’s grip around his cock returns.  “You feel so good, babe.  I want you here.”   

“Soon, Ames.”  With the steady pumping action of his hand, Jake’s not entirely sure how he’s still managing coherent speech, but the sound of Amy’s moans spur him on.  “Soon, you’ll be home, and then you and I are going to fuck each other so hard that neither of us will be able to think straight for a week.”  A familiar tightening of his abdomen begins to creep in, and Jake knows he’s not far away.  “But for now, I want you to think about my tongue on your skin. My fingers digging into your gorgeous butt.  My thumb on your clit, rubbing those circles that drive you mad.”

The sound of Amy’s responding orgasm is muffled - he’d bet good money that her teeth are sinking into a pillow right now - but just enough to make Jake’s wrist move faster, and by the grace of all that is good he manages to have the presence of mind to lean forwards; snatching a couple of tissues from the holder on Amy’s bedside table before letting it all go with a heavy moan of her name.  

It takes a solid minute or two of shattered breathing on either side of the line before Jake can even try to speak, the distorted galaxy of stars behind his eyes dissipating as the high from his climax slowly fades.  “My god, Ames.  How you can make me come that hard without even being in the room … you really are the sexiest woman I could ever know.”

Amy’s chuckle is soft, her gratification obvious in her tone as she replies, and he imagines her unfurling her naked limbs underneath the hotel room sheets.  “Just warming you up for our reunion in a day or two, boyfriend.”

“I’m counting down the hours, babe.”  

His smile grows soft as he turns to look at the calendar on their dresser, noticing that Halloween is only one week away as their discussion turns to their days tomorrow; both so comfortable within each other’s presence that post-orgasm conversation really can be about anything.  

He runs over the Heist Engagement plan in the back of his mind as she wishes him goodnight, the lingering satisfaction in her voice enough to give him another semi, wrapping his palm loosely around as he relives the moment over and over again.  

And later in the evening as Jake turns out the light, he sends out a note of gratitude for whatever lucky dice he managed to throw that led to someone as incredible as Amy Santiago falling in love with somebody like him.  

And if he’s even luckier, she’ll say yes on October 31st.  

[isthisitbytaylornicole]

"is this it?" BLOG POST #1: hey, you! meet adulthood. the ghetto, if you will...

Author's Note:

First of all, welcome to my blog! It feels so surreal to be saying that because this is something I have wanted to do for so long, but fear, laziness, and "plans" kept me from doing so. I am so happy that you have decided to take time out of your day to sit and read my post. I'm so excited to be able to share these stories with you all about my dirty little cousin, Adulthood. She doesn't mean any harm, she just doesn't know any better. Trust me. I hope you are intrigued by what I have to say and I would love to chat with you in the comments about these topics. Enjoy!

"Don't you find it odd, that when you're a kid, everyone, all the world, encourages you to follow your dreams. But when you're older, somehow they act offended if you even try."

-Unknown (The Hottest State)

I can say, without hesitation, that I was not fully prepared for what adulthood had to offer. She came without remorse, but made sure to bring all sorts of debt, the occasional iffy encounter, and topped it all off with a micro-aggression or two (or ten). In these instances where I was thrown into situations dealing with money, racism, self-identity, relationships, etc., how did I handle these episodes with minimal detrimental impact on my inner psyche? The answer; I didn't because I didn't know how to.

I vividly remember the process of applying to colleges, final senior presentations, deciding what school I wanted to go to, all while being molded in the belief that college was the best option, if not the only option, for young, black, teenagers, like myself, who wanted to be successful. Please don't misunderstand me when I say this. I definitely agree with the fact that as young adults we should be able to take advantage of all the opportunities given to us including continuing an education at a four-year institution and experiencing all that college has to offer like social engagements and freshmen fifteen. However, I do not believe that is the only way to solidify success in a society where situations like going to a four year conventional university have become the norm. While we are molded into believing a four-year college is one of only three options for teenagers of color [the other options being pregnancy or prison as stereotype culture has taught us] we are limited in the knowledge of only knowing how to make it TO college, and not how to be successful THROUGHOUT and beyond college and I am a prime example.

Due to the stigma of black high school dropouts, often times, high schools in cities like Detroit (who primarily house students of African decent) strive for one-hundred percent high school graduation and college acceptance rates ,as apposed to, one-hundred percent college fulfillment and graduation rates. In other words, they don't care how you get home from the party, as long as you were invited. And I mean who can blame them?! While primarily white high schools with students trying to decide if they want to attend either Harvard or Yale are spitting out graduates left and right, primarily black high schools can't even get scantron sheets on time for their junior students to take the SAT, which is it supposed to be an equal opportunity test for all students, accept those with brown skin of course. (This happened at my high school btw.)

Then I get to college only to see that all of my professors are old, white, dirty men, which is not in fact the demographic I grew up within. Is this it? Is this what my parents are paying almost forty-thousand dollars a year for? Is this your King?! 👨🏼‍🏫Well, I'm here now and I guess I need to stick this out. Never mind being one of only four black students in an intro to political science class of almost forty-five. Never mind having a black roommate who didn't know if she wanted to be Ebony or Ivory that day. Her white boyfriend did tell me I had nice skin one day which was nice of him. Never mind me working at the McDonald's right across the street from my dorm my freshman year where almost everyday somebody I knew would come and try to get free food from me. (That didn't really have anything to do with my hardships during my time at college, but it was irritating trying not to get caught smuggling cookies and McFlurries out of the store every other day. I was too nice obviously.) Never mind having to refrain from using any kind of ebonics in order to fit into conversations and/or lectures about political science topics in order to sound more professional and educated to my white peers and professors (A.K.A code switching😶‍🌫️ 🎛). Overall, the majority of my time spent inside the college classroom setting was often done in ways that involved me faking it until I made it, until I didn't make it.

I dropped out of college at the end of my sophomore year and at the time it seemed like my biggest failure. Not only did I feel like I failed myself, I felt like I failed my family and closest friends and quite literally I failed most of my classes😬. Not to mention the thousands of dollars in student loans left for me to pay back which was bound to happen anyways but that is a totally different conversation for another post. (Sallie Mae better hope she don't catch these hands.) I felt like, as do most young adults my age, there was a timeline on my success. If I didn't get that college degree in four years, and have a car and apartment by twenty, my life had no worth. This narrative was brought on not only by my school environment growing up, but it was brought on by the climate that we live in today. As young people, we are so easily influenced by pop culture, social media, YouTube, sports media, our peers, music and so many other ideals constantly bombarding our everyday lives. We're shown these unrealistic almost fantasy-like scenarios in which all you have to do it make a prank video in order to make money and once you have money, fame, and a VLONE shirt, boom, you have worth! Why am I rushing to fulfill these egregious standards set by these dull influencers who can't even spell egregious. Success does not have only one definition. To me, success is defined by your own standards and not society's. And college is not a one stop shop!

The picture of adulthood has been painted so monochromatically that I have at times lost my ability to dare to dream bigger than what has been laid before me with society's crusty hands. Yes I plan on finishing my education at a four year college, but at the time, my college experience would not have allotted me the opportunity to discover the world of Cyber Security and the many job opportunities and networks I've been exposed to.

All in all, take advantage of ALL the opportunities you encounter whether they are laid out in front of you or even if you have to network to find them.

This was just a piece of the perspectives I am excited to offer as I continue to share my stories in this world of blogging and rediscovery. I hope I didn't scare any of you off already because in my next blog piece I will be diving into more aspects of adulthood and the whole notion of relationships(romantic and non); do we really need them tho? and how do we weed out the bad ones and water the fruitful ones?

PLEASE TUNE IN ON TUESDAY FOR MY NEXT INSTALLMENT OF "IS THIS IT?" BY TAYLOR NICOLE AND THANK YOU FOR READING!💛

By: Taylor Nicole

LEAVE YOUR THOUGHTS AND COMMENTS BELOW! I WOULD LOVE TO CHAT.💛

[mindfulwrath]

Silver, Part XII

Partings, of several kinds.

Words: 3,377 Warnings: None

Part I Part XI

Utterson hadn't heard from Lanyon in three days, and his patience had stretched as thin as it was able. Something, he reasoned, must have happened in conjunction with or immediately after the kidnapping, something that had catastrophically altered Lanyon's mindset. Utterson would have expected him to be crowing with delight over the disappearance of Hyde, magnetized to Jekyll's side to prevent anything else from happening to him; but although Jekyll had been making fairly regular appearances as he prepared for the exhibition, nobody Utterson talked to had seen Lanyon at all.

So it was that when Utterson called on him at home, and Hopwood answered the door with an eyebrow already half-cocked, he decided upon the instant that he wasn't going to go away until he'd gotten some answers.

"I'm afraid Dr. Lanyon isn't seeing anyone, sir," Hopwood said.

"Will you at least ask him?" Utterson said.

"He was very adamant."

"Tell him that it's me, and that I'm concerned for his wellbeing," Utterson said.

Hopwood's eyebrow went off, and he lifted his chin imperiously.

"I shall inquire," he said. He left Utterson standing on the doorstep.

Two minutes later, he returned, and ushered Utterson into the conservatory. The curtains were drawn, and there was a fire in the grate. Lanyon was sitting in front of it, gaunt and sickly. Utterson hovered in the doorway while Hopwood went away.

"You may as well sit down," Lanyon said, and his voice was dull, hollow. He did not look up.

Utterson minced into the room and sat down on the very edge of the nearest chair to Lanyon.

"All this darkness will do you no good," he said. "We ought to open the curtains."

"No," said Lanyon.

"Then at least we can light the lamps."

"The light hurts my head, Gabriel. Leave them off."

He was still staring into the fire. His hair was mussed, his clothes disheveled.

"Something has happened," Utterson concluded.

"Has it?" said Lanyon.

"It very clearly has. Talk to me, Robert. I want to help."

He shook his head, his lips pinching into a thin line.

"It's not my place to say," he said. "I have learned something terrible, and I wish I hadn't."

"Is it to do with Jekyll?"

"I am done with Henry Jekyll," Lanyon snapped, his hands clenching into fists. "I am done with him, and I want nothing more to do with him."

"Ah," said Utterson, taking this in stride. "I see."

He wondered what could possibly have turned Lanyon so virulently against Jekyll, and in such a short space of time. A scientific falling-out seemed unlikely; they'd been bickering with each other like an old married couple about whose field was more legitimate since Utterson had met them. Lanyon had supported and indeed indulged even the most fanciful of Jekyll's projects, including the founding of the Society and the subsequent antics therein. It must, he thought, have been something more personal, something that cut far deeper.

"Still," Utterson went on. "I would hope that you're not done with the care and keeping of yourself. It would make things tremendously hard on Hopwood, for starters."

"Gabriel, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but stop," said Lanyon. "I'm not interested in being cheered up. I'm not interested in company."

"You let me in simply so you could tell me to go away again?" Utterson asked.

"I—no, of course I didn't—" Lanyon sputtered, then put his face in his hands with a groan. "Damn you, Gabriel, you perfect fool."

Utterson reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Whatever it is," he said, "I'm certain it can be mended."

"It can't, and I don't want it to be," Lanyon said into his hands.

Utterson pursed his lips, tickling his nose with his mustache.

"Then there's no use dwelling on it, is there," he said.

Lanyon swatted at him halfheartedly, revealing the ghost of a smile on his face.

"Don't make me like you," he said. "I'm a misanthrope now, I've committed, let me wallow in peace."

"Ah," said Utterson. "I see. Far be it from me to stand in your way. I shall strive to be as unlikeable as possible."

Lanyon sighed and pushed his hands up into his hair, resting his elbows on his knees. He cracked a wan smile, shook his head, and looked at Utterson for the first time.

"What would I do without you, Gabriel?" he asked.

"Moulder, presumably," said Utterson.

"You're horrendous," Lanyon said, rolling his eyes. With an effortful grunt, he levered himself to his feet and went to the window. He didn't so much fling the curtains open as tug them an inch apart, but it did plenty to brighten the room. He stood looking out for a time, his expression pinched and serious.

"If there's anything I can do," Utterson offered.

"I don't know that there is," Lanyon said. He shrugged helplessly. "Sometimes people simply—fall apart, I suppose. Perhaps it's best to let it happen."

"Hm," said Utterson. "I'll doubtless be . . . in the vicinity, as the exhibition approaches. Should you need anything to be taken care of in that general area."

Lanyon regarded him fondly. "Your attempts at circumlocution are clunky but appreciated," he said. He sighed, dropping his gaze. "But I don't think I shall be wanting anything from Jekyll. Now or ever. We—you and I played no small part in what happened. I think perhaps it's time we stepped away."

Clarity burst down over Utterson like the light of heaven. Lanyon must have been consumed by guilt over Jekyll's kidnapping; Utterson was in a similar position over the harm done to Mr. Guest. Of course Lanyon, being of a more excitable disposition, was taking it far harder and with considerably more dramatics than Utterson. Besides that, Lanyon considered himself Jekyll's mentor, and had always taken a certain amount of personal responsibility for his protégé. If Utterson could facilitate an exchange of forgivenesses, it would all be smoothed over and quickly forgotten. He, too, felt he ought to apologize to Jekyll, and while he was at it he might as well communicate that Lanyon was just as contrite. Tensions were already high due to the stress of the exhibition, but once that was done and over with, this little tiff would surely blow over like a summer thunderstorm.

"Perhaps," he said diplomatically.

"We should have left well enough alone, Gabriel," Lanyon said heavily, gazing out the window like a poet.

"Admittedly, he did tell us to," said Utterson, heat rising to his cheeks.

"No, long before that," said Lanyon. "Long before all of this . . . mess. I lost him fifteen years ago. I've just been too naïve to see it."

Utterson pursed his lips and chose not to comment on this. Instead, he got to his feet.

"Shall I stay to ensure you eat and sleep, or will you manage that on your own?" he asked.

Lanyon sighed. "I'll manage," he promised. He hesitated, then turned from the window and crossed to Utterson. "Thank you, Gabriel. I . . . I think I needed a bit of grounding."

Clasping his hand, Utterson said, "I shall ask Hopwood to bring you a heaping handful of dirt."

The smile that broke across Lanyon's face was fleeting, but genuine. He patted Utterson's hand.

"You truly are a treasure," he said. "Irksome, but a treasure."

"I'm your friend, Robert," he replied. "It's what we do."

It had taken Jasper the better part of three days, but he had made up his mind. He'd been avoiding the Society, and Rachel, and Jekyll, holed up in his room alone with his creatures and just trying to think. It hadn't been easy, and he still wasn't sure he was doing the right thing, but he was sure he was doing the best available thing.

He took a deep breath and knocked on Mrs. Cantilupe's door.

"Just a moment! On my way, just a moment!" she called from inside. There was a clatter, hurried footsteps, and the sound of at least four locks being drawn back. Mrs. Cantilupe threw open the door, frazzled and grinning. Her face fell when she caught sight of Jasper and the cartload of creatures behind him.

"Er, hi," he said.

"Mr. Kaylock," she said, concerned. "What's this about?"

He looked at his feet and rubbed his arm.

"W-well, see," he mumbled, "I'm—they're gonna need a place to stay, is all, and I thought, since all your and Miss Lavender's creatures got killed in the fire, you could have them. So long as you're—as you're good them, you've got to be good to them, because they're all very sweet and lovely, and—but that's sort of off the point."

"I'm sure we'd be happy to look after them," Mrs. Cantilupe said. "Are you . . . going somewhere?"

Jasper took a deep breath.

"I'm going back to my farm," he said. Despite the number of times he had rehearsed the words, they still stuck in his teeth. "I'm . . . leaving the Society. I'm leaving science. I can't—I can't do it. I don't want to do it anymore."

"Oh, Jasper," Mrs. Cantilupe said, pained.

"Please don't try to talk me out of it," he blurted, before she could get any farther. "Please, honestly, please don't. I've got to go. I've got to leave, and be done with it. But I need somebody to take care of all my creatures and I know you and Miss Lavender would be good to them and could use them for your cryptozoology and everything so I'm leaving them with you but please please don't try and talk me out of it because you will and then it'll just keep getting worse."

He sucked down a breath. His sinuses were stinging. Mrs. Cantilupe's gaze prickled on his face.

"Has Virginia gotten you a functional wolfsbane potion yet?" she asked.

"Not . . . quite," said Jasper.

"It might be good to get that before you head out," said Mrs. Cantilupe. "Just for safety's sake. I'm sure whoever's at your farm will appreciate it, too."

He looked up at her, welling over with gratitude. She was regarding him with pity, but also with understanding.

"Y-yeah," he said. "That's . . . a good idea. I'll—can I hand these over to you?"

"Of course, we'll bring them in," said Mrs. Cantilupe. "Miss Lavender is out hunting specimens, otherwise I'd have her help, too."

"That's all right, I'm sure we can manage."

Together, she and Jasper wrangled all the crates and cages into her lab. When they were all settled, Jasper hung about, looking all of them over. They were in good hands, he reminded himself.

Better hands than his, at any rate.

"Mr. Kaylock?" Mrs. Cantilupe said, breaking him from his reverie.

"Sorry," he said.

"It's all right," she said. "But before you go, may I ask you: why?"

Jasper bit his lip. It couldn't do much harm, certainly not more harm than had already been done. At least one person would know the truth.

"I'm just . . . I'm not used to this much attention," he admitted, rubbing his arm. "Or . . . any attention, really. And it's—it's really nice, it's really, really nice, but . . . it makes it hard to say no. Much too hard to say no. To anyone. Ever."

Mrs. Cantilupe's face cleared with understanding. She pursed her lips and put a protective hand on Christopher's cage.

"Mr. Kaylock, I promise you, Miss Lavender and I will take extraordinarily good care of these creatures," she said. "And, should you ever want to visit, or to resume your work, they will be here for you."

"Thanks," he said. "Honestly, thanks. I—I was worried people'd be . . . angry. About me leaving. About me . . . giving up."

"Anyone who is, is a fool and a bastard," said Mrs. Cantilupe. Jasper snorted.

"Thanks," he said again. "Will you—d'you think you could tell Rachel? I-it's just, it's hard enough as it is, and she'll want to know why, and—"

"Certainly," Mrs. Cantilupe said. "Would you like for me to wait until you've gone?"

"No, just . . . whenever you see her, I guess," he said.

"As you wish," she said. "And, for whatever it's worth, I'm terribly sorry. I do hope you'll come back someday. If not to us, then at least to crypto-biology. The field needs good people, and you are one."

"I'm not," Jasper said, shaking his head. "I'm—really, really not."

"Can I tell you a little secret, Mr. Kaylock?" Mrs. Cantilupe said. "Something I've learned in my seven decades."

"Yes?" he guessed.

She leaned in, a look of mischief on her wrinkled face.

"There's no such thing as good people," she said. "There's only people who learn from their mistakes, and people who don't."

He managed half a smile.

"I'll try to remember that," he said.

"Good luck, Mr. Kaylock. And take care, wherever your path takes you."

"Thanks," he said. "I'll try."

They both stood there for a moment. Jasper made a constrained gesture towards the cages.

"D'you mind if I . . . say goodbye?" he asked. The last word came out as a squeak, and pulled a pair of tears with it.

"Of course, dear," Mrs. Cantilupe said. "You take as long as you need."

Jasper sniffled. He sidled over and poked a finger through the bars of Christopher's cage. Christopher nibbled at him.

"Be good," Jasper said. "Be good, and don't—don't let anybody bully you, and eat your food, and don't light anybody's bed on fire when you're molting. All right? Be good, I mean it."

Christopher puffed up and shook out his wings. Jasper rubbed his cheek with one finger, sniffling. Christopher leaned into it for a moment, then got distracted and moved away. Jasper wiped his nose on the back of his hand, then crouched down and poked his hand into Mina the serpopard's carrier. She lifted her head sleepily and blinked at him.

"Hey," he said. "As for you. Be good, and look after Christopher, and. . . ."

"Jasper!"

He paused, turning back. He had only a couple of bags, which he was handing off to a cabbie. Rachel ran up to him and leaned her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

"Er," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hi."

"Mosley said you were leaving London," Rachel panted. "What's going on, what happened?"

"I, w-well," Jasper stammered, going red. "It's just . . . I don't think I'm cut out for this."

"This what?" Rachel cried. "You mean the Society? Jasper, you've been doing fantastically, it's just that things are all messed up right now. Everybody's having a rough time of it. I know it's stressful, but—"

"It's not—it's not that," said Jasper. "I just—sometimes you've just got to go home. It's all too much, being in the city like this, and everyone, and everything, and . . . I just want to go home. I just want to go back somewhere where things . . . make sense."

"Well, are you—are you coming back?" she asked helplessly.

He shrugged. "I dunno," he said. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Is it—Jasper, it's not something to do with Jekyll, is it?" Rachel said. "Because, if it is—"

"I really don't want to talk about it," he said, going crimson.

"Did he hurt you?" she demanded. "Because if he hurt you, I'll beat his stupid face in, I don't give a damn."

"No, he didn't—no," said Jasper. "It's really not him. Or—it's not completely him. It's everybody. Or maybe it's just me, I dunno. I don't want to be here anymore, that's all there is to it. I want to go home."

"You're at least taking your creatures though, right?" said Rachel. "You'll at least keep doing your science stuff, won't you?"

"Maybe," he said again. "Since all my notes got burned up, I was going to have to start over anyways, so . . . maybe. But I've left all my creatures with Mrs. Cantilupe and Miss Lavender, 'cause when I left, my Mum said I couldn't come back if I brought them."

"I don't s'pose there's anything I can do to change your mind?" she asked.

"No, I mean, there is," he said. "But please don't."

She looked at him for a long moment, at the discomfort and the shame and the pain, and decided she didn't want to.

"Could I at least have a goodbye hug?" she asked, aching right down to the bones.

Jasper fidgeted, and bit his lip, and rubbed the back of his neck, and in general looked like he was in so much distress that it was a wonder he didn't burst into tears.

"It's all right if not," she added gently.

He sagged, then glanced at her, then tipped his head in allowance.

"Maybe a—a see-you-later handshake," he said.

"Right," said Rachel, pleasantly surprised. "Yeah. That sounds good."

After a moment's awkward pause, she stuck out a hand. After a second's hesitation, Jasper shook it.

"So, see you later," he said.

"See you later," said Rachel.

He turned away, his hand slipping from hers. He climbed up into the cab and shut the door, then waved to her through the window. The cab started off. She watched it go until it turned a corner. She wrapped her arms around herself.

"See you later," she said again.

After just a moment more, she went back into the Society.

There were other people who still needed her.

Jekyll looked at Utterson as though he was a particularly tiresome dog who had followed him home.

"If this is about Lanyon, I'm not interested," he said.

"Why not?" Utterson said, too shocked for diplomacy.

"Because he's made it abundantly clear that he has no respect for me or anything I do," Jekyll said. "Now unless it's about the exhibition, go away."

He tried to shut the door in Utterson's face. Utterson caught it.

"What on earth happened between you two?" he demanded.

"A falling-out, Gabriel, clearly. Now if you will excuse me—"

"I won't," Utterson interrupted. Jekyll glared at him.

"Then I shall put it bluntly," Jekyll said. "What happened between Lanyon and me is none of your business."

"I'm your friend, Henry," Utterson said. "I'm trying to help."

"All your help has done so far is make things worse," Jekyll said. "I think I would prefer to do without it, thank you."

"I'm sorry," Utterson said. "And Lanyon is sorry. We ought to have listened to you about Hyde, we both admit that. I'm here to make reparations, whatever that may entail. Lanyon is taking things awfully hard—"

"I don't give a damn about Lanyon," Jekyll said.

Utterson blinked.

"Oh," he said.

"Whatever you're trying to do, Gabriel, whatever you're trying to accomplish, stop it," Jekyll continued. "I neither need nor want your help, except as it pertains to the success of the exhibition. While I'm grateful for all that you've done so far, in that regard, I can and will find someone else to handle it if you're incapable of keeping your nose out of my personal business."

"I—well," said Utterson, stung. "Of course, if you'd prefer—strictly professional interactions, then I can . . . accommodate."

"I would prefer that, yes," Jekyll said sweetly. "Seeing as your meddling in my personal life has unilaterally made a mess of things."

"I see," said Utterson, who did not. "In that case, I am . . . sorry to have disturbed you. And I will wish you a—a good day, Dr. Jekyll."

"Good day, Mr. Utterson," Jekyll said. He closed the door. Utterson stood there blinking for a good two minutes, trying and failing to understand what had just happened.

Miss Flowers wandered past the bottom of the stairs and saw him.

"Jekyll shut the door in your face?" she asked.

"Yes," Utterson said vaguely.

"He's been like that," she said, and continued on her way, shaking her head.

In the end, Utterson simply went away.

[seylennotes]

The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch with Jeffrey Zaslow

I have read this book many times in 2010, his words has left permanant values in my mind. So I reread the book again yesterday (years later) and I still love it. He is gone, but his inspiration will be always here.

You could say I love collecting words or saying that speak to me. So I compiles below my favorite saying from the book.

-"Here was a woman, having a child by accident that she surely would come to love. As for me, through the accident of cancer I'd be leaving three children to grow up without my love."

-"We cannot change the cards we are dealt, just how we play the hand."

-"My mother was a tough, old-school English teacher.. my dad was a World War II medic and he ran a small business which sold uto insurance."

-"In fact, growing up, i thought there were two typles of families:

1) those whoneed a dictionary to get through dinner.

2) Those who don't.

-"He'd also warn me that even if I was in a position of strength, whether at work or in relationships, I had to play fair. 'Just because you're in the driver's seat,doesn't mean you have to run people over."

-"Anybody out there who is a parent, if your kids want to paint their bedrooms, as a favor to me, let them do it. It'sll be OK."

-"Have something to bring to the table, because that will make you more welcome."

-"You've got to get the fundamentals down, because otherwise the fancy stuff is not going to work."

-"When you're screwing up and nobody says anything to you anymore, that means they've given up on you."

-"You give them something they can't do, they work hard until they find they can do it, and you just keep repeating the process."

-"What we really want them to learn is far more important: teamwork, perseverance, sportmanship, the value of hardwork, an ability to deal with adversity."

-"I don't believe in the no-win scenario."

-"The brick walls are there for a reason. They're not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something."

-"The park is open until 8 p.m."

-"Randy it's such a shame that people perceive you as being so arrogant, because it's going to limit what you're going to be able to accomplish in life."

-"People are more important than things"

-"I also want my niece and nephew to tell my kids a few things. First they can say simply that 'Your dad asked us to spend this time with you, just like he spent time with us.' I also hope they'll also explain to my kids how hard I fought to say alive. I signed up for the hardest treatments that could be thrown at me because I want to be around as long as possible to be there for my kids."

-"You can wlasy change your plan, but only if you have one."

-"HI, this is Randy, I waited until i was 39 to get married, so my wife and I are going away for a month. I hope you don't have a problem with that, but my boss does. Apparently, I have to be reachable. I then gave the names of Jai's parents and the city where they live. 'If you all directory assistance, you can get their number. And then, if you can convince my new in-law that your emergency merits interrupting their only daughter's honeymoon, they have our number."

-"Time is all you have. And you may find one day that you have less than you think."

-"Educators best serve students by helping them be more self-reflective."

-"If students in a particular group were standing close together, I knew they had bonded, and that the virtual world they created would be something worth seeing."

-"If I have to die, I am comforted by having Alice as a professional legacy."

-"I understand the arguments about how he billions of dollars spent to put men on the moon could have been used to fight poverty and hunger on earth. But, look, I'm a scientist who sees inspiration as the ultimate tool for doing good."

-"Life is too short. Somehow, with the passage of time, and the deadlines that life imposes, surrendering became the right thing to do."

-"Complaining does not work as a strategy. We all have finite time and energy. Any time we spend whining is unlikely to help us achieve our goals. And it won't make us happier."

-"What if we did A, instead of B?"

-"Almost everybody has a good side. Just keep waiting. It will come out."

-"Just ignore everything they say and only pay attention to what they do."

-"It's not how hard you hit. It's how hard you get hit.. and keep moving forward."

-"First penguin are losers who were difinitely going somewhere."

-"We don't want to create somethingthat people will want to destroy."

-"Go out and do for others what somebody did for you."

-"If I do something, what's the most terrible thing that could happen? Would I be eaten by a wolves?"

-"Halfhearted or insincere apologies are often worse than not apologizing at all because recipints find them insulting."

-"There is more than one way to measure profits and losses. On every level, institutions can and should have a heart."

-"If you're going to be a salesman, you might as well be selling something worthwhile, like education."

-"With all the deference my young, arrogant self could muster, I said 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply it was about money. It's just that they only awarded fifteen of these fellowship nationwide, so I thought it is an honor that would be relevant, and I apologize if that was presumptuos of me."

-"Everyone has to contribute to the common good. TO not do so can be described in one word: selfish."

-"Whenn we are connected to others, we become better people."

-"Sometimes all you have to do is ask."

-"She is too young. But I want her to grow up knowing that I was the first man ever to fall in love with her."

-"I love all three of my kids completely and differently. And I want them to know that I will love them for as long as they live. I will."

-"Kids, don't try to figure out what I wanted you to become. I want you to become what you want to become."

-"I've also reminded her that she's going to make mistakes and to just accept that. If I were able to live, we'd be making those mistakes together."

-"It's about how to lead your life. If you lead your life the right way, the karma will take care of itself. The dream will come to you."