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youarejesting · 3 years

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Sly like a... ? Part 2

[Master list] [Sly Master List] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story. Words: 2.1k

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

[First] [Next]

It was your dream to convert a large warehouse on the outskirts of town into a home and education center for Hybrids. Somewhere they could learn to be self-sufficient. You would have professors and volunteers, teaching and fundraising, all for the day you could buy another warehouse on the other side of town. You wanted it to become the norm that these Hybrid facilities would build and grow in every city. Allowing the Hybrids to become an independent race no longer looked down upon by society.

You were on the last day of your heat and craving something savory. As it was late your best option was the convenience store that was always open late.

Things were falling into place as you received an email earlier that day confirming that all the items you had requested were acquired. That meant school books, equipment, and more. You were also granted the first loan for the Hybrids, a loan you would receive every term. The board wanted no less than five and no more than ten participants for an adequate examination of results.

You assumed for the program to be officially approved, you would have to show successful results from Hybrids with different backgrounds during this trial. That meant different ages and different upbringings. Wondering if it was worth visiting the adoption agency or perhaps a Hybrid store, it wouldn’t hurt for more variables.

Shaken from your thoughts by a shadowed figure rustling through the garbage, in a dark alley between the antiques and postal office. Your ears picked up the sound easily, feet scuffing to a halt on the pavement catching the Hybrid’s attention. Their eyes searched the dark for any sign of threat before falling upon you, a deep growl resonating on the wind. It was best to not get involved with stray Hybrids, they tended to be more violent. This is what you were doing the program for, to stop Hybrids from ending up homeless and on the streets. To prove that they aren’t dangerous and are capable of learning.

Struck by an idea, if you could get a Hybrid from the street to join the trial program, you could prove they weren’t violent and show that given the opportunity they could all learn and grow into members of society.

“Can I buy you dinner?” You called out, voice cracking from the cold. Your breath puffed out like smoke visible between you both. The night brought you more energy, it made you feel alive.

Cars passed, their headlights illuminating the entire alleyway and reflecting in his eyes a blood-red. He stalked forward, his body moving gracefully but you could see he was hurt, his shirt ripped and there was a strong scent of blood in the breeze. That was a downside to having heightened senses. You tried to control the disgusted look on your face, “I will pay and there is nothing else to it, just sit and have dinner with me, so I don’t look like a woman in her mid to late twenties eating alone at a convenience store”

He looked you up and down, it was then you noticed his features, he was a feline, not a common house cat. No, he was a big predator.

“Do I look like some charity case? Some pathetic creature who needs help from a human?” His words rumbled from his chest in a growl. You wanted to correct him that you weren’t exactly human yourself but decided against it. Stuck somewhere between Hybrid and human you didn’t fit in either category.

“What’s it to you? My reason is my reason, just take the free meal. Hell! Exploit me for a free meal, anything you want, go crazy.” You shrugged, trying desperately to charm him. He seemed to contemplate his choices for a moment before turning to walk away. You scrambled for your wallet and grabbed out twenty dollars, holding it out to him.

“Wait! At least take this; if you don’t want to eat with me, get something warm, and here is my card if ever you need help.”

He eyed the money but didn’t move to take it. Hoping he wouldn’t rip your arm off, you grabbed his hand. You knew it was risky. His fingers were cold, but you didn’t want to linger and make him mad, quickly placing the money on his palm with your business card.

“Have a good night, mister,” He nodded confused about the whole encounter, before shoving his hands in his pockets and leaving. It seemed even if you tried your best, it wouldn’t be enough to persuade him. He was too defensive, the best you could hope for was that he would stay safe in the cold.

What trials and tribulations must you go through to have these Hybrids trust and confide in you? Hopefully, it wouldn’t be this hard to get through to the group of Hybrids you were soon to obtain.

This was going to be a rather difficult experiment and you weren’t sure if it was going to go well but you hoped with every fiber of your being that you would see this through for the sake of the Hybrids.

That night you dreamed about the group of participants being hostile and unresponsive to the program, it did little to soothe your nerves the next morning. When you received an email about the new house. Jimin would have the key and would meet you outside later that day with the other Hybrids. No matter who they were, you were going to make sure they were achieving the best result they could.

The government had registered two Hybrids in your name, their files attached to the confirmation email. The two participants were so contrasting, Hoseok was a deer Hybrid, from a small farming family. The other was a Lion Hybrid by the name of Namjoon. He was from New Zealand and had participated in another government program regarding genius Hybrids.

Altogether, there were four: Namjoon the genius, Hoseok the country bumpkin, Taehyung, and Jimin. You decided to look for possible participants within the Hybrid store, and rehoming center. That would give you a wide variety of variables for the experiment; each would have a different background and would require different tools to help them.

You started at the nearest Hybrid shop. There were several rooms each with an observation window, a photo card, and a brief description of the Hybrid sitting, reading or playing video games inside. It was such a small space, how could they live in these tiny rooms every day until someone adopted them. Reading their descriptions by the windows you analyzed each of them, your attention caught by one playing video games. He had dark ears that stuck out from his dark hair. He seemed fun and you thought it would be easy to connect with him.

Hello, My name is Jungkook, I am twenty-three and I am a fully vaccinated Melanistic Jaguar.

You didn’t bother reading the rest, thinking you would like to learn about him properly, “Sir, I would like to adopt this Hybrid,” You declared, whilst walking towards the counter to begin the paperwork. Once everything was signed the young Jaguar boy was led from his small room. He looked nervous holding a small store backpack filled with all his essential items.

On the drive to the next location, you were the one doing most of the talking, receiving quiet one-word answers and small fidgets. He seemed excited when you finally parked the car, you guessed he was eager to see his new home.

However, as you walked towards the menacing rehoming center, he grew quieter and quieter, slowing to a stop before the entrance. Looking at his feet crying profusely, you realized how this must look. He must have thought he had done something wrong, how could he think you would buy him and rehome him on the same day.

“Jungkook, I am not abandoning you, I am picking up a brother for you to play with.” It took a few moments to console the young man. Wiping his tears and giving him a few pats on the head careful of his ears.

Deciding anyone younger than Jungkook would be too much to handle. “You have to help me find a big brother, someone you think will be really nice and that you like to play with, what do you think? Can you do that for me?”

Jungkook nodded, sniffing and wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “Okay, I can do that,”

The inside of the rehoming center smelt like disinfectant, you explained you were looking for another Hybrid and were led to a large room. There were Hybrids of all ages all playing and entertaining themselves with different activities.

It was overwhelming even for you, so you grasped Jungkook’s hand and encouraged him to look around, “Hey, what about ping pong?” You grinned at Jungkook who smiled playing a few rounds with you, the two of you giggling.

“Have I told you I am the ping pong master,” an older Hybrid grinned, he had a striped tail. You handed over the paddle and stood near Jungkook. “Do you want to play a game?”

Jungkook nodded, was this boy unable to say no. Either way, the two were getting along quickly, the older Hybrid was very playful and funny, even as he lost you were holding your sides from the laughter and Jungkook seemed to grow really comfortable with him.

Talking to one of the volunteers she explained that Seokjin was a raccoon hybrid and the oldest in the center. She explained that he often took the younger hybrids under his wing. It was an easy decision to adopt him. While you were filling out the paperwork, Jungkook was telling you all about his match with Seokjin.

“And I got the winning shot,” He grinned, swinging his arm like he was hitting an invisible ping pong ball.

“He seems really fun, would he make a good big brother?” It was cute how he nodded wholeheartedly. “Jungkook why don’t you go tell him that he is coming home with us?”

He grew embarrassed again, his dark ears twitching but followed the volunteer nonetheless. You were quick to finish up the last of the paperwork before the two came back laughing volunteer in tow.

“Unbelie-Bubble” Seokjin said before squeaking in laughter. He had all of his things and like Jungkook was nervous, but he showed it through talking.

You felt good with your selection, there was a Hybrid for every walk of life and socio-economic background. This would be perfect for the trial. They all seemed like lovely young Hybrids and you could already see them forming friendships.

It was on your way out that you saw a familiar face struggling against Hybrid control. “This is your last time, you know what happens to strays.”

“Wait!” You shouted, everyone in the lobby froze turning to look at you, the cold room felt quite warm with all of the attention “He is mine”

They froze looking between you and the hybrid before letting him go curiously. The injured Hybrid staggered over to you, knowing this was his best chance at survival, “why didn’t you tell them my name?” you asked him curiously but he kept his head down.

“This white tiger Hybrid is yours?” The handler spoke in disbelief, practically accusing you of lying. “why is he not microchipped, or registered in our system?”

“I was supposed to register him last week when I got him but I had been busy with work, I would like to properly register him under my name today,” You didn’t break under this man's pressure, you could notice the more he held eye contact the more he seemed to falter himself. “so that you will stop taking him in when he is harmlessly walking the streets”

The man opened his mouth to argue but you blinked up at him, watching him lower his hand.

“I am so sorry miss, we didn't mean to cause you trouble?” It wasn’t exactly odd behavior, you often found your arguments nullifying this way. You liked to think that your self-confident stare was what made people give in.

“Miss we have just noticed some suspicious activity in your account it says you have adopted four Hybrids today,” The woman behind the desk said, “We are legally required to ask your intentions or we can detain the Hybrids from you”

Almost questioning her, you remembered the government was placing two Hybrids in your name; they would be arriving today as well. With a smile you removed a folder from your bag, “I have a grant from the government.” You said brandishing the signed document, “I will be placing these Hybrids in my care”

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pumpkinpatchkid · 3 years

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Late Night Stories

Pairing: Lucifer x G!Neutral Reader

Rating: G (soft fluff)

Warnings: Mentions of death (possible spoilers if you don’t know what happened to Lilith)

Your stomach churned as you felt your D.D.D vibrate in your pocket once again. It felt like the thousandth time today – most likely another congratulatory text on your one hundredth day in Devildom. You knew you should be happy about it, the stay, the opportunity for the exchange, the people you’ve met… But the gut-wrenching hole within your body prevented that. You wanted to go home. Even for just a day. You sighed and put your head in your hands as the lesson dragged on. The last one of the day… Then maybe I can talk to Lucifer.

You took a deep breath and straightened yourself in your chair, fighting off the blush at the thought of the first demon brother and attempted to busy yourself with note taking. With only a few lines written and your head a blur, the bell finally signalled the end of class, and the day in RAD. Jumping from your seat and haphazardly throwing your belongings into your bag, you practically sprinted from the building.

Your walk home was the same as usual. Quiet, peaceful and-

“Yo!! Y/N! Slow down, ya damn human!” You heard Mammon call from behind you. You sighed heavily and slowed to a stop and Mammon ran up panting from behind you.

“Mammon, why’re you so out of breath?” You asked, tilting your head and quirking your eyebrow. Mammon blushed heavily and avoided eye contact, muttering something about ‘dumb human curiosity’ under his breath.

“I-It’s not like I was trying to catch up with ya okay? Just drop it, ‘kay?” He huffed and grabbed your arm, before joining you on your journey back to the House of Lamentation.

“Say, Mammon?” You looked over at him after a little while of silence. He hummed and glanced at you in acknowledgement.

“You... You don’t know if Lucifer is coming home earlier today, do you?” You asked, looking at your feet. Mammon let out a growl at your question.

“Why would I care where he is? Probably off hiding my precious baby Goldie again.” He pouted and stopped talking, most likely overrun with fantasies about his beloved credit card. You rolled your eyes to yourself. Should’ve known Mammon wouldn’t be any help.

You both reached home pretty quickly, glad that the now awkward silence was broken as you entered the building. Mammon mentioned getting ready for something and you waved your hand to him before making your way to the kitchen. Unsurprisingly Beel was raiding the fridge, and nearly jumped out of his skin when you brushed past him to get yourself a glass of water.

“Welcome back, Y/N!” Beel greeted after swallowing a mouthful of who knew what. You smiled slightly at the sweet demon before you and took a sip of your beverage. A slight frown made its way onto the fiery haired male and he tilted his head.

“Is everything okay? Are you hungry?” He asked. You couldn’t help but giggle quietly and shake your head.

“I’m fine, Beel. I just need to talk to Lucifer is all. Do you know when he’ll be back?” You asked softly, tracing your finger around the rim of the glass in your other hand. His shoulders slumped, as if disappointed and shrugged.

“Sorry, Y/N, I’m not sure...” He responded quietly, earning a sincere nod and a smile from you. You patted his arm reassuringly and reached up to ruffle his hair a little.

“Thank you anyway, Bub. I’m going to take a nap, school was exhausting. I’ll see you later, okay?” You smiled before turning to exit the room. He bid his farewells as you ascended the stairwell to your room, and you let out a heavy sigh as you shut the door. You slipped out of the RAD uniform and into your sleepwear before collapsing on your bed, nuzzling into the pillows, taking no time at all to drift into a dreamless sleep.

By the time you woke up, it was darker than black outside your window. You grumbled to yourself and rubbed your eyes, sitting up and looking at your clock. 3:01AM. You groaned internally once again before standing up and stretching. Surely Lucifer has to be home by now…

You made your way through the lengthy halls to Lucifer’s room and knocked quietly. You heard nothing and after a brief hesitation you knocked once again, a little louder than before. Nothing again. Where on earth could he be?

You wandered the house in search for the man in question to no avail. You ran your hands through your hair and rubbed your face, about to give up, until a little lightbulb in your head went off. You walked quietly to the stairs of the crypt before pausing. It’s better than nothing, I suppose… You took a deep breath before taking a shaky step down the flight into the dungeon like room beneath the house.

Candles were lit down the staircase, and throughout the vast room, you’d noticed as you reached the bottom. You looked around the room to spot a tall figure in dark clothing stood by Lilith’s makeshift resting place. Lucifer…

He straightened his body, signalling he’d noticed your presence, but didn’t move from his spot. You approached him silently and stood next to him.

“It’s not like you to be up this late, Y/N.” He spoke softly, eyes never leaving the intricately carved stone before him.

“I just miss home, is all… I’d like to go back soon, just for a day.” You answered honestly, your eyes joining his in the same spot – you knew how he felt about his little sister, and with what he had confessed to you and the rest of the brothers, burdened himself with an inhuman amount of guilt for it. He nodded wordlessly and a thick silence fell over the pair of you. You both stayed like that for perhaps an hour, although it was nice. Comforting, even.

“Where I’m from… It’s a little village…” You spoke softly, as if not to startle the demon.

“It was built generations ago, by a stunning young woman. She always helped where she could as the village grew. She learned to cook the most amazing foods for those who weren’t fortunate enough to have meals on the table that night. She learned to heal those who weren’t fortunate enough so seek medical care. She was truly the purest being in that village. She learned how to cut wood and farm to help people lacking in manpower. She took care of children for those who were too busy attempting to provide for their family. There was a young man, new to the village who fell for her beauty, inside and out. She fell for him too.” You looked over at Lucifer, who seemed to have a glint in his eye – you knew he was listening.

“They married not long after and started a family of their own. He took it upon himself to aid her in protecting and caring for the village and made sure to spare plenty of time for his children. Everybody loved and praised her. Nobody ever said anything bad about her. It stayed that way until she was too old and frail to continue. When her time came, she was surrounded by her loving husband, children and grandchildren, all by her bedside. The village gathered around her house to say goodbye to the woman they adored and cherished… She died peacefully with a heart full of love. At her funeral they erected a statue of her. They did it so that she’d live forever in the hearts of the villagers, so they wouldn’t forget how they prospered. We still talk about her and celebrate her life to this day…” You finished softly.

“Why’re you telling me this?” Lucifer asked, just as soft. After building your courage throughout the story, you slipped your hand into his.

“Lilith.” You whispered. “Her name was Lilith.”

The grip Lucifer hand on your hand tightened, and you felt his body begin to tremble against your own. You felt your heart break with each tear that silently rolled down Lucifer’s pale cheeks and opened your mouth to comfort him. Before anything came out, however, your vision was clouded in black, and a pair of long arms encircled you. Lucifer clung to you as he buried his head into the crook of your neck, allowing his tears to fall freely for the first time in millennia, and for the first time ever in front of someone else. You simply pulled him impossibly closer, running a hand through his raven locks and pressed your face close to his, your other hand rubbing his back soothingly. He gripped at the back of your nightwear as if he were a child clinging to his mother, and his sobs wracked his body, even though they remained silent. You moved your hand from his hair to rest at the nape of his neck and the hand on his back moved to rub small circles on his broad shoulders. Under any other circumstance, you wouldn’t have ever wanted this to end – the Avatar of Pride was showing you his vulnerable side, seeking comfort in you…

His tears gradually dried, and his shaking frame steadied again, but it seemed Lucifer felt the same way, still holding you close with his head buried into the juncture of your neck. You smiled softly at the heat of his breath steadily fanning across your exposed skin, but instantly flushed a rich pink as a pair of soft lips replaced his breath. Lucifer just… k-kissed me?! Pulled away ever so slightly to take a look at him when he bowed his head to place another kiss on your cheek.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He whispered, before kissing your nose. Has crying made him lose his mind? What is going on?! Your mouth opened and shut, a few syllables being stammered, but you just couldn’t find the right words.

“Thank you for letting me know she was still the good person myself and my brothers loved…” He whispered, face still mere inches away from your own. Your heart melted at his thanks and you nodded softly.

“I love that about you, always knowing the right things to say… And will continue to love you for as long as I can, and thanks for tonight.” He spoke soft and sweet to you, his eyes full of sincerity, as he stroked a strand of hair out of your face. He really means it? He loves me?...

“L-Lucifer, I…” You started, but he cut you off with his own lips. They were unusually soft, and the kiss was tender, rendering you unable to do anything but melt into the affection and return the feelings, more than happily and with a newfound confidence. Lucifer was the first to pull away, gazing down at you with a sparkle in his glassy eyes.

“Come. Stay with me tonight. We can get up early to speak with Diavolo of a day trip back to your home.” He smiled and slipped together your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. It was your turn for your eyes to fill with tears, accepting his hold and followed after him to the stairs.

“I shall be coming with you, of course. I’d like to pay my respects.” He smiled softly as he led you to his room for the night. You lit up at the proposal and nodded, stopping the pair of you before you opened the door.

“I’d want nothing more.” You whispered, before reaching up and pressing a soft kiss of your own onto his lips.

Maybe it’s not so bad here after all.

#shall we date obey me #shall we date lucifer #lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer #obey me x reader #lucifer x gneutral reader #lucifer x you

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onlyhenrys · 4 years

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What a Plot Twist you were

What a Plot Twist you were - Chapter 3

Summary: The one time Walter’s feelings are genuine, destiny has to destroy certain aspects

Word Count: 1.6K

Warning: None

Thank you @iloveyouyen for being my lovely friend and for beta’ing this story and thank you @penwieldingdreamer for making this beautiful cover <3

Not a basic Soulmate AU

Catch up with the story: here

Happy Birthday to my amazing soul sister @promptandpros , since this was your request I figured that you would like an update on your special day <3

You leaned back on the couch, a glass of wine raised against your lips, your painted lips leaving a mark on the rim of the glass. The detective would pick you up in 10 minutes and you needed the alcohol to calm your nerves. It’s been a week since the event at the warehouse, so it was only a matter of time until the police would find the corpses and follow the trace that led back to you. You were living on borrowed time and you would live them to the maximum. It’s why you decided to call the detective, his business card burning in your back pocket everywhere you went.

The little card in your hand was shaking as you quietly recalled the numbers to yourself, before pressing on the green horn. It rang a few times when you heard a familiar click, and a low voice answered

‘’Marshall.’’

Your mouth curved into a smile and you crossed your legs. ‘’Hello, detective.’’

A sharp intake of breath sounded on the other side of the line and his voice was a lot lighter when he answered. ‘’Hello, stranger.’’

You bit on the nail of your thumb, ‘’What are you up to, tonight?’’

He chuckled, the low sound sending a shiver through your body. ‘’Are you always this straightforward?’’

‘’Only for you, detective.’’

‘’Mmhm,’’ his voice dropped even lower and you heard his fingers move on his keyboard, ‘’looks like my schedule just magically cleared itself, so I guess I’m free.’’

You shook your head as a chuckle escaped from your lips. ‘’Magically, huh?’’ You bit your lip. ‘’7 PM at my place, does that work for you?’’

‘’7 PM it is, beautiful, see you tonight.’’

You gracefully rose from the couch when you heard the sound of an engine parking and gazed down through the large window, watching quietly as the detective dragged a hand through his messy curls before skipping up the steps to the front door.

You were glad to live on the top floor, giving you a little more time to collect yourself as you waited for the large man to knock on the door. You caught a glance of yourself in the body length mirror and looked at your clothes for the evening. A black dress clung to your body, ending just above your ankles, a piece of skin visible by a low cut thigh slit, your feet covered with a pair of black heels. Your raven-haired curls were styled halfway up, halfway down, and fell down your back like a dark blanket.

A small dimple appeared in your cheek as you pressed your red lips together, forming a thin line when you heard the sound of someone approaching. Your hand reached the doorknob and turned it, revealing the detective in his full glory. You leaned back against the doorframe and crossed your arms, checking him out. He had cleaned up nicely, even though his hair was still a curly mess on top of his head.

He had switched his usual sweater for an open plaid button-down shirt, skinny jeans hugging his thighs and ass in just the right places.

“Hello there,” you smirked, “you cleaned up pretty well.”

His laugh thundered through the hallway and you took your time to admire his long neck as he threw his head back in amusement. “And here I was, thinking that you quite liked my messy appearance.”

‘’You have no idea,’’ you mumbled under your breath before closing the door behind you, eager to get away from your apartment.

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

‘’I can’t believe you did that,’’ you giggled, leaning forward, ‘’the poor man must be terrified.’’

Walter watched you through his lashes, a fond smile on his face. ‘’It definitely wasn’t his lucky day.’’ He cleared his throat and leaned back against his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest. ‘’But enough about my job, tell me more about you.’’

You took a bite of your dessert, moaning softly as the chocolate melted in your mouth. ‘’What do you want to know?’’

He shook his head at your reaction towards the dessert, reaching forward to steal a bite from your plate. You shot him a deathly stare, slapping his hand away. ‘’Don’t you dare touch my chocolate, detective.’’

Walter chuckled, ‘’ don’t mess with a woman’s chocolate.’’

You pointed your spoon at him. ‘’Don’t forget that.’’

He held up his hands in surrender, his lips twitching. ‘’Stop trying to distract me, you cruel woman. I want to know everything about you, but share whatever you’re comfortable with.’’

You looked down and smirked. ‘’There isn’t much to tell to be honest,’’ you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, ‘’I grew up with my parents and brother on a small farm on the countryside of the UK.’’ You shrugged, ‘’it was pretty boring.’’

He tilted his head, intrigued. ‘’How did you end up here in Minneapolis?’’

You averted your eyes and started to fumble with one of the rings on your fingers. You, ending up in Minneapolis was a story that you would rather not share with him yet, so you settled for half the truth. ‘’I followed someone here, someone very important to me.’’

Walter took a sip of his drink, his gaze never wavering from yours. ‘’Do I need to worry about that someone?’’

You almost laughed out loud at that but quickly swallowed it, settling for a small smile instead. ‘’No, not anymore.’’

His blue eyes burned as he opened his mouth to respond, ‘’’Wha - ‘’

He was cut off as his phone started ringing and he sighed, sending you an apologetic look. ‘’I have to take this.’’

You gestured that he could go ahead and he answered while you leaned back against the chair, studying the man in front of you as he listened to the person that was talking to him. On the outside, the detective gave the impression that he would rip your head off with one look, while on the inside he was just a big softie, looking for someone to share his life with.

Your mind wandered back to the night that you spend together.

You panted slightly, a thin layer of sweat covering your spine as you laid on your stomach, watching the beautiful man next to you as he tried to catch his breath. ‘’For someone who claims to be out of practice, you managed pretty well.’’

He gave you a weird look. ‘’Thanks, I guess?’’

You turned to your side and started to trace patterns on his arm. He released a breath and leaned closer into your touch, closing his eyes. The frown between his eyebrows eased as you cupped his face, his scruff rough against your fingers. He opened his eyes and took you in before covering you with the blankets, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

‘’Get some sleep.’’

You watched as he turned on his back and stared at the ceiling, his arms crossed in front of his chest. ‘’It’s okay to touch me, you know,’’ you giggled, poking him in the ribs, ‘’I won’t bite.’’

His lips twitched. “Most women don’t, but I’m not so sure about you.”

He shifted anyway and pulled you closer against his chest before burying his nose in your neck. You closed your eyes and relaxed against his chest, waiting until sleep claimed you.

Sleep claimed him first and you lay in silence, listening to his deep and even breaths. You knew that what you were doing was unfair to him, as you were never able to give him what he deserved, but it was too late to pull back now. The connection was already made.

You held your breath as he shifted against you, afraid that you accidentally voiced your thoughts out loud, but he didn’t wake up. He mumbled something too soft for you to understand and tightened his grip around your waist, holding onto you like a lifeline.

You carefully turned to face him, and brushed a curl away from his face. His eyelashes dusted against his cheekbones as he was lost to his dreams. You leaned up and pressed a kiss on his cheek in an apology before laying back down, letting sleep consume you.

“Yeah, no, it’s not a problem,” Walter dragged a hand through his hair, messing up the curls on top of his head, “I will be at the station as soon as I can, okay?” He hung up the phone and turned back towards you, his eyes dark with regret.

“I’m sorry, I - “

You held up your hand, stopping him mid-sentence. “It’s okay, I understand. Duty calls.”

He sighed in relief and leaned over the table, pressing a lingering kiss against your cheek. “I will make it up to you, I promise.” He rose from his chair and shrugged on his jacket. “I will call you as soon as I’m finished, don’t go to sleep yet, alright?”

You looked up at him, smiling softly. “I will wait up, I promise,” you pointed towards the door, “now go, don’t let them wait.”

He shot you one last lingering gaze before nodding to himself, moving away from you towards the exit. You watched him go before slamming the table in frustration. It wasn’t supposed to go like this, you were supposed to have more time with him.

You took a sharp breath and pushed yourself away from the table. The police caught up quicker than you thought they would, but they didn’t calculate you, into their investigation.

Your heels clicked against the pavement as you searched your purse for your phone, quickly dialing a familiar number.

“Hello?” His voice was heavy, coated with sleep and you felt bad about disturbing him, but you knew that your next words would wake him up.

“Asher? It’s time.”

#walter marshall #henry cavill #what a plot twist you were #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #walter marshall x female reader #night hunter #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #walter marshall angst

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managingmymuse · 3 years

Text

employment

for writer's month day 2: coffeeshop AU

(original work, time-traveler universe)

No one in my family had ever really had a job.

We worked, of course. Running the farm was an entire summer's worth of back-breaking labor. Our portion of the homestead, too, required a lot of work to keep and maintain. When we were away, in another town or another century, we took on odd jobs to keep ourselves fed. In the pre-industrial age, my mother and sister and I took on laundry and mending, while my brother and my father hired themselves out as hands. Sometimes we'd stay for a week, other times for a whole season, but no matter where or when we were, there was always work to be found.

But that was the pre-industrial age. I was beginning to discover that the twentieth century was a lot harder to work around.

"Do you have your social security card?" the woman behind the counter asked.

I was standing in the pleasantly blank hallways of a large department store. The carpet was a dingy peach, and the walls had a magic-eye-like pattern to them. The faint sounds of classical music drifted through the air, piped in from a speaker that I hadn't yet been able to locate.

I shifted uneasily on my feet. "My what?"

"Your social security card," she said. "It's a blue card about this big." She held up her thumb and forefingers about three inches apart. "It's a government document."

"I don't think I have one," I said slowly.

The woman behind the counter popped her gum. "Sure you do. Everyone has one. It's probably at your parents' house."

"Right," I said, already thinking of how I could lay my hands on someone else's. "Can I call them and get back to you?"

"You sure can." The woman blew another bubble and removed the clipboard containing my half filled out job application. "You don't need to start today, do you?"

"I can't start without the card?" I asked. "Really?"

"Yeah," she said. She gave me a sympathetic smile. "It's corporate policy. We get in big trouble if we hire you without it. But don't worry, we've got tons of available positions. Come back with it by next week, and we'll start you on the floor. Okay?"

I pressed my hands flat against the counter, struggling to take deep breaths. "I don't think I'm going to be able to get the card that fast," I said. "My parents... they live out of state."

"They haven't lost it, have they?"

I shrugged. "I have no idea."

The woman stared at me over the counter. Her jaw worked furiously, but her eyes held sympathy. "You can always write to the records office where you were born if your mom can't find it," she said. "Though that's going to take longer."

"I really need this job," I said. "I can't... I don't know if I can wait a week.

The woman tilted her head to the side. I don't know if she sensed my desperation or not, but she must have felt bad for me, because she pressed up on her toes, looking out into the empty hall behind me before rummaging around on the counter for a piece of paper.

"Okay," she said. "You didn't hear this from me, but I've got a friend in town. Her name's Sherri. She owns a little place down by the university. Java and Jams. You ever heard of it?"

I shook my head, and the woman wrote down an address. "Sherri's got a bit of a bleeding heart. You tell her you've got no papers, and she'll probably take you on."

"You think she has a job for me?"

"Fall term is set to start in another week," the woman said. "I know she's got a job from you." She smiled brightly. "Tell her Karen sent you."

"Karen," I said.

She pointed to her name tag and smiled again. "That's right. You take care now, dear. And if you do get your card and you still want to a job, well, give me a call."

She extended a card to me along with the paper she'd written the address on.

"I... thank you," I said.

"No trouble," she said.

Behind me, the sound of footsteps heralded the arrival of someone else. Karen straightened up, smoothing her vest down over her shirt. "Well, miss, if that will be all?"

I glanced at the corner, and a man, heavy-set and wearing a thick tie, came into view. Karen's manager, if the squinty look in his eye and his name badge was to believed. "Thanks for your help," I said, before disappearing down the crowded aisles of the store.

It was a forty minute walk from the mall to the university district in the center of town. On an ordinary day, I would have hated it. But today it gave me some time to think.

Some time to think about how screwed I was, that is. I'd been in the 1985 for three days now, and already my supply of emergency rations was running dry. I hadn't planned to come here, so I didn't have any kind of modern currency on my person. Before my jump, I'd been in pre-colonial America, and the things the Iroquois had traded-- corn and squash and tobacco-- wouldn't get me anything here.

(Also, they were precious difficult to carry; say what you will about the modern capitalist economy, but it did make emergency funds easy to carry around).

I'd lucked into a place to stay, an apartment that was, blessedly, vacant. But if the calendar on the wall was to be believed, the professors that lived there would be coming back, and soon. I had to find a new place to stay, and enough money to buy it with. Not to mention a little extra to buy some food to eat.

My stomach rumbled even as I thought about it, and the sound tempted me to just jump home. To find a nice, shadowy alleyway, cross my fingers, and jump. But even as my stomach begged me to do it, my mind pulled back on the idea.

It wasn't that I didn't have the juice for it; after three days' rest, I had the stamina to jump back five hundred years at least, let alone a paltry one hundred. But the last time I'd jumped, Micah had found me. Not after an hour or a day or a week, but immediately. Within moments of my arrival.

I supposed I was lucky he hadn't turned up here. That I hadn't turned a corner and run smack into him. But even though I was in the clear-- for now-- I couldn't help but worry that by jumping to the Homestead, I was endangering everyone within it. Turning our only safe haven into a trap we couldn't escape.

A shiver rolled down my spine, even in the afternoon spine. I'd jumped with with Micah literally on top of me that last time. His knee had held me down while his hands wrapped around my neck. If I'd been anyone else-- my brother, or my mother, even -- I'd be dead now. I would have been too drained from the last jump to jump away.

But I was a freak among freaks. Damaged almost too far for repair. I screamed and kicked and fought, and somehow I drew in just enough air to pull it down into my middle. To speak the words to send me away.

I hadn't been terribly concerned with where at the time. I certainly hadn't been thinking of 1985. But apparently my subconscious was ready for hair bands and spandex, because here I was.

It wasn't a bad place to be, I told myself, as I turned onto the coffee shop's street. It could have been worse.

The coffee shop was tucked away in a Tudor-style building that looked more like a home than a shop. Though it stood on a relatively busy street, it had a front garden fit for the suburbs. Wildflowers grew in great plumes on either side of the walk. A sign hanging from a wooden post in the yard read "Java and Jams."

I sighed and started for the door.

At nearly four o'clock in the afternoon, the place was almost empty. A man sat behind a bistro table in a corner reading a book and nursing a cup of coffee. A woman with frizzy red hair in a bun swept the floor in the middle of the room.

She looked up when I entered and set the broom down. "Need an afternoon pick me up?" she asked. "Today's special is the Colombian blend."

I wrinkled my nose. "No, no thank you. Are you Sherri?"

She wiped her hands on her apron, red and splattered with what looked like foam. "Who's asking?"

"I'm Allison," I said, putting a hand over her chest. "Karen sent me. From the mall."

Sherri tilted her head to the side, and the resemblance between the women instantly resolved itself. Sisters. They were sisters. "You looking for a job?"

"If you're hiring," I said. "I didn't see a sign."

"I don't advertise much," Sherri said. She sighed and moved behind the counter. "What was wrong with the mall? Don't you want to work in that over air-conditioned tundra?"

I risked a smile and stepped closer. "Karen said she would hire me if I came back with my social security card," I said. "But I... I don't think I have one."

Sherri's eyes flashed wide in alarm. She glanced over my shoulder at the man in the corner. He was still deeply absorbed in his book. "Well then. Have you ever worked in a coffee shop before?"

I suspected that doling out cups to hungry miners in California didn't count. "I've done some food service before with my family," I said. "But not coffee."

"Well." Sherri sucked on her teeth, looking me up and down. She must have decided something, because she nodded once, fiercely. "You seem a good sort. I can give you a try. We can fit in two weeks of training before the poets come back."

"The poets?" I asked.

Sherri's lips spread into a broad, genuine smile. "That's who mostly comes in here, in the first weeks of term. It's poets and novelists, starving and otherwise. They come to discuss literature and human misery. It's all quite dramatic."

I gaped at her, but the sparkle didn't leave Sherri's eyes. "We'll have college students later in the term, too," she said. "They don't usually show up until they've got midterms, though. Are you at the university?"

I shook my head. "Not yet."

Sherri looked at me, thoughtfully. "Well then. Two week trial. Cash okay? We'll do under the table unless you've got a bank."

A sigh of relief bubbled up from my stomach. "Cash is great," I said. "When can I start?"

Sherri untied her apron, pulled it off her neck, and offered it to me. "Right now. There's only an hour until we close up-- summer hours and all that-- but I think I can run you through the basics. Does that work?"

I tied the apron behind my back. "That works," I said. "That works really well."

#writersmonth2021 #writing #my writing #writeblr #fantasy #wip: time travelers

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sunflowrhaz · 4 years

Text

I was tagged by @theleavesoflorien to answer a few questions that dig a little deeper. thank you darling!! (this is literally months old oops) 💛

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or a blue pen?

both really, i don’t have a preference

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or in the city?

country! i hate cities so much! i grew up visiting my grandparents farm all the time growing up! although instead of the country preferably a seaside town such as the one i live in. it’s not too busy but not far away from everything.. plus i couldn’t part from the sea!

3. If you could learn a new skill, what would it be?

picking back up painting, continue learning norwegian (don’t look at me like that marianne i keep saying i’m learning it but i’ve been so slack asdfdsasdf), get back into marimba

4. do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar?

tea with sugar is so gross! i only drink herbal teas. my favourite is spearmint

5. What was your favourite book as a child?

the harry potter series!! and the rainbow magic books asdfgfdsa, the princess diaries series, anything roald dahl, anything dr suess, captain underpants lol, hairy maclary, mr mcgee and the biting flea asdfdsadf soo many i was such a loner as a child and literally read every single book i could find

6. Do you prefer baths or showers?

showersss

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be?

a mermaid so i can live my h2o fantasy adfasdfds or a dragon 🐉

8. Paper or electronic books?

paper always! i love the smell and i would love to have a giant bookshelf filled with books one day! i read on my phone for fics of when i get a free ebook but my right eye is so blind it’s like bitch no stop please lmaoo

9. What is your favourite item of clothing?

all my flowy boho cotton blouses and pants! and my fave blue jeans and grungy tshirts

10. Do you like your name? Would you like to change it?

i used to wish it was a little more unique like shortening it to ren/wren instead of lauren because i had 4 other lauren’s in my grade at school 😂i was literally friends with two lauren’s asdfgfdsa

but in the end i do love my nicknames lozz,lozzy, lozza so it’s not so bad!

11. Who is a mentor to you?

my mother and my grandfather! my grandfather is my biggest inspiration 💛seeing all that he has achieved and his views and mentality on life.

12. Would you like to be famous? If so, what for?

nooo thanks. the only famous i would want to be is for activism/humanitarian/environmentalist stuff but even then i wouldn’t want to be super famous and known?

13. Are you a restless sleeper?

nope! once i’m out i am out! i love my sleep and do everything i can to ensure i get the best sleep ever! now if you’ll excuse me i’m off to listen to harry’s calm meditation 😂

15. Which element best represents you?

fire and air

16. Who do you want to be closer to?

my brother! i feel like i don’t see him as often anymore what with his work and living in seperate houses. he is my best friend so i miss just always having him near me all the time.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment?

no one so much as just not seeing my family as often even though i do see them every week. i just want a big family holiday to spend time with them. and i’m missing some of my mutals atm who are busy lately 😞

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory.

i blocked out so much of my childhood eeep ummm probably visiting my grandparents farm, riding horses, my grandfather driving us around on a trailer on the back of a tractor, collecting cicada skins with my brother and starting a collection of cool bugs, stealing berries off the mulberry bush ahaha, finding snake skins (why did we like collecting skins wtf asdfd)

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten?

snails? crocodile? i don’t even know ahaha (snails are amazing btw yummm i used to eat them all the time in vanuatu growing up)

20. What are you most thankful for?

my family, my health, the beautiful country i live in, the friends i have made on here 💛so many things

21. Do you like spicy food?

yummmmmm yes! just not super duper spicy i can’t handle that asdfgfsa

22. Have you ever met someone famous?

no i don’t think so? wait patty walters from as it is i got a pic and a hug from him <3 other than that no i don’t think so i mean i’m in the middle of nowhere asdfdsa woohoo australia

23. Do you keep a diary or journal?

i kept a super embarrassing diary at 12 but apart from that nope! like seriously that diary haunts me i don’t know what happened to it please for the love of god i hope it got thrown in the trash asdfdsa the CRINGE

24. Do you prefer to use pen or pencil?

pen!

25. What is your star sign?

sagittarius sun, capricorn moon, libra rising

26. Do you like your cereal crunchy or soggy?

CRUNCHY! wtf who is eating soggy cereal you are seriously disturbed asdfgfdsa

27. What would you want your legacy to be?

this is so tough ummm just bettering humanity and the environment idek

28. Do you like reading? What was the last book you read?

yes!! i was the loner kid in school who sat in the library at lunch reading all the books asdfgfdsa. the last book i read was the raven king by maggie stiefvater because LIBBY got me totally obsessed with this series god dammit what have you done to me and i am currently reading call down the hawk which is a sequel to the raven king (dammit libby asdfdsdfdsa)

29. How do you show someone you love them?

i always seem to cater to them with acts of service? so like cooking for them etc.. just doing stuff for them and looking after them in general? idk how to describe it. also sweet little messages and notes and cuddles! oh BOY will i tell you how much i love you in a birthday card or message asdsa like i will bring a tear to your eye baby just made my grandpa cry with his bday card asdfdsa

30. Do you like ice in your drinks?

crushed ice mmmmmm

31. What are you afraid of?

losing my family, never travelling, being stuck/tied down

32. What is your favourite scent?

the ocean, rain, books, sea breeze, wet grass, coffee, lavender, clean sheets, spearmint

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname?

mostly their name? i mean i feel like where i live in australia it’s pretty chill and not so formal? i even call my grandparents by their first names adfgfdsa mainly because my grandma did NOT want to be called grandma

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life?

OH BOY! i would be travelling non stop! i would literally never come home, i would be travelling around the world, living overseas etc... literally i would just be living on a boat sailing around greece or wherever. omg how i would love to do that :(

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean?

it depends. i would say the ocean (i love her so much) but also i was a swimmer for over 10 years so i love the pool too. i love sitting on the bottom of the pool, it’s so calming

36. What would you do if you found $50 on the ground

keep it but if i knew whose it was i would return it

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Did you make a wish?

no :( hopefully one day

38. What is one thing you would want to teach your children?

i’m not having children

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it?

maybe a quote/word or something on the back of my arm above my elbow idek i have an entire tattoo board on pinterst asdfdsa even though i know i would never get one i am too indecisive

40. What can you hear right now?

i’m listening to a pop punk playlist on spotify

41. Where do you feel the safest?

at home with my family

42. What is one thing you want to overcome/conquer?

my procrastination habits omg i am the worst!! certain family relations

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be?

dinosaurs mate, straight up, jks jks... no but really dinosaurs would be soo cool though, or maybe ancient greece?

44. What is your most used emoji?

💛✨😂

45. Describe yourself using one word.

more than one came to mind so giddy, optimistic, cheerful

46. What do you regret the most?

not travelling heaps after school ( i mean i was broke but still i should have worked more *sigh*) travelling looks really bleak now thanks to covid :(, losing touch with 3 certain people from high school i suck at staying in touch with people i am such an introvert 😞

47. Last movie you saw?

enola holmes and i loved it so much!

48. Last tv show you watched?

the mandalorian

49. Invent a word and its meaning

wobmap - intense affection and wonder for nature and the world

asdfgh what even

i tag: @pridesobright @sunflower-vol14 @rnbziamau @dailylouis @boobear-harold @princessparkhl @rosegoldeyelids @echoedsparks @angelharry (it’s been a while my secret santa pal ahaha hello!) and whoever else want’s to do this please feel free to say i tagged you! :) feel free to ignore

#geez do i say asdfghgfdsa enough or what?#tag game #long post

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winterskulleton · 3 years

Text

A summer’s love pt1

I don’t know how many parts there will be, but I plan to write a few of my favorite scenes so you can expect a few :)

*****

“A changeling?” I repeated, bewildered. “Those are fairy tales, Robbie. They don’t exist in real life. Do you really believe in ghost stories at seventeen?”

My friend gave me a disappointed look.

“If changelings don’t exist, what is that?” As he talked, he pointed a finger up the stairs where my little brother’s room was situated, and in it, my brother himself. “Does your brother usually bite your ankles like that?” The red-head directed his hand toward my leg where the bandages were already bloody. Ethan had asked for food when I’d gotten back from school and when I had told him we should wait for mom, he had bitten me. He had never been that hostile before.

“I don’t believe you.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“I don’t know what to tell you, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude.”

“Alright, bro.”

“That’s not any better.”

“Look,” he sighed, “that’s not your brother up there, Ash. And if it is, you can butter me up and stuff me in the oven. Oh, wait. That’s how to find out whether someone is a changeling or not!”

“I’m not putting my brother in the oven!” I jammed my finger against Rob’s chest before storming past him and up the stairs. I was going to prove to him my brother was normal. Maybe hungry, but normal nonetheless. Determined, I opened the door to Ethan’s room and stopped dead in my tracks.

Books and board games were scattered everywhere and the bed was undone. The blue pillowcase had been torn apart and a few feathers laid around it. The small lamp on his nightstand and been smashed on the ground, spreading shards of colorful glass in front of the bed from which came a ruffling sound. I bent down to peer under the bed. Ethan was crouched in the cramped space, growling and spitting at me.

“Ethan! Stop that right now.”

He grabbed the closest book he could find and threw it at my face. I ducked just in time but heard a yelp behind me. When I turned, Robbie was smoothing his shirt where the book had hit him.

“That little thing’s got strength,” he said in his usual playful tone. “Do you believe me now?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

I looked at Ethan, who was still snarling under his bed, and back at my friend. I observed him for a few seconds.

“How did you immediately know it was a changeling? There were other, more rational solutions.”

He smiled, and I knew something was wrong. His smile had an edge to it. A wild, dangerous side that sent a shiver down my spine. In the fifteen years I’d known him, he’d done some careless things, but never anything that would have intentionally put us in harm’s way. But the way he smiled made me believe that was about to change.

“I’m seriously surprised you didn’t put the clues together yet, princeling.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.” I had nothing of a prince. Princes live in castles and go to balls and marry gorgeous princesses. I lived on a farm in the middle of Louisiana, and I cried myself to sleep because I failed my math tests. “Now, answer me.”

“Do you remember in grade eight when Mrs. Moore made us read A Midsummer’s Night Dream?” I frowned. Why the hell was that relevant. “Do you remember how I knew every single line of one particular character?”

“Yes, I do. Come to the point.”

“Say my name.” His grin grew with every passing second.

“Robbie Goodfell…?” I said slowly.

“Now say the name of the character.”

“Robin Goodfell- Are you fucking kidding me!”

“Not at all,” he answered, trying to contain his giggling. “But watch your language, young man, there’s a child behind you.”

“You’re not… You can’t be the Robin Goodfellow, you’re seventeen!”

“Am I, though?”

“I’m pretty sure you are.”

“Look behind you.”

I turned toward Ethan’s destroyed room, expecting Robbie to point to my brother, but he didn’t. He raised his hand toward the bed and small pink flowers sprouted from the wooden bed frame. I watched, mesmerized, as the flowers blossomed. Ethan was too busy gnawing on a vine, like a cat does on electrical wires, to growl at us.

“Could a human do this?” He asked over my shoulder.

I wanted to say “Yes, that’s a thing every human does.” But it simply wasn’t possible! No one can make flowers grow out of furniture, human or not.

“Can a human do this?” I turned around just in time to see him disappear in a cloud of black feathers. I could make out a small form on the ground as the feathers fell down. Robbie was nowhere in sight. And then, out of the blue, the form lunged at my face. I raised my arms to protect myself but it was useless. The thing wasn’t after my eyes. A huge crow landed on top of my head, its claws gripping my hair tightly. I raised my eyes, trying not to move to not make the bird fall off. A shiny green eye stared back at me. The same shade of green as Robbie’s eyes.

“Get off me or I’ll smack you,” I threatened.

The bird flew off and retransformed into the familiar shape of my friend mid-air. He landed with his arms stretched like a magician finishing a card trick.

“Okay. Maybe you’re him,” I granted. “Now what? We have to get Ethan back.”

Robbie’s - well, Robin’s, apparently - smile disappeared.

“I think I know where your brother went.”

“Great. Where is he?”

Robin gave me a serious look like I’d never seen on him. He was always playing tricks on everyone as soon as he gets the chance. Seeing him so gloomy made me gulp.

“He’s in the Nevernever,” he explained. “The land of faeries.”

I was about to retort something about fairies but I’d seen my friend become a crow in front of me just a minute ago. And my ankle still hurt from Ethan’s bite. He was usually an angel, and no matter how hard I tried to convince myself, that thing under the bed wasn’t my brother. I took a deep breath and asked:

“How do we get there?”

“Oh, princeling. It’s not that easy,” he sighed dramatically, finding his mischievous smile once more. “But you’re lucky I’m your friend. First, you need a trod, a sort of door to get from one world to the other. Then, you need a faery, that’s where I come in. You see, humans can’t do it on their own.”

“Where can we find this… trod you’re talking about?” I asked.

“Once again, you’re in luck. I sense one right there.” He pointed into my brother’s room. More specifically, the closet.

“Fairies in the closet, haha, very funny.”

He snorted.

“Not that kind of fairies, Ash. But yeah, let’s go.” He grabbed my arm and dragged me into the room. As soon as we were in range, the changeling lunged on us. Robin shoved me aside and raised his foot to the creature’s forehead. It stopped moving as soon as my friend’s shoe touched it.

“Get in,” he said as he opened the closet door, not taking his eyes off my false brother. I did as he ordered. He joined me a few seconds after, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Phew, safe at last,” he joked, inches away from my face.

“Where’s that trod?” I asked. I hated small spaces.

“It should be somewhere around here…” He pushed a few stuffed animals out of the way and ran his hands against the wall. A light shone out of the wall in a rectangle shape where there was previously nothing. “Oh, oh, oh, there you are.”

Robin knocked three times, and a doorknob appeared. He turned toward me, serious again.

“Before we do this, I need you to know something. Once we pass the trod, there’s no going back for you. You’ll be able to see them, and they’ll be able to see you. They won’t leave you alone. Ever. We can still go back, you can pretend your brother has always been like that, that I’m just a normal human boy and that nothing weird ever happens to you.”

“No.” That was out of the question. I couldn’t care less what faeries would do to me. “I need to get the real Ethan back home.”

He looked at me solemnly before opening the door. A bright golden light lit up the whole closet.

“After you,” he said with a wink.

#a summer's love #iron fey #The Iron King #the iron queen #The Iron Daughter #the iron knight #ash #robin goodfellow #puck

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whirlybirdwhat · 4 years

Text

Accidental Family Man Au

remember that one ask where I talked about some projects? This is one of them. Enjoy dad franky!

So it begins with Franky – a back alley repair in the illustrious mechanic city of Water 7 – a miracle engineering city, they call it, with intertwining roads of cars and rivers. Venice, if Venice was made of concrete and had a road system above its water system, twisting above houses and everything.

Franky used to be one of those engineers that created those miracles, but an accident later, and he’s the scourge of the city and half bionic, making his living in back alley repair shops where you either pay with cash or your life.

He never said he was a good guy, did he Ice Burg?

He still has connections though – and these connections lead to Iceburg, and to the Straw Hats.

Iceburg’s the mayor, of course, and while he doesn’t care much for his public image, he knows that if he starts accepting money from shady kids who showed up to his doorstep possibly covered in blood with a woman who he swears he’s seen before beside him, that maybe Water 7’s people will take a hit for harboring criminals.

But hey, He knows a guy already doesn’t he?

So he sends these kids and their broken van down to the Franky House to see if he would fix their beloved, broken, van.

The Straw Hats never reach it, because the woman (Robin) gets kidnapped and a fight breaks out, leading to the separation of the group,

So the story really begins with Franky and the little broken down RV called The Going Merry, previously belonging to the kid who’s standing in front of him, begging him to fix it.

More Hcs Below cut including actual dad Franky stuff lol

That kid is Usopp, and he’s asking because Franky’s the only repair man in the illustrious city of Water 7 that will possibly accept the cash that Usopp has to offer.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he attempts to kick the kid out and gets kidnapped in return.

Oops

So, Franky’s introduced to Ennies Lobby one of the worst places this side of the country – where people go and never come back, and hey, whats this kid doing kicking down the door?

Safe to say, Franky is rescued, and learns a little more of their story.

And Safe to say, Franky sees the woman they are going to save (him, and a bunch of teenagers and some 12 year old brat) and he near damn falls in love with her on sight and definitely does when he actually talks to her.

They save Robin, and start running – of course, Merry the van is just barely struggling to save all their added weight but they make it but also merry’s totaled.

So Franky shows them his pet project, The Thousand Sunny, supposed to be his super get away, home a way from home rv but with a few modifcations… the Straw Hat Gang has a new home. And a new crew member.

Franky learns everyone’s stories and about all the absolutely shady shit they are into. He learns he fits right in.

And then… then the moments start happening.

He helps Usopp fix up the Sunny, and teachers him about cars and such.

He and Chopper start bonding over bionics and medical shit that went into building his body.

Zoro and him geek out over comic heroes (this, at least in zoro’s part, is canon the big nerd.)

He helps Nami out with some headings and listens to her troubles.

Sanji and him go fishing one day and it’s the most surreal experience of Franky’s life because this teen is in a three-piece suit and catching giant fish out on the shore of some lake? What?

Franky gives Luffy advice and pulls him out of fights and shows him cool robot things.

And its two months in when Franky realizes – here is it actually typed out lmao

“In all honesty, Franky doesn’t know how it happens.

Well.

He has a vague idea.

(Can you save her? Please? Merry’s the best.)

But still – tracing the events that led up to him frantically calling Ice-for-brains at one am in the morning at a near abandoned gas station on the west coast was a hard task.

“Hello?”

Finally.

“Ice-for-brains,” He starts using the familiar name.

“Flunky? The hell? What are you calling me now?”

“Iceberg.” The use of his real name quiets him. He knows this is serious. Franky takes a deep breath, and exhales, saying the next words in a single breath. “I accidently became a dad to six crazy teenagers. Help.”

…

“Goddamnit bastard-berg this is no time to laugh!””

AND THEN HE GOES ON TO HAVE MORE DAD ADVENTURES INCLUDING:

Organizing the kids at Sabaody Park

being emotional support for all these kids trauma please world, give them a break

doing his best to say no to allowing luffy to swim with sharks but giving in anyway

being a component (aka fierce menacing bodyguard) in his daughter’s nami’s schemes

breaking up fights

Attempting to ground known criminals who may or may not be stronger than him

Modifying the RV so that they can have Brook and Jimbe on it as well

“MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS! MCDONALDS!”

Overthrowing the government in at least three different countries because his kids wanted to

Doing experiments with illegal fireworks on Usopp’s behest

“Do you want to play catch” “Franky that’s dynamite that we found in the stach what the fuck- “Do you want to play catch” “…Yes.”

Explaining Safe Sex to teenagers who have biggers worries such as the government

Teaching them all how to drive. He thinks hius heart has popped out of his chest.

Snoring loudly on their tiny couch and everyone just dogpiling on him

Also I had this in my notes

So that’s a thing that’s going to happen!

Uh anyway uh PART TWO – THE OTHER FCKING STRAWHATS

Note: Everyone is aged down three years from pre TS ages to enforce the fact that 1) the government is fucking nuts for assigning bounties to these kids in this au 2) give more dad moments as while we all need a dad in our lives at any age it gives me more plausible reason here 3) plot related issues and the fact that this story takes place over several years and 4) the image of a 14 year old taking down the government is hilarious to me.

So.

Moving on.

Luffy – 14 years old and an absolute bastard

Luffy grew up in the port city of Fuusha as a way for Garp to keep an eye on him because of his family connections and make sure nothing bad happened to him - didn’t quite work out.

dads a terrorist, his brothers a world class criminal, his gramps is an abusive piece of shit but also weirdly protective marine officer, his family’s complicated.

he grew up in the seedy underbelly of the city and made friends with a lot of criminals (who helped him get out because hey that five year old who used to steal our food is a brat and maybe we should help him get out before he becomes to chaotic (too late) and becomes our friend (also too late) )

Among these criminals are Shanks, who wanders through once in a while, Buggy, begrudging friend, Jimbe, because he has connections, Crocodile, because this brats a bastard, and Rayleigh, among others.

Annoys them to make him his friend, continues annoying them afterwards.

He just thinks they’re neat.

Luffy leaves two months after Ace, his brother under Dadan’s, the local gang leaders, roof, leaves because Ace can’t tell him to stay behind anymore

but the govt got word now he’s on the run – Coby helps him escape

As such, Luffy grows up with a very very skewed moral compass as in canon but a bit more, and now literally is almost ten times more feral as he should be.

His goal is now to do whatever he wants, without people telling him what to do or that he can’t do that – He’s going to be free, damnit.

Franky understands and learns over time to adjust his Parenting Skills accordingly

Zoro – 16 and illegally owning a motorcycle because he thought the best way to improve his skill was to go out and hunt down people to fight, and of course he needs a motorcycle to do that, doesn’t he?

He was pulled over for speeding then taken in for being underage

He is also caught up in some bad stuff (fight circles, bounty’s, etc. this kids 16 and breaking grown men’s spines.)

Then comes Luffy who was also arrested for dine and dashing and is in the back seat.

Luffy, who after the police car pulls over, punches out the police officer, unlocks Zoros cuffs and tells him “Drive”

So they drive

“Hey, hey Zoro. Join my crew. It’ll be fun.”

“Anything you say captain”

knows Luffy for three seconds and is immediately down to murder with him

Its great

He wants to become the greatest sword fighter still, which is still a thing in my fantasy modern world, so anyway, picture this 16 year old going up to you and tell you to fight but he has a sword in his mouth and in both hands and the most dangerous look in his eye.

He and Luffy immediately rob a sword shop to find him new swords after they meet, it becomes a thing later on where they will steal (horribly, they literally crash in through the window every time because they have no subtly) something small from each city they visit.

Nami - 15 year old pick pocket in the city where luffy and zoro stop, just trying to scrap up some money to pay off her family’s debt.

Bellmere’s still alive damnit.

Nami thought Zoro and Luffy were police originally (because they are driving around in stolen police car) and tried to pull the ‘oh officer help me’ card when the people she stole from chased after her

To her surprise, it was two kids her age in the front seat.

Luffy: “get in”

she gets in

they dont talk about it

The people who were chasing her was Buggy’s gang who Luffy waves at as he goes by

Buggy sends a message to Shanks which is essentially “hey that brat u liked is still alive”

And Shanks is like “oh thank god” not knowing the terror he has unleashed upon the world

A month later Arlong has mysteriously disappeared and the Bell-mere farm is flourishing while the second daughter becomes a world class criminal.

Bell’meres never been prouder and it gives Nojiko a great conversation starter.

Usopp’s 14 and lives in a trailer park called syrup alone

Has a business where he sells odd herbs and such, passing them off as anything that will get him some money – think of it as Toad Oil from Wano but with some popgreens and such mixed in.

His goal is get enough money to stand on his own and leave the park but its slow going. And then…

Luffy punches the heck outta the creep that was creeping on the owner of the park, kaya, and think’s Usopp’s stories are super cool.

Usopp wants to go with them, to explore the world With Luffy.

At this point, the Straw Hats have realized that driving a stolen police car around is a bad idea

so they take the huge van - a gift from Kaya named The Going Merry, and set off, using Nami’s stolen funds to get them by.

Sanji - 16 year old who longs to be a chef with the best food and just wants to feed people who need it

He hates government cause they don’t feed people and has a lot of petty grudges and helps Zeff run a lot of kitchens to help people.

He’s still the Sous chef of the Baratie and still has a penchant for kicking unruly customers around. Baratie has a less then stellar reputation for service but the food? The best in the land.

He feeds Luffy the food.

Luffy likes the food.

Luffy kidnaps Sanji

Zeff worries about it but he can’t do jack since he actually is not Sanjis legal guardian (he kidnapped the kid first on accident after they both were stranded. He still tries to call anyway, and is proud of the change his son is making in the world. He’s currently working to get suspicious government people off his back about his missing Sous chef with the unique curly eyebrow…

Anyway, Sanji becomes the cook for the strawhats and is really happy because everyone likes his food and he can help anyone along the way and send business to the baratie

Its a good deal for him, and with all the places he visits his skill grows as a chef.

Chopper - 12 year old prodigy who really wants to be a doctor but both his legal guardians are out of the way

Hiruluks dead and Kureha, against her will because she’s still beautiful at 100 dammnit, is in a nursing home trying to break out

Chopper has nowhere to go but still tries to pursue his medical career, and this fucking twelve year old does so by patching up people from bar and gang fights.

The Straw Hats pick him up and Usopp hacks into a govt control thing to sign him up for online medical course

Kureha’s proud and gives him a book of pressed cherry blossoms that was Hiruluk’s

He cries

Chopper gets lots of practice for medical stuff with Luffy and Zoro who like to fight in fighting rings just for the heck of it, and for the money that Nami wants.

Robin – 25 year old depressed archeologist (and assassin) they found in a mafia in the next country over (Vivi’s)

Crocodile’s running it, aka Luffy’s criminal uncle number 500

Luffy’s pissed about it and smacks him into the dust because it’s his friends country, and then drags Robin along because she needs to have some adventure, and hey, they are checking out the ruin’s next, wont that be cool?

So robin comes along as the ‘adult super vision’, at least in Nami and Usopp and Chopper’s mind.

She learns that these kids have some how been able to dodge school, and starts teaching them the basics of what they would need to know, and then any thing else they want to know. (Zoro, she finds, is extremely good at math while Sanji enjoys chemistry. Nami and Usopp catch on quick, while Chopper has his own studies already but enjoys talking to her. Luffy dislikes learning, but if the promise of pirates or foods or letters that wont spin in his head is involved, he’ll gladly sit down for a bit. He especially loves the stories however.)

Robin finds herself inching dangerously into mom territory, and accepts it whole heartedly after meeting Franky, who she finds handsomely hilarious.

She has a shady past but is slowly opening up about it, and knows she will watch the world burn for this crew.

Y’all know about Franky already so im gonna move on.

Brook – super fucking Old musician they found on the street looking for his dog Laboon

He used to be a star but lost his fame but doesn’t care – he only wants to make people happy with his music.

Luffy just straight up just drags him into the sunny, its becoming a habit of him kidnapping people, that’s not how you make friends Luffy (or at least it shouldn’t be – he always seems to make it work.)

Everyone just goes with it at this point while Franky sighs and triie sto figure out how to make a giant RV even bigger

The Crew find out his dog is living in luffy’s home town and used to play with Luffy when his friends weren’t around. They vow to go back once everything dies down, but in the mean time Dadan gets a new guard dog in her house hold

Usopp posts one (1) video of Brook (on Halloween in skeleton make up) and he instantly becomes a revived star, thriving on the mytery of the Skeleton Soul King.

He now posts videos from around the world of him singing but its impossible to predict where he will be next, and he’s invisible with out his make up to the internet, so its good for the whole criminal thing.

Jimbe

(best) Criminal uncle 501

No one knows exactly how he knows luffy beyond luffy himself but they are 90% sure its something to do with the underground warlord system that Luffy has connections too

He gives the best hugs, Uncle Iroh but without the well-meaning manipulation.

He’s tired of responsibility that he has in his underground position and kinda wants to fuck off to the Caribbean but then he meets luffy again and is like this is better

He Leaves the fishman gang behind with subordinate in charge and joins strawhats

He becomes stressed - “Why did you choose an archeologist and a man who wears speedos for adult supervision, how are you alive, do you need a hug, do you know basic math, have you even gone to school, oh thank god Robin is here - ”

Two minutes later

“Do you have code names, can I have one,”

He’s a big faker the dummy everyone can see right through you, you’re aren’t on this crew if you have common sense

Between dad moments, essentially its just the Straw hats breaking in and causing havoc where ever they go, building their bounties and being a found family.

That’s it for now, but please ask questions! Sorry this was so long lmao, ill also add something for Vivi later!

147 notes · View notes

legobiwan · 4 years

Note

could you do 18 and 100 for the trope mash up thing? (And if you want two characters, Obi-wan and Hondo?- I got a little confused with your added instructions to the trope mashup)

Circus AU / Accidentally Saving the Day (Hondo & Obi-wan)

Anon, I had to WORK for this one and even did a little research into circus history since I am woefully undereducated about the topic. I think I’ve found an interesting way of weaving these all together and giving a little bonus at the end. Stick with me here, I need to do a bit of an introduction to get this whole idea going.

For the purposes of this AU, please assume that the Clone War and all the events surrounding it happened directly after Naboo, meaning everyone is about 10 years younger than they are in canon. Also assume that Qui-gon was not killed on Naboo, although that has little bearing on this particular story.

THIS GOT OUT OF CONTROL. I was expecting to write a fun little 1,000 word thing, not a whole AU concept. But here we are, so….uh…

We’ll see what everyone thinks? Enjoy. And good luck :D

—-

“How are they doing?” Szimon Tesdak asked, thin, long mustache bobbing up and down at the ends.

The other man patted the Pamaradian prancer’s neck, running his fingers through the thick mane of her hair. The prancer shivered, eyes darting back and forth, hooves tapping nervously on the durasteel floor. The man known as Whisp spoke softly in the creature’s ear, the words foreign to even Szimon’s cosmopolitan ears. A few moments later, the prancer settled, nuzzling her snout into Whisp’s shoulder.

Whisp turned to face Szimon. “They’re restless,” he said. “Fourteen hours in a cruiser is a bit much for anyone to take.”

Szimon waved the veiled criticism away with a flick of his wrist. Yes, it had been a long journey, but the payoff would - hopefully - be worth it. And they needed the credits - or whatever these people were going to pay.

“An hour more and we’ll be there,” Szimon said with false confidence.

Whisp stood, crossing his arms tight against his chest, the black-and-crimson fabric of his worn travel tunic wrinkling with the gesture. There was a hint of beard on the young man’s chin, something that, when it grew in, would likely age him a good ten years. The man peered at Szimon with grey-blue eyes like he was trying to ace one of those vision tests at a local spaceport agency. Always looking for hidden meaning, he is.

And sometimes he finds it.

At least with the creatures, that had been the case. Two years Whisp had been working for Szimon and never had the older circus master figured out the man’s trick. Szimon had spent his life in the circus, from his childhood on Thybaar right up the grand days of the bright Coruscant lights to his now-ramshackle operation held together by thread, petty theft, and the occasional cashing in on favors owed.

Szimon had seen it all - and more, but nothing like Whisp and his ability to communicate with the creatures, like he was reading their minds. “The Whisperer,” the other members had taken to calling him. The moniker had stuck, albeit in shortened form, Whisp’s real name - whatever it had been - long forgotten.

“Remind me again why we’re flying out to the Outer Rim for a show? Seems a bit of an expense when we could just as easily round up a few smaller venues for far less hassle,” Whisp said.

“Ah, Whisp, ever the cynic,” Szimon clapped a meaty hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Don’t think of it as a hassle,” he waved a dramatic hand, as if unveiling something from a behind a curtain. “But as an expansion of our operations.”

Whisp cocked an eyebrow. “Hardly difficult seeing as our operations comprised of three planets the past month, two of which we never actually got to land on.”

Szimon snorted. Well, yes, business had been down because of the war. Szimon himself cared little for the politics of the Republic or the Separatists. A government was a government, with all its little games and corruptions, mazes of betrayal, and endless mountains of datawork. No, Szimon Tesdak would never be chained behind one of those desks.

But many others were, shackled to unfulfilling jobs and lives, stuck in a desert of mediocrity and boredom. That was where Szimon came in. Unhappy citizens tended to breed unhappy revolts. But give them a nice circus, something to laugh at, a little magic that was absent from their day-to-day existence?

It didn’t really matter who was in power. The problems, the outcomes -they were always the same in the end.

Still, the war had been disruptive to his business and over the past few months, the “Great Thybaarian Traveling Show” had been forced into semi-refugee status as planet after planet was devastated by the conflict between a mechanical and clone army. Circuses were part of avoiding war, not conducting it.

Szimon shook off the dark thoughts with a wide smile. “Come on now, Whisp. We’re going to make great friends on the Outer Rim. My benefactor has promised a large sum, maybe even a sponsorship if we play our cards right.”

“I thought they were pirates,” Whisp retorted, half-smile playing on his face.

Szimon made an airy gesture, chuckling. “Pirates, embezzlers, Hutts. As long as we get paid, I’ll work for the Sith themselves.”

Whisp tightened under Szimon’s arm, which was wrapped around the thin man’s shoulders. Some unreadable emotion passed over his face, a premonition of a storm. After a moment, he spoke, hesitant.

“I suppose.”

“That’s the spirit!” Szimon exclaimed, shaking Whisp. “Come on, we have to make preparations for landing and I’m not letting Battlebuzz near those controls again.“

—–

“That was a very impressive show, my friend,” the pirate known as Hondo Ohnaka sidled up to Whisp, unceremoniously dropping into the seat next to him, tankard full of green ale.

Whisp looked up from his own mug, half-consumed, eyeing the pirate warily. “Thank you,” he replied, adding, “I think,” after a moment’s hesitation. It never hurt to be too cautious around pirates.

“All those acrobats, all the flips and whooshes.” Hondo made an extravagant gesture with his arm, nearly taking Whisp’s head off. “And the beautiful women dancing to such music, it shouldn’t be allowed!” he grinned, giving Whisp a knowing look. ”My men, they enjoy that - some of my women, too!” Hondo cackled, downing the entirety of his pint in one go, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“But you, my friend - with the creatures.” The pirate’s voice turned a shade serious and several parsecs more calculating. Whisp bit his lip, steeling himself to steer another drunken conversation away from this dangerous territory. “Yes, the creatures,” Hondo continued, nearly singing. “Now that was something I’ve never seen before. Most beast tamers use weapons.” The pirate made a few motions mimicking a whip. “They use fear and intimidation but you!” He pointed a finger that almost went up Whisp’s nose. “Ah, it was almost like you talked to them with your mind.”

Whisp gave a forced shrug, his pulse starting to race. He needed to stay calm. Needed to focus on the present, not his anxieties. He laughed to himself, bitter, wholly aware of the gross irony of that statement. “Just an ability I’ve had since my youth,” he said, voice flat. “Better me in the circus than those brutish weapons-wielding tamers you mentioned.” Whisp scowled. That much was the truth. Whisp couldn’t abide by their methods, couldn’t stand the way the pain and fear radiated from the abused creatures. He knew he couldn’t save them all, but if he could give a second chance to even a single Borcatu, if he could find a home for those who had been cast out -

Anger trilled at the back Whisp’s brain, a sensuous, lush melody more tempting than any of the ribald pirate ballads in the background.

Hondo beckoned at another Weequay, grabbing two pints from a serving tray, setting one in front of Whisp in an unspoken command. “Yes, your youth. Tell me about that. Your accent is polished, very posh, very Core World.” Very monied. If only, Whisp rued.

It had been too much effort to try and tame his accent, which stood out amongst Szimon’s motley crew of performers like a neon bell weed in the desert.

Whisp took a long sip of his beverage, smacking his lips together. The new alcohol was a step higher in quality than the dredge he had been drinking before. He peered to Ohnaka on his right, wondering if he was about to be drugged, kidnapped, or worse. Oh well, he thought, drinking some more of the beverage. Might as well enjoy while I can.

“I was brought up in the Core,” Whisp recited, setting his glass down, not even needing to think about the words he had said them so many times. “My family, unfortunately, abandoned me, so I took to farming in the Mid-Rim as a means of sustaining myself. It was there I discovered I had an affinity for creatures and then did some work in healing clinics before the war broke out. The Republic Army took over all the planetary clinics so I was forced into finding…” Whisp bobbed his head, “more creative ways to apply my talents.”

“Interesting,” Hondo noted, his gaze greedy as he looked Whisp up and down. Whisp’s other hand moved to his waist. So much for enjoying. He fingered the blaster he had hidden under his red and silver vest, neatly tucked away in a shoulder holster.

Hondo held out a hand. “I don’t mean to cause you alarm, my young friend,” he said with a laugh, sitting back in his chair, kicking both feet up on the table. “You can put your blaster away, I only want to talk business.”

Whisp’s hand tightened for a moment before he raised an open palm in a universal gesture of surrender, his brow furrowed.

“What type of business?”

“What type indeed?” Hondo hummed, rocking his feet back and forth in time to the bawdy, clangorous music. Somewhere on the other side of the room, Tergallian and Lopisa had gotten into a knife-throwing contest with some of the pirates. Whisp had a feeling the Weequay had bet on it and that the pirates were about to lose their shirts, pants, shoes, and who knew what else in the deal. Might have to make a quick getaway if there’s enough of a ruckus, Whisp thought, eyeing the locations of the exits and the best strategies to get there without being shot.

Again, he winced.

“Oh, you won’t make it out, I promise” Hondo commented, his expression still jovial. “All the exits are under full guard and I guarantee there’s no other way out unless it’s by my command.” He pressed a finger into the table, all traces of humor gone from his voice. “Unless,” he began after a moment, “you are a Jedi.”

Whisp was off his stool in an instant, blaster in hand. Not wanting a direct confrontation, he pointed it towards the ground, the table hiding the weapon from the view of most of the other pirates and circus members. Off in the corner, Szimon’s eyes grew wide as he made a series of furious movements in Whisp’s driection.

“I’m fine,” Whisp signed back in the strange language of gestures known only to those in this particular circus, an easy way to communicate on stage while looking artistic and also a not bad method of either avoiding trouble or sometimes finding it - if their pockets and stomachs were empty enough.

Hondo clasped his hands behind his head, looking unconcerned. “I did not mean to upset you,” he said, lips quirking upwards as if he had just figured out some baffling puzzle. “Only warn you about my security system. But let us not talk of such things, as they disturb you and as my dear mother always said - “ Hondo raised a finger. “Son! You catch more apidactyls with honey. And if that doesn’t work, you can still catch them with a blaster.”

Not worth the fight. Not even sure I’d win this fight, Whisp sighed inwardly. Knowing when he was outmatched, or at least when to choose his battles, Whisp retook his seat with a muttered curse.

“Fine, then. What do you want from me?”

Hondo smiled. “Ah, now we talk business,” he shrugged. “Nothing much, my friend. And nothing - mostly - to do with your little traveling show. But the circus isn’t going to pay you forever and a man of your many talents - ” Hondo leaned forward, putting both forearms on the table. “Could fetch a pretty hefty payday if he found himself aligned with the right people.”

Whisp’s eyebrows rose. “Are you offering me a job?”

Hondo raised both arms. “Maybe, if you are willing to - “

“Hondo!” A large, burly man came barreling into the room. At once, the music stopped with a zippered rip of a holodisc jarred from its needle, pirates and circus members alike turning to the wide-eyed, heaving pirate.

“We got trouble out there!”

Immediately, Hondo came to his feet, blaster in hand. “What kind of trouble?”

“I think it’s the Republic! Looks like them, at least. They’re tryin’ a fall back to our compound!”

“We’ll see about that,” Hondo growled, raising his weapon. “No one takes over Hondo Ohnaka’s compound without my permission!”

—-

Blaster fire rang out from all sides, a multicolored lattice of deadly energy. To Whisp’s surprise, Hondo was near the vanguard of the pirates, shooting at the incoming wave of bright, white uniforms with terrifying precision. The pirates were good, Whisp had to give them that, the transition from unruly drunkards to semi-disciplined guerrilla fighters more seamless than Whisp thought possible.

“Any ideas?” Szimon asked next to him, the pair huddled behind a large boulder, just out of range of the real fighting. Whisp knew Szimon didn’t care one way or another about who won this particular battle - one of thousands Szimon had witnessed over the years. But their ship - their livelihood and home, not to mention only asset - lay just beyond the front line of what Whisp was pretty sure were the infamous clones. If their ship was damaged, or, even worse, destroyed - they were all done for.

Whisp took in the scene, applying his natural affinity for tactics that had been first discovered early in his tenure with Szimon, an awkward encounter with the Ruuthian mafia, a highly successful performance, and a jar of…requisitioned heeble eggs belonging to Ruuthian mob boss. It had been his quick thinking that had gotten them out of that mess, a plan so crazy it couldn’t do anything but work. From that point on, Whisp had earned the nickname, “The General,” much to his dismay.

Carefully, Whisp extended his senses, not only his eyes and ears but his other senses, the ones he kept locked away from everyone else - everyone else except his creatures. The creatures didn’t care what his status or title was, if he had succeeded or not, if he occasionally broke some moral law that had been branded into his mind as a child. The creatures didn’t judge - they had never judged and found him wanting.

It wasn’t good. For all of Hondo’s firepower, they were still in the bottom of a cereal bowl in the sandy crevasse, the clone troopers above holding higher ground as they advanced on the compound. It didn’t escape Whisp’s notice that the troopers’ blaster bolts were consistently going wide, aimed to injure or impede, but not kill. Some strange long-buried instinct rose in Whisp’s chest as he watched the men, sensing their similarities, down to a genetic level. Was he was supposed to be on their side? Supposed to be fighting with them, supposed to -

An explosion rocked the compound, bringing down metal, stone, and all kinds of debris on the pirates. Hondo barked out more orders, a line of men running to set up what looked like a short-range missile while the rest of the pirates resumed their firefight.

I’m supposed to be getting us out alive, Whisp fumed at himself. No more distractions. Szimon’s face was covered in dust and sand and for a moment Whisp almost laughed. The circus master looked the spitting image of the Great Lady Devonna in her full makeup.

“Are you alright, Szimon?” Whisp asked, helping the other man to a seat.

“I’ve seen worse,” he growled, swiping debris from tassled gold epaulettes perched on bright red shoulders like two Felucian retrine sparrows. “Just do something, Whisp, I’m not getting any younger here.”

Right. Whisp looked again at the fight, the positioning of the men, their ship. The pirates weren’t going to win an all-out firefight, not like this and Whisp had to assume there would be reinforcements coming sooner than later. It was now or…

Whisp frowned. They could wait for the clones to take over the compound and beg for lenience. But knowing the Republic, they’d probably confiscate the ship. And send them to prison. Besides, Whisp’s own presence might raise too many uncomfortable questions, ones he had no desire whatsoever to revisit.

So much for that idea, he rued, while surveying the scene. The clones were all faced towards the fighting, Hondo’s forces feisty enough to keep them fully engaged. There weren’t that many of them, not a full battalion, for certain, which meant it was likely Szimon’s ship was wholly unguarded and not even considered a threat, as it had no visible weaponry. If he could just…

Whisp closed his eyes, feeling for the familiar energies, the outlines of the creatures he cared for, from the smallest snitmouse to the largest morak. Yes, he thought, connecting his mind with the stampede creatures. They would never see it coming.

A moment later the earth rumbled, the fighting slowing to a small drizzle of blaster fire as the line of clones turned to the oncoming dust storm that hid the three moraks, now prodded on by Whisp, feeding off of his repressed frustration and anger with the representatives of the institution that had driven him to this life in the first place. Of the people who were trying, again, to deprive him of a home, of a place where he belonged.

Unaware the opaque cloud hid anything living, no less animals whose shells repelled most blaster fire - a well-kept secret known not even in the fancy universities on Coruscant - the clones fired to no avail as the moraks descended, sending bodies flying in every direction with desperate shrieks, the remainder of the forces too startled to return fire efficiently. Three bloody minutes later, the remaining clones ran, retreating, leaving the bodies of their fallen comrades as the only evidence of the failed ambush.

Cheers rose the pirates as they lifted their weapons in glee, somehow manifesting mugs of ale in their hands only a scant minute after they had been involved in a full-bore battle. Whisp slowly climbed from behind the rock, pulling Szimon up with him. The Thybaarian looked at Whisp as if it was the first time he had ever seen him.

“Was that you?” he asked, eyes trying to pierce through years of layers, of hidden secrets that were the only true skin of the man known as Whisp.

Whisp laughed, uncomfortable. “What? No, I mean - “

Szimon shook his head, still dazed. “I always had my suspicions, you know. Not just the creatures, although I’ll grant you that’s one hell of a trick.” He paused, his expression unreadable. “I figured there was some reason you weren’t up with them in that fancy tower, figured it was none of my business, but now - “ Szimon’s eyes turned calculating. “This isn’t just some parlor trick, is it, it’s - “

Whisp backed away, palms splayed in front of him, as if trying to stop the words from entering his space. “No, I’m not. I - “ he looked around, wild, feeling just like one of his creatures, feral and trapped. He was going to lose his home again, once they found out, it was all going to be over. “I never - “ Something snapped, then crackled with inside of Whisp, like the breaking of an invisible, electric bone, sparking flying everywhere.

“I never was one, okay!” he yelled, stomping his foot. “Never was, never will be! That man - that child - died over ten years ago. This -” Whisp gestured angrily at himself. “Is what I am. Nothing. More.”

They had been certain leave Whisp with that message. Nothing more. Just nothing.

“A fascinating story, my young friend,” a low, baritone voice intoned from behind them. “I would be curious to hear more of it.”

Whisp spun around. The man was - there was no other word for it - regal, imperious, commanding the attention of every being in the valley, as he moved towards Whisp and Szimon, long brown cape billowing in the wind, deep violet outfit a perfect fit on his broad chest. Hondo’s troops paused mid-swig, ale running down their necks, and even Hondo himself craned his head forward to get a better look at the newcomer.

Fifty blaster rifles rose at once.

The man stopped, surveying the ends of the weapons pointed at him with a disaffected gaze. The compound held its breath, sinews tightening around triggers as an unworldly clarity came over the canyon, as if each atom, each sound wave could be made manifest as a physical, tangible reality. And then the man smirked, wholly unconcerned with his vast disadvantage in the situation as the world returned to its customary blur. Whisp and the others exhaled, noisy phlegm crackling up their lungs, dust tingling in their throats.

The stranger took an unhurried step forward raising one hand.

“You may lower your weapons,” he addressed the pirates, voice betraying nothing but absolute confidence. It occurred to Whisp then that the man had never been at any disadvantage at all. “I intend no harm,” he added in his deep, patrician voice.

Hondo took an equal, ambling step forward, hands clasped behind his back. He circled the newcomer, a hound sniffing for possible quarry, gazing him up and down, as if he were a incoming shipment of contraband. Then, after a moment, Hondo gave a nod, and the blasters summarily disappeared.

“My, my we are popular today,” the pirate began amiably. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Mister…” Hondo gestured at the other man in question.

“I am here for three reasons,” the stranger announced, ignoring Hondo’s unspoken inquiry. “The first was unwelcome, but unsurprising. My ships were caught unaware, en route from a trade post in the Outer Rim to Jybosti. I carry the identification cards and manifest if you desire proof of my claim. The Republic forced our hand, causing us to land here and engage in an unwanted ground battle which regrettably involved your forces.” The man turned to Hondo, giving an apologetic gesture. Hondo answered with cool regard, his skepticism echoing through the enclosure. Whisp had to agree. No one just happened to go by a place like Florrum without reason. Especially someone like this.

Still, it wasn’t the stranger that had been one shooting at them. Maybe he was telling the truth. Or at least a part of it.

“Secondly,” the man continued, opening his arms, “I would like to thank you all for, how shall I say - “ He paused for dramatic effect, lifting his chin slightly. Whoever this man was, he knew how to hold a crowd, perhaps even better than Szimon. “Saving the day, however unexpected your heroics may have been.”

“Yeah, heroes!” One of the pirates bellowed, raising both his blaster and ale mug, several others echoing his enthusiasm with chants of “Heroes!” which quickly devolved into far less elevated rhetoric.

“And thirdly?” Hondo asked, after the raucous had died down.

“Thirdly,” the man drawled, turning his full attention on Whisp. “I would like to know further details regarding this young man’s story.”

Whisp’s eyes went wide as he took an involuntary step back. “There’s not much more to tell, I’m afraid,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. The words were automatic, a defense mechanism so perfectly tuned, it was nearly instinct. But the strange pressure that had been growing at the back of Whisp’s brain spiked with the lie, leaving a dark, velvet shadow in its wake, something immensely powerful yet a balm to his frayed emotions. It was something…

Whisp gasped, eyes locking with the other man.

It was something familiar.

The stranger smiled, all edges as he clasped his hands behind his back, addressing Szimon. “This young man is in your employ?” he asked, brusque, nodding towards Whisp.

Szimon straightened his jacket and his posture, already sensing a deal in the making as he slipped into tell-tale ringmaster persona. “Yes, sir, best creature tamer I’ve ever seen.”

“Interesting,” the man commented, drawing out the word. “And if he were to leave your employ, how would that affect your operations?”

“Well, I daresay it would be quite the inconvenience,” Szimon began, his confidence building as he fell into the familiar patter of a sales pitch. Whisp barely heard the words, disbelief rising like an angry, red ocean. Would Szimon really do this to him? Now? After everything?

“…so you see, unless I would be suitably compensated for my losses…”

The grey-haired man leaned forward and whispered something in Szimon’s ear. Szimon’s eyes went moon-wide, his mouth dropping open, words tripping from his mouth.

“I trust that would be satisfactory?” the man asked.

“I - ah - “ Szimon sent a half-apologetic glance over to Whisp, eyes gleaming with barely-contained avarice. “I think that would be more than fair.”

“Excellent,” the man articulated, ignoring Szimon’s half-gasped ‘thank yous,’ now directing his full attention back to Whisp, drawing himself up to full height. “And you, who are about to enter my employ. What is your name?”

So that was it. No offer, not even a perfunctory question, Whisp’s future once again dictated by the whims of others. Whisp clenched his teeth agains the injustice of his very existence. “Whisp,” he answered, barely keeping the venom from his voice, fists tightening into balls, nails digging into his palms.

“Your real name,” the man growled. Behind him, Szimon gaped, now looking on with unabashed curiosity, a faint patina of guilt oozing from his sweat-beaded forehead.

Long-buried memories, banished ghosts relegated to an afterlife he had not yet experienced rose in Whisp. He squeezed his eyes shut against the assault of emotions, of the sharp knives of betrayal, the deep pools of loss that threatened to overwhelm him. Had it been so long since he had uttered his own name?

Forcing a noisy breath between his teeth, he steeled himself, meeting the icy gaze of the other man, who considered him with keen, intense interest.

“My name is Obi-wan Kenobi.”

For a brief second, the Force surged in a strange, dark elation as the stranger’s eyes glimmered with satisfaction.

“And I am Yan Dooku of Serenno. Come, Obi-wan,” he said, putting an arm around Whisp’s shoulders, leading him away from the confused and quiet scene of pirates, of the doe-eyed stares of what had - for a brief, happy moment - been his family.

From one family to the next, always a visitor. First the Jedi and Qui-gon Jinn, then Bandomeer. Then clinics, then circuses, and now this.

With Dooku.

Something settled in Obi-wan’s gut, not unpleasant. For the first time in years, he allowed himself to open to the Force, wholly and without constraint. This felt right, more right than anything else had in Obi-wan’s life.

“Come,” Dooku repeated, voice warming ever so slightly. “We have much to do.”

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spideystark-2021archive · 4 years

Text

In January of 2000 some good friends from the scientific community rather than the normal billionaire one of Tony Stark, the Parker’s, approached him about being a donor in order for them to become parents due to some fertility issues that had been discovered in regards to Richard. Tony agreed with little convincing and in August of 2001 Peter Parker was born. Tony was made the boys godfather and when his parents died when he was about 7 months old, he took him in and legally claimed him as his own son. There was a lot of shadow and mystery to the rumors of Tony Stark having a child, no one knew who the Mother was and for years they didn’t even know his gender. As he grew his identify was kept a secret, his Aunt May and Uncle Ben’s address being used for school and occasionally staying with them when his Father was away for longer periods and a nanny was a less practical option. Legally Peter’s name has been changed to “Peter Benjamin Stark” he still goes by Parker in school.

Ned found out that Tony Stark was Peter’s dad when he was half asleep one day after a late night stopping some street thugs when he first got his powers, because in that state when Ned said how cool Tony Stark was in reference to an article he was reading Peter said “you think that but” and told him the lame Dad joke he’d said at breakfast that morning.

Peter steals his Dad’s credit card and used it to send 1 or 2 food trucks to known poor/homeless heavy areas to give out food for free. After Tony get’s back to Earth after The Snap he starts doing this in Peter’s place.

Karen was an AI created much sooner in this AU, and a watch with her programing in it was given to him when he was 9.

Peter was 5 when Pepper became Tony’s assistant and 7 when he accidently called her “Mom” for the first time, he was super embarrassed and Pepper blushed slightly but took it in stride, her and Tony using that to get Peter to do things like clean his room ect by telling him “Listen to you Mother” and it started as a joke but now he just calls her Mom in everyday conversation and it confuses new people but they don’t even bother explaining and usually it’s just accepted.

Peter was 8 when Tony was kidnapped and just has no idea what is going on, all he knew was that Miss. Potts was scared, he was pulled out of school for a few months, Happy wouldn’t leave him alone and his Uncle Rodey had told him that a couple hulking marines were going to be staying close to him until his Dad came home. All he really knew was that he hadn’t see his Dad in what seemed like forever and no one would tell him why, which was weird because Tony tended to make sure to find at least 5 minutes in a day to call him even when he was super busy.

Peter was 11 when Loki attacked the City, he’d just happened to be there visiting his Aunt May and when it happened he had run out of the house and made his way to Stark Tower, the Karen helping lead the way there despite telling him what a horrible idea it was. He barely made it there, ducking behind things and even inside of a dumpster or two. Tony see’s him right before Loki shows up and doesn’t have enough time to get mad, just enough time to force him into a safe room hidden in the wall behind where he was standing when Loki entered. Peter is smart like his Dad though, he managed to get out and sees his Dad fly through the wormhole. He nearly jumped off the edge when he saw him. Erik had been coming to check on him though after Natasha told him to, and grabbed him right before he jumped after his Father.

By 2014 Peter has been bitten and grained powers, try as he might Tony can’t stop his son from fighting bad guys when he can literally just scale headfirst down the Tower. And that’s just before he creates his web fluid and web shooters. This is part of what drives him into wanting to create Ultron. Everything goes wrong though and shit hits the fan, and when it does they can’t find Peter and Tony fears the worst. Then they get to Clints home though and there he is playing with and entertaining the younger kids and the grip of panic that had been holding him dissipated a little.

When the Avengers go to fight Ultron there is a huge argument between him and Tony, he wants to come and help. He has powers and the suit he made, he can help. In the end Tony wins and Peter stays behind at the Farm House, he spends most of the time in Teen Angst Mode and makes Laura dread her own children becoming teenagers.

In Civil War he’s ecstatic when Tony let’s him join the fight and help, though he in all honesty only does it because of the fact he knows none of the others would really hurt him. When he ends up with a black eye though he regrets it, telling him “Go or I’m calling your Mother!”

After Civil War when his Dad got on board with him being a small time neighborhood hero? Peter was very excited, and was more than happy to give both Tony and Happy updates regularly. Though he knew that Pepper wasn’t entirely happy about it? He knew that at least she was glad he was doing it with his Dad behind him rather than behind their backs.

After Peter’s screw up that ended in Tony taking the suit away and telling him he was done with crime fighting until he could grow up and think before he acted? Peter wasn’t all that surprised that Happy shut Ned down when he called him, but he hoped that his Dad would get there to help him sooner rather than later. Instead? He’d had to fight Vulture on his own, and had hidden off to the side when Happy and the other’s got there. He got the other’s attention by hitting him behind the ear with a tiny bit of web fluid and Happy expressed that he was glad Peter was okay but then shooed him off before anyone could notice him since his mask was gone.

After this happened Tony offered to Peter both officially introducing him to the world as Spiderman, and his son. He turned this down however, telling his Dad that he wanted to stay lowkey a while longer. In reality? He hadn’t exactly told his Dad everything that he went through in the battle with Vulture, and he both didn’t want to leave his friends behind as well as wanting more time to process what he’d been through. He already had a therapist he saw once a month, but now he bumped it up to twice a month and when needed weekly with no explanation to Tony.

Eventually at some point between his fight with Vulture and the space ship showing up on earth he asks Tony to come with him to one of his sessions, and finally tells him about everything that happened during that first big super hero battle of his.

When the space ship shows up on earth and Peter joins in on the fight, he nearly listens when Tony tells him to go home. But then he realizes that he didn’t know if he could handle it if his Dad died and he could have done something to stop it, and so instead? He clings onto the space ship and makes his way inside.

This drabble I wrote is 100% tied into my Peter’s story

After The Snap the world finds out who Peter is in regards to him being Tony’s son unless otherwise plotted, a memorial for him being held for him where the truth comes out about his identity like it was for many of those who disappeared. Ned had already known and MJ had her suspicions. But other than that a lot of people started treating him differently, he brushed most of them off but he was also secretly kind of glad that Flash still treated him exactly the same. Being bullied sucked and the guy was an ass, but at least he wasn’t trying to pretend he wanted to be his friend like so many people who had ignored him and/or his being bullied in the past. Because of this, its theorize by a lot of people before the end of his junior year that he is Spiderman because of the fact that Iron Man was his Father and seemed to have taken the younger hero under his wing. By the start of his Senior year the truth about who Spiderman is has been completely accepted, even if not confirmed by anyone who would know for sure.

Within a year of coming back from The Blip, Peter has changed his hero name to Iron Spider in order to honor his Father (or in the case of Tony still being alive, to signify him taking his place in the Avengers)

#;;Muse Info

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blindrapture · 4 years

Text

Under the Read More, I will put a single-sentence question, followed by its answer. This is from Finnegans Wake. For the record, the question is asking “who was the person who matched this description.”

What secondtonone myther rector and maximost bridgesmaker was the first to rise taller through his beanstale than the bluegum buaboababbaun or the giganteous Wellingtonia Sequoia; went nudiboots with trouters into a liffeyette when she was barely in her tricklies; was well known to claud a conciliation cap onto the esker of his hooth; sports a chainganger’s albert solemenly over his hullender’s epulence; thought he weighed a new ton when there felled his first lapapple; gave the heinousness of choice to everyknight betwixt yesterdicks and twomaries; had sevenal successivecoloured serebanmaids on the same big white drawringroam horthrug; is a Willbeforce to this hour at house as he was in heather; pumped the catholick wartrey and shocked the prodestung boyne; killed his own hungery self in anger as a young man; found fodder for five when allmarken rose goflooded; with Hirish tutores Cornish made easy; voucher of rotables, toll of the road; bred manyheaded stepsons for one leapyourown taughter; is too funny for a fish and has too much outside for an insect; like a heptagon crystal emprisoms trues and fauss for us; is infinite swell in unfitting induments; once was he shovelled and once was he arsoned and once was he inundered and she hung him out billbailey; has a quadrant in his tile to tell Toler cad a’clog it is; offers chances to Long on but stands up to Legge before; found coal at the end of his harrow and mossroses behind the seams; made a fort out of his postern and wrote F.E.R.T. on his buckler; is escapemaster-in-chief from all sorts of houdingplaces; if he outharrods against barkers, to the shoolbred he acts whiteley; was evacuated at the mere appearance of three germhuns and twice besieged by a sweep; from zoomorphology to omnianimalism he is brooched by the spin of a coin; towers, an eddistoon amid the lampless, casting swannbeams on the deep; threatens thunder upon malefactors and sends whispers up fraufrau’s froufrous; when Dook Hookbackcrook upsits his ass booseworthies jeer and junket but they boos him oos and baas his aas when he lukes like Hunkett Plunkett; by sosannsos and search a party on a lady of this city; business, reading newspaper, smoking cigar, arranging tumblers on table, eating meals, pleasure, etcetera, etcetera, pleasure, eating meals, arranging tum-blers on table, smoking cigar, reading newspaper, business; minerals, wash and brush up, local views, juju toffee, comic and birthdays cards; those were the days and he was their hero; pink sunset shower, red clay cloud, sorrow of Sahara, oxhide on Iren; arraigned and attainted, listed and lited, pleaded and proved; catches his check at banck of Indgangd and endurses his doom at chapel exit; brain of the franks, hand of the christian, tongue of the north; commands to dinner and calls the bluff; has a block at Morgen’s and a hatache all the afternunch; plays gehamerat when he’s ernst but misses mausey when he’s lustyg; walked as far as the Head where he sat in state as the Rump; shows Early English tracemarks and a marigold window with manigilt lights, a myrioscope, two remarkable piscines and three wellworthseeing ambries; arches all portcullised and his nave dates from dots; is a horologe unstoppable and the Benn of all bells; fuit, isst and herit and though he’s mildewstaned he’s mouldystoned; is a quercuss in the forest but plane member for Megalopolis; mountunmighty, faunonfleetfoot; plank in our platform, blank in our scouturn; hidal, in carucates he is enumerated, hold as an earl, he counts; shipshaped phrase of buglooking words with a form like the easing moments of a graminivorous; to our dooms brought he law, our manoirs he made his vill of; was an overgrind to the underground and acqueduced for fierythroats; sends boys in socks acoughawhooping when he lets farth his carbonoxside and silk stockings show her shapings when he looses hose on hers; stocks dry puder for the Ill people and pinkun’s pellets for all the Pale; gave his mundyfoot to Miserius, her pinch to Anna Livia, that superfine pigtail to Cerisia Cerosia and quid rides to Titius, Caius and Sempronius; made the man who had no notion of shopkeepers feel he’d rather play the duke than play the gentleman; shot two queans and shook three caskles when he won his game of dwarfs; fumes inwards like a strombolist till he smokes at both ends; manmote, befier of him, womankind, pietad!; shows one white drift of snow among the gorsegrowth of his crown and a chaperon of repentance on that which shed gore; pause and quies, triple bill; went by metro for the polis and then hoved by; to the finders, hail! woa, you that seek!; whom fillth had plenished, dearth devoured; hock is leading, cocoa comes next, emery tries for the flag; can dance the O’Bruin’s polerpasse at Noolahn to his own orchistruss accompaniment; took place before the internatural convention of catholic midwives and found stead before the congress for the study of endonational calamities; makes a delictuous entrée and finishes off the course between sweets and savouries; flouts for forecasts, flairs for finds and the fun of the fray on the fairground; cleared out three hundred sixty five idles to set up one all khalassal for henwives hoping to have males; the flawhoolagh, the grasping one, the kindler of paschal fire; forbids us our trespassers as we forgate him; the phoenix be his pyre, the cineres his sire!; piles big pelium on little ossas like the pilluls of hirculeads; has an eatupus complex and a drinkthedregs kink; wurstmeats for chumps and cowcarlows for scullions; when he plies for our favour is very trolly ours; two psychic espousals and three desertions; may be matter of fact now but was futter of magd then; Cattermole Hill, exmountain of flesh was reared up by stress and sank under strain; tank it up, dank it up, tells the tailor to his tout; entoutcas for a man, but bit a thimble for a maid; blimp, blump; a dud letter, a sing a song a sylble; a byword, a sentence with surcease; while stands his canyouseehim frails shall fall; was hatched at Cellbridge but ejoculated abrood; as it gan in the biguinnengs so wound up in a battle of Boss; Roderick, Roderick, Roderick, O, you’ve gone the way of the Danes; variously catalogued, regularly regrouped; a bushboys holoday, a quacker’s mating, a wenches’ sandbath; the same homoheatherous checkinlossegg as when sollyeye airly blew ye; real detonation but false report; spa mad but inn sane; half emillian via bogus census but a no street hausmann when allphannd; is the handiest of all andies and a most alleghant spot to dump your hump; hands his secession to the new patricius but plumps plebmatically for the bloody old centuries; eats with doors open and ruts with gates closed; some dub him Rotshield and more limn him Rockyfellow; shows he’s fly to both demisfairs but thries to cover up his tracers; seven dovecotes cooclaim to have been pigeonheim to this homer, Smerrnion, Rhoebok, Kolonsreagh, Seapoint, Quayhowth, Ashtown, Ratheny; independent of the lordship of chamberlain, acknowledging the rule of Rome; we saw thy farm at Useful Prine, Domhnall, Domhnall; reeks like Illbelpaese and looks like Iceland’s ear; lodged at quot places, lived through tot reigns; takes a szumbath for his weekend and a wassarnap for his refreskment; after a good bout at stoolball enjoys Giroflee Giroflaa; what Nevermore missed and Colombo found; believes in everyman his own goaldkeeper and in Africa for the fullblacks; the arc of his drive was forty full and his stumps were pulled at eighty; boasts him to the thick-in-thews the oldest creater in Aryania and looks down on the Suiss family Collesons whom he calls les nouvelles roches; though his heart, soul and spirit turn to pharaoph times, his love, faith and hope stick to futuerism; light leglifters cense him souriantes from afore while boor browbenders curse him grommelants to his hindmost; between youlasses and yeladst glimse of Even; the Lug his peak has, the Luk his pile; drinks tharr and wodhar for his asama and eats the unparishable sow to styve off reglar rack; the beggars cloak them reclined about his paddystool, the whores winken him as they walk their side; on Christienmas at Advent Lodge, New Yealand, after a lenty illness the roeverand Mr Easterling of pentecostitis, no followers by bequest, fanfare all private; Gone Where Glory Waits Him (Ball, bulletist) but Not Here Yet (Maxwell, clark); comminxed under articles but phoenished a borgiess; from the vat on the bier through the burre in the dark to the buttle of the bawn; is A1 an the highest but Roh re his root; filled fanned of hackleberries whenas all was tuck and toss up for him as a yangster to fall fou of hockinbechers wherein he had gauged the use of raisin; ads aliments, das doles, raps rustics, tams turmoil; sas seed enough for a semination but sues skivvies on the sly; learned to speak from hand to mouth till he could talk earish with his eyes shut; hacked his way through hickheckhocks but hanged hishelp from there hereafters; rialtos, annesleyg, binn and balls to say nothing atolk of New Comyn; the gleam of the glow of the shine of the sun through the dearth of the dirth on the blush of the brick of the viled ville of Barnehulme has dust turned to brown; these dyed to tartan him, rueroot, dulse, bracken, teasel, fuller’s ash, sundew and cress; long gunn but not for cotton; stood his sharp assault of famine but grew girther, girther and girther; he has twenty four or so cousins germinating in the United States of America and a namesake with an initial difference in the once kingdom of Poland; his first’s a young rose and his second’s French-Egyptian and his whole means a slump at Christie’s; forth of his pierced part came the woman of his dreams, blood thicker then water last trade overseas; buyshop of Glintylook, eorl of Hoed; you and I are in him surrented by brwn bldns; Elin’s flee polt pelhaps but Hwang Chang evelytime; he one was your of highbigpipey boys but fancy him as smoking fags his at time of life; Mount of Mish, Mell of Moy; had two cardinal ventures and three capitol sinks; has a peep in his pocketbook and a packetboat in his keep; B.V.H., B.L.G., P.P.M., T.D.S., V.B.D., T.C.H., L.O.N.; is Breakfates, Lunger, Diener and Souper; as the streets were paved with cold he felt his topperairy; taught himself skating and learned how to fall; distinctly dirty but rather a dear; hoveth chieftains evrywehr, with morder; Ostman Effendi, Serge Paddishaw; baases two mmany, outpriams al’ his parisites; first of the fenians, roi des fainéants; his Tiara of scones was held unfillable till one Liam Fail felled him in Westmunster; was struck out of his sittem when he rowed saulely to demask us and to our appauling predicament brought as plagues from Buddapest; put a matchhead on an aspenstalk and set the living a fire; speared the rod and spoiled the lightning; married with cakes and repunked with pleasure; till he was buried howhappy was he and he made the welkins ring with Up Micawber!; god at the top of the staircase, carrion on the mat of straw; the false hood of a spindler web chokes the cavemouth of his unsightliness but the nestlings that liven his leafscreen sing him a lover of arbuties; we strike hands over his bloodied warsheet but we are pledged entirely to his green mantle; our friend vikelegal, our swaran foi; under the four stones by his streams who vanished the wassailbowl at the joy of shells; Mora and Lora had a hill of a high time looking down on his confusion till firm look in readiness, forward spear and the windfoot of curach strewed the lakemist of Lego over the last of his fields; we darkened for you, faulterer, in the year of mourning but we’ll fidhil to the dimtwinklers when the streamy morvenlight calls up the sunbeam; his striped pantaloons, his rather strange walk; hereditatis columna erecta, hagion chiton eraphon; nods a nap for the nonce but crows cheerio when they get ecunemical; is a simultaneous equator of elimbinated integras when three upon one is by inspection improper; has the most conical hodpiece of confusianist heronim and that chuchuffuous chinchin of his is like a footsey kungoloo around Taishantyland; he’s as globeful as a gasometer of lithium and luridity and he was thrice ten anular years before he wallowed round Raggiant Circos; the cabalstone at the coping of his cavin is a canine constant but only an amirican could apparoxemete the apeupresiosity of his atlast’s alongement; sticklered rights and lefts at Baddersdown in his hunt for the boar trwth but made his end with the modareds that came at him in Camlenstrete; a hunnibal in exhaustive conflict, an otho to return; burning body to aiger air on melting mountain in wooing wave; we go into him sleepy children, we come out of him strucklers for life; he divested to save from the Mrs Drownings their rival queens while Grimshaw, Bragshaw and Renshaw made off with his storen clothes; taxed and rated, licensed and ranted; his threefaced stonehead was found on a whitehorse hill and the print of his costellous feet is seen in the goat’s grasscircle; pull the blind, toll the deaf and call dumb, lame and halty; Miraculone, Monstrucceleen; led the upplaws at the Creation and hissed a snake charmer off her stays; hounded become haunter, hunter become fox; harrier, marrier, terrier, tav; Olaph the Oxman, Thorker the Tourable; you feel he is Vespasian yet you think of him as Aurelius; whugamore, tradertory, socianist, commoniser; made a summer assault on our shores and begiddy got his sands full; first he shot down Raglan Road and then he tore up Marlborough Place; Cromlechheight and Crommalhill were his farfamed feetrests when our lurch as lout let free into the Lubar heloved; mareschalled his wardmotes and delimited the main; netted before nibbling, can scarce turn a scale but, grossed after meals, weighs a town in himself; Banba prayed for his conversion, Beurla missed that grand old voice; a Colossus among cabbages, the Melarancitrone of fruits; larger than life, doughtier than death; Gran Turco, orege forment; lachsembulger, leperlean; the sparkle of his genial fancy, the depth of his calm sagacity, the clearness of his spotless honour, the flow of his boundless benevolence; our family furbear, our tribal tarnpike; quary was he invincibled and cur was he burked; partitioned Irskaholm, united Irishmen; he took a svig at his own methyr but she tested a bit gorky and as for the salmon he was coming up in him all life long; comm, eilerdich hecklebury and sawyer thee, warden; silent as the bee in honey, stark as the breath on hauwck, Costello, Kinsella, Mahony, Moran, though you rope Amrique your home ruler is Dan; figure right, he is hoisted by the scurve of his shaggy neck, figure left, he is rationed in isobaric patties among the crew; one asks was he poisoned, one thinks how much did he leave; ex-gardener (Riesengebirger), fitted up with planturous existencies would make Roseoogreedy (mite’s) little hose; taut sheets and scuppers awash but the oil silk mack Liebsterpet micks his aquascutum; the enjoyment he took in kay women, the employment he gave to gee men; sponsor to a squad of piercers, ally to a host of rawlies; against lightning, explosion, fire, earthquake, flood, whirlwind, burglary, third party, rot, loss of cash, loss of credit, impact of vehicles; can rant as grave as oxtail soup and chat as gay as a porto flippant; is unhesitent in his unionism and yet a pigotted nationalist; Sylviacola is shy of him, Matrosenhosens nose the joke; shows the sinews of peace in his chest-o-wars; fiefeofhome, ninehundred and thirtunine years of copyhold; is aldays open for polemypolity’s sake when he’s not suntimes closed for the love of Janus; sucks life’s eleaxir from the pettipickles of the Jewess and ruoulls in sulks if any popeling runs down the Huguenots; Boomaport, Walleslee, Ubermeerschall Blowcher and Supercharger, Monsieur Ducrow, Mister Mudson, master gardiner; to one he’s just paunch and judex, to another full of beans and brehons; hallucination, cauchman, ectoplasm; passed for baabaa blacksheep till he grew white woo woo woolly; was drummatoysed by Mac Milligan’s daughter and put to music by one shoebard; all fitzpatricks in his emirate remember him, the boys of wetford hail him babu; indanified himself with boro tribute and was schenkt publicly to brigstoll; was given the light in drey orchafts and entumuled in threeplexes; his likeness is in Terrecuite and he giveth rest to the rainbowed; lebriety, frothearnity and quality; his reverse makes a virtue of necessity while his obverse mars a mother by invention; beskilk his gunwale and he’s the second imperial, untie points, unhook tenters and he’s lath and plaster; calls upon Allthing when he fails to appeal to Eachovos; basidens, ardree, kongsemma, rexregulorum; stood into Dee mouth, then backed broadside on Baulacleeva; either eldorado or ultimate thole; a kraal of fou feud fires, a crawl of five pubs; laid out lashings of laveries to hunt down his family ancestors and then pled double trouble or quick quits to hush the buckers up; threw pebblets for luck over one sodden shoulder and dragooned peoplades armed to their teeth; pept as Gaudio Gambrinus, grim as Potter the Grave; ace of arts, deuce of damimonds, trouble of clubs, fear of spates; cumbrum, cumbrum, twiniceynurseys fore a drum but tre to uno tips the scale; reeled the titleroll opposite a brace of girdles in Silver on the Screen but was sequenced from the set as Crookback by the even more titulars, Rick, Dave and Barry; he can get on as early as the twentysecond of Mars but occasionally he doesn’t come offbefore Virgintiquinque Germinal; his Indian name is Hapapoosiesobjibway and his number in arithmosophy is the stars of the plough; took weapon in the province of the pike and let fling his line on Eelwick; moves in vicous cicles yet remews the same; the drain rats bless his offals while the park birds curse his floodlights; Portobello, Equadocta, Therecocta, Percorello; he pours into the softclad shellborn the hard cash earned in Watling Street; his birth proved accidental shows his death its grave mistake; brought us giant ivy from the land of younkers and bewitthered Apostolopolos with the gale of his gall; while satisfied that soft youthful bright matchless girls should bosom into fine silkclad joyous blooming young women is not so pleased that heavy swearsome strongsmelling irregularshaped men should blottout active handsome wellformed frankeyed boys; herald hairyfair, alloaf the wheat; husband your aunt and endow your nepos; hearken but hush it, screen him and see; time is, an archbishopric, time was, a tradesmen’s entrance; beckburn brooked with wath, scale scarred by scow; his rainfall is a couple of kneehighs while his meanst grass temperature marked three in the shade; is the meltingpoint of snow and the bubblingplace of alcohol; has a tussle with the trulls and then does himself justice; hinted at in the eschatological chapters of Humphrey’s Justesse of the Jaypees and hunted for by Theban recensors who sniff there’s something behind the Bug of the Deaf; the king was in his cornerwall melking mark so murry, the queen was steep in armbour feeling fain and furry, the mayds was midst the hawthorns shoeing up their hose, out pimps the back guards (pomp!) and pump gun they goes; to all his foretellers he reared a stone and for all his comethers he planted a tree; forty acres, sixty miles, white stripe, red stripe, washes his fleet in annacrwatter; whou missed a porter so whot shall he do for he wanted to sit for Pimploco but they’ve caught him to stand for Sue?; Dutchlord, Dutchlord, overawes us; Headmound, king and martyr, dunstung in the Yeast, Pitre-le-Pore-in Petrin, Barth-the-Grete-by-the-Exchange; he hestens towards dames troth and wedding hand like the prince of Orange and Nassau while he has trinity left behind him like Bowlbeggar Bill-the-Bustonly; brow of a hazelwood, pool in the dark; changes blowicks into bullocks and a well of Artesia into a bird of Arabia; the handwriting on his facewall, the cryptoconchoidsiphonostomata in his exprussians; his birthspot lies beyond the herospont and his burialplot in the pleasant little field; is the yldist kiosk on the pleninsula and the unguest hostel in Saint Scholarland; walked many hundreds and many score miles of streets and lit thousands in one nightlights in hectares of windows; his great wide cloak lies on fifteen acres and his little white horse decks by dozens our doors; O sorrow the sail and woe the rudder that were set for Mairie Quai!; his suns the huns, his dartars the tartars, are plenty here today; who repulsed from his burst the bombolts of Ostenton and falchioned each flash downsaduck in the deep; apersonal problem, a locative enigma; upright one, vehicule of arcanisation in the field, lying chap, floodsupplier of celiculation through ebblanes; a part of the whole as a port for a whale; Dear Hewitt Castello, Equerry, were daylighted with our outing and are looking backwards to unearly summers, from Rhoda Dundrums; is above the seedfruit level and outside the leguminiferous zone; when older links lock older hearts then he’ll resemble she; can be built with glue and clippings, scrawled or voided on a buttress; the night express sings his story, the song of sparrownotes on his stave of wires; he crawls with lice, he swarms with saggarts; is as quiet as a mursque but can be as noisy as a sonogog; was Dilmun when his date was palmy and Mudlin when his nut was cracked; suck up the sease, lep laud at ease, one lip on his lap and one cushlin his crease; his porter has a mighty grasp and his baxters the boon of broadwhite; as far as wind dries and rain eats and sun turns and water bounds he is exalted and depressed, assembled and asundered; go away, we are deluded, come back, we are disghosted; bored the Ostrov, leapt the Inferus, swam the Mabbul and flure the Moyle; like fat, like fatlike tallow, of greasefulness, yea of dripping greasefulness; did not say to the old, old, did not say to the scorbutic, scorbutic; he has founded a house, Uru, a house he has founded to which he has assigned its fate; bears a raaven geulant on a fjeld duiv; ruz the halo offhis varlet when he appeared to his shecook as Haycock, Emmet, Boaro, Toaro, Osterich, Mangy and Skunk; pressed the beer of aled age out of the nettles of rashness; put a roof on the lodge for Hymn and a coq in his pot pro homo; was dapifer then pancircensor then hortifex magnus; the topes that tippled on him, the types that toppled off him; still starts our hares yet gates our goat; pocketbook packetboat, gapman gunrun; the light of other days, dire dreary darkness; our awful dad, Timour of Tortur; puzzling, startling, shocking, nay, perturbing; went puffing from king’s brugh to new customs, doffing the gibbous off him to every breach of all size; with Pa’s new heft and Papa’s new helve he’s Papapa’s old cutlass Papapapa left us; when youngheaded oldshouldered and middlishneck aged about; caller herring everydaily, turgid tarpon overnight; see Loryon the comaleon that changed endocrine history by loeven his loaf with forty bannucks; she drove him dafe till he driv her blind up; the pigeons doves be perchin all over him one day on Baslesbridge and the ravens duv be pitchin their dark nets after him the next night behind Koenigstein’s Arbour; tronf of the rep, comf of the priv, prosp of the pub; his headwood it’s ideal if his feet are bally clay; he crashed in the hollow of the park, trees down, as he soared in the vaguum of the phoenix, stones up; looks like a moultain boultter and sounds like a rude word; the mountain view, some lumin pale round a lamp of succar in boinyn water; three shots a puddy at up blup saddle; made up to Miss MacCormack Ni Lacarthy who made off with Darly Dermod, swank and swarthy; once diamond cut garnet now dammat cuts groany; you might find him at the Florence but watch our for him in Wynn’s Hotel; theer’s his bow and wheer’s his leaker and heer lays his bequiet hearse, deep; Swed Albiony, likeliest villain of the place; Hennery Canterel—Cockran, eggotisters, limitated; we take our tays and frees our fleas round sadurn’s mounted foot; built the Lund’s kirk and destroyed the church’s land; who guesse his title grabs his deeds; fletch and prities, fash and chaps; artful Juke of Wilysly; Hugglebelly’s Funniral; Kukkuk Kallikak; heard in camera and excruciated; boon when with benches billeted, bann if buckshotbackshattered; heavengendered, chaosfoedted, earthborn; his father presumptively ploughed it deep on overtime and his mother as all evince must have travailled her fair share; a footprinse on the Megacene, hetman unwhorsed by Searingsand; honorary captain of the extemporised fire brigade, reported to be friendly with the police; the door is still open; the old stock collar is coming back; not forgetting the time you laughed at Elder Charterhouse’s duckwhite pants and the way you said the whole township can see his hairy legs; by stealth of a kersse her aulburntress abaft his nape she hung; when his kettle became a hearthsculdus our thorstyites set their lymphyamphyre; his yearletter concocted by masterhands of assays, his hallmark imposed by the standard of wrought plate; a pair of pectorals and a triplescreen to get a wind up; lights his pipe with a rosin tree and hires a towhorse to haul his shoes; cures slavey’s scurvy, breaks barons boils; called to sell polosh and was found later in a bedroom; has his seat of justice, his house of mercy, his com o’copious and his stacks a’rye; prospector, he had a rooksacht, retrospector, he holds the holpenstake; won the freedom of new yoke for the minds of jugoslaves; acts active, peddles in passivism and is a gorgon of selfridgeousness; pours a laughsworth of his illformation over a larmsworth of salt; half heard the single maiden speech La Belle spun to her Grand Mount and wholed a lifetime by his ain fireside, wondering was it hebrew set to himmeltones or the quicksilversong of qwaternions; his troubles may be over but his doubles have still to come; the lobster pot that crabbed our keel, the garden pet that spoiled our squeezed peas; he stands in a lovely park, sea is not far, importunate towns of X, Y and Z are easily over reached; is an excrescence to civilised humanity and but a wart on Europe; wanamade singsigns to soundsense an yit he wanna git all his flesch nuemaid motts truly prural and plusible; has excisively large rings and is uncustomarily perfumed; lusteth ath he listeth the cleah whithpeh of a themise; is a prince of the fingallian in a hiberniad of hoolies; has a hodge to wherry him and a frenchy to curry him and a brabanson for his beeter and a fritz at his switch; was waylaid of a parker and beschotten by a buckeley; kicks lintils when he’s cuppy and casts Jacob’s arroroots, dime after dime, to poor waifstrays on the perish; reads the charms of H. C. Endersen all the weaks of his evenin and the crimes of Ivaun the Taurrible every strongday morn; soaps you soft to your face and slaps himself when he’s badend; owns the bulgiest bungbarrel that ever was tiptapped in the privace of the Mullingar Inn; was bom with a nuasilver tongue in his mouth and went round the coast of Iron with his lift hand to the scene; raised but two fingers and yet smelt it would day; for whom it is easier to found a see in Ebblannah than for I or you to find a dubbeltye in Dampsterdamp; to live with whom is a lifemayor and to know whom a liberal education; was dipped in Hoily Olives and chrysmed in Scent Otooles; hears cricket on the earth but annoys the life out of predikants; still turns the durc’s ear of Darius to the now thoroughly infurioted one of God; made Man with juts that jerk and minted money mong maney; likes a six acup pudding when he’s come whome sweetwhome; has come through all the eras of livsadventure from moonshine and shampaying down to clouts and pottled porter; woollem the farsed, hahnreich the althe, charge the sackend, writchad the thord; if a mandrake shricked to convultures at last surviving his birth the weibduck will wail bitternly over the rotter’s resurrection; loses weight in the moon night but gird girder by the sundawn; with one touch of nature set a veiled world agrin and went within a sheet of tissuepaper of the option of three gaols; who could see at one blick a saumon taken with a lance, hunters pursuing a doe, a swallowship in full sail, a whyterobe lifting a host; faced flappery like old King Cnut and turned his back like Cincinnatus; is a farfar and morefar and a hoar father Nakedbucker in villas old as new; squats aquart and cracks aquaint when it’s flaggin in town and on haven; blows whiskery around his summit but stehts stout upon his footles; stutters fore he falls and goes mad entirely when he’s waked; is Timb to the pearly mom and Tomb to the mourning night; and an he had the best bunbaked bricks in bould Babylon for his pitching plays he’d be lost for the want of his wan wubblin wall?

Answer: Finn MacCool!

#i was sorely tempted to not put this under a read more and just make this a straight-up post #also there may be typos in there. i spotted one and fixed it but that was by chance.#i love james joyce #and i love very dry absurd humour

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royalcordelia · 6 years

Text

Time Turns to Amber (1/11)

Summary: The line between universes is blurred when Anne Shirley of Green Gables suddenly switches lives with Ann Shirley-Cuthbert, a university student living in the contemporary world. Suddenly Anne must learn how to navigate the modern world, one which contains a boyfriend, a part time job, and another year of university. Meanwhile, Ann struggles to tackle corsets, farming, and a world without electricity. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, but most people can't tell the difference between the redhead they know and the girl who replaced her. Dedicated to the ever-beautiful @hecksinki

A Time Travel, Soulmate AU

Rated T+ • 4.2k words • Read on ao3 • Part Two

Standing in the darkness of the ballroom corner, Anne Shirley watched the dancing couples fly across the room in a flurry of whirling skirts to the rhythm of the waltz. Everything had gone according to plan: the preparations, the ceremony, and thus far, the reception. Anything less than perfect would not have been adequate. Diana Barry deserved the best, after all. That went without saying.

The ceremony was certainly right out of a daydream, with its flower garlands, string quartet, and crystalized colors echoing on the walls like dancing shadows from the chandeliers. Dozens of compliments were paid directly to Miss Josephine Barry, who’d a knack for planning elaborate celebrations and did so annually. But none of the previous soirees or banquets could compare to this magnificent occasion, planned for the bride by her most kindred spirit. Anne had truly outdone herself.

She really should have been happy. After all, she’d never heard of a wedding that didn’t have at least some small little blunder to speak of. But Anne couldn’t help but feel a little bit...well, she might as well come out and admit it - she was jealous.

In the privacy of her own mind, Anne mourned how right the event was. Diana made the perfect bride, and contrary to Anne’s expectations, Jerry Baynard wasn’t all that shabby of a Prince Charming. Each polished spoon and lacy white decoration only suited Diana’s passage into wifehood. Here in this bridal castle, alive with celebration and exuberance, Diana was the queen - queen over a man who adored the very ground she walked on, queen over her new household, queen over a lifetime of happiness. The most beautiful queen that had ever been born in Avonlea.

Anne, on the other hand, felt like a homely side ornament for Diana. She could never hope for such grand celebrations on her behalf. Certainly, Aunt Jo had told her that if she chose to remain unmarried, she could earn the money to host such a celebration, but Anne had a feeling it wasn’t going to be her choice.

If she were to tell the truth, she’d say that she really did yearn for a married life. She ached for a lifemate, her partner and equal. Perhaps it was selfish, but Anne had hoped in the weeks leading up to Diana’s wedding that if some small little thing went wrong, it would mean Diana’s wedding wasn’t to be a seamlessly perfect event. No such inconvenience occurred, and Anne was forced to face the reality that girls like Diana were meant to have resplendent weddings. Girls like Anne were left to have no weddings at all.

“You know, you seem rather dejected for a girl whose best friend is the midst of the happiest day of her life,” a deep, familiar voice said beside her. Anne didn’t have to look away from the waltzing guests to know who it was, but merely leaned her head onto his shoulder.

“I’m not dejected, Cole. I wanted nothing less for Diana today. If I did, I wouldn’t have planned everything so…” Anne sighed. “Dazzlingly exquisite.”

“Then why are you radiating such dark waves, oh picture of joy?”

Anne did look to Cole then, and she could tell immediately that he knew what ill feelings plagued her heart. He simply wanted her to tell him herself, to speak her mind instead of brewing alone in her sorrow.

“The last few weeks of planning this wedding and seeing how Jerry and Diana truly complete one another has made me realize that I am not the marrying sort.”

Cole frowned.

“You don’t want to get married?”

“No, I do, but can you imagine someone looking at me like that?” Anne looked over at Diana and Jerry dancing blissfully in each other’s arms. There was no denying the adoration in Jerry’s eyes, how his love for Diana blossomed from the center of his heart and grew throughout his entire body like a blinding light. “It’s simply impossible.”

“Oh Anne,” Cole reprimanded gently. “Someone does look at you like that. Only every time he does, you pretend not to notice.”

“Not this again,” Anne moaned, turning her back to him. “No matter how many times you say it, it doesn’t get any more true. Gilbert Blythe does not care for me like that.”

“Shall I provide you proof? Look at him with Moody over there. Go on, Anne, look.”

Anne’s heart dropped to the floor when she finally gained the courage to look up

Gilbert Blythe was a sight to behold, with his suit all primly pressed for his best-man duties. The contours of his face were lit by the warm chandelier light, making his cheeks look like sunsets of gold and rose. Just to gaze upon him made Anne feel strangely unsatisfied, as if there was something missing, a hole that was craving to be filled. With what, though?

It only seemed to worsen when he gazed back at her, an unfortunate circumstance for the present moment. True to Cole’s prodding, Gilbert’s eyes were locked on her in an intense fashion that she could always feel on the back of her neck. The connection of their gazes lit Anne into red fire, and for a few moments she sat there simmering, aching. She hoped he would look away first because she couldn’t find it within herself to move, but instead he only smiled. No coy, teasing wink. No smirk of boyish taunting. Genuine affection that Anne could feel as presently inside her as if he were standing just before her brushing hair away from her face.

“Now, I think that has put an end to your nonsense,” Cole murmured into her ear. Anne felt more heat flood into her rosy cheeks when she realized her friend had watched the silent exchange. “Go dance with him.”

“N-no,” Anne stammered shakily. Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to admit that he was wrong, not when Gilbert was looking at her like that. “I think I’ll go steal a dance with the bride.”

As Anne ventured through the room, she wanted nothing more than to lock herself away in a room with Diana and speak all that was on her mind. But there were to be no more late nights with her bosom friend, no more jumping on beds or pretending to be princesses. Those days were buried in a distant past, and had been for years.

Oh, why did everyone have to grow up and change? Why did Diana have to get married and leave her forever? And why did Gilbert insist on looking at her as if she was the most precious thing he’d ever seen?

Diana might have sensed the raging storm in Anne, had she not swallowed it in time for Diana to lay eyes on her. The endless beauty of bridal white and crystals spun to greet Anne with a euphoric grin.

“Mr. Baynard, I do think you have been monopolizing your darling wife far too long this evening,” Diana teased, extending her hand to Anne. “For the next dance, I believe her interests lie elsewhere. Anne, have you room on your dance card?”

“I’d be delighted,” Anne said with a chuckle. The two spun away with an explosion of very unladylike laughter, too busy desperately holding onto one another to correctly perform the steps of the waltz. Eventually, their giggles subsided and Anne pulled Diana close into her arms.

“Anne, what’s wrong, dearest? If you hold onto me any tighter, I think I’ll turn to dust,” Diana said gently. Anne only squeezed a little and buried her face into Diana’s shoulder.

“You know, I always wanted a sister. Now I have one and I already have to let you go so soon.”

“Come on Anne, you know you’ll see me just as much as you always did! I’m not going to let married life get in the way of our friendship. You’re just as much my family as Jerry is.”

“My mind knows it, Diana, but my heart refuses to see reason. I feel like my feet are glued to the center of the world and everything is moving so fast around me. I can’t catch up.”

“You’ll figure everything out, Anne,” Diana comforted. She ran a comforting hand down Anne’s head, and it was all the redhead could do to not let tears trickle down her face. Pulling back, Diana took Anne’s face in her gentle hands and Anne had a stray thought that Diana would make the most spectacular mother one day.

“I know in my heart that your feet will get unstuck soon. Next thing you know, we’ll be planning your wedding.” Diana’s eyes glanced over to where Gilbert was standing with Jerry, the pair of lads watching the girls dance.

“Not you too,” Anne muttered, pulling back. “I simply cannot fathom why everyone believes I should marry Gilbert Blythe.”

“Oh, Anne, I didn’t mean to upset you. You just seem so taken with him these days. You’ve spent practically every day together at Redmond studying, even though you’re both enrolled in different programs! With your graduation just completed, we’ve all assumed that his proposal was inevitable and-”

Anne had heard quite enough, and was quick to intercept whatever terrible thing was about to come out of Diana’s mouth.

“Look at that, Diana! Jerry is positively glaring at me. It seems I have stolen away his wife away for too long. I think I’ll go get some fresh air on the veranda. Aunt Jo says the view of Charlottetown all lit up is positively breathtaking. I’ll return shortly.”

“But Anne!” Diana tried to reach for her, but Anne was too quick to press a kiss to her cheek and scurry away.

The escape wasn’t very genteel in nature, but the feeling of fresh cool air in her lungs crashed into her like the summer tide. With the sun safely set beneath the island horizon, the breeze had taken a slight chill that cooled Anne’s skin from the lace of her own white dress. Aunt Jo’s veranda was truly as magnificent as the rest of the estate, with its view over the city and white marble columns.

Shuffling up to the edge of the balcony, Anne leaned at the railing and tilted her face up to the stars.

“Will you align for me, too?” she asked all the flickering stellar brilliance. Maybe her luck had run dry the day Marilla decided to allow her to stay at Green Gables. Anne shook her head - that was a terribly ungrateful thought to have. She’d never exchange her life at Green Gables for anything. But now that she had tasted happiness, was she to now go without it for the rest of her life? Was her happiness meant to stay stagnant where it was when she was the fresh age of eleven, never to grow?

Suddenly, her thoughts came to a screeching halt.

His presence was tangible behind her, though she didn’t hear him come outside. She waited for his to say something, expectant when he finally called out to her.

“Anne, I’ve come to see if you’re feeling alright. You looked pale when you left,” Gilbert said gently into the night air.

“Just a bit lightheaded. It’s dreadfully warm in there with all the lights and people and dancing,” Anne lied. If she was at all dizzy, it was because even from here she could smell the spicy, earthy scent of him from across the balcony. It was enough to make her knees weak. Gilbert knew Anne well enough to see through the lie, but also knew when to allow her to keep her secrets.

“Alright,” Gilbert he replied carefully. He paused, as if deciding what to do, then cleared his throat. “Would you like some company?”

Against her better judgement, Anne replied with a smile, “Always.”

Gilbert fell by her side, leaning his elbows on the railing just inches away from hers. Hunched over, Anne saw the lines of his back, the strength of his shoulders, the moonlight in his hair. The universe certainly was trying its best to paint this man as her ideal, she realized. Never before had Gilbert been so capable of appearing so melancholy and handsome. The girls of Redmond college certainly said otherwise. It was truly unfair that forces unknown should tempt her with her own preferences in a man that was so very...not her preference - at least romantically. Gilbert was her preference in a conversation partner, dinner company, a friendly rival, and a best friend. In fact, she rather preferred his company more than anyone else’s with the exception of Diana.

“What’s on your mind, Anne-girl?” he asked finally, peering up at her with those hazel eyes that sometimes her dreams tormented her with.

“Anne-girl?” she replied with a chuckle.

“I heard Miss Barry call you that earlier. I like it.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “Don’t think I don’t notice you sidestepping the question.”

“I’m not! It’s just that nothing particular is on my mind.”

Gilbert quirked a brow, thoroughly unconvinced.

“Given the events of today, I find that impossible to believe.” Anne was silent for a moment, her fingers fiddling with the smooth ivy that engulfed the railing.

“Oh alright,” Anne gave in with a sigh. She knew she could trust Gilbert with some of the aches in her heart, if not the aspects that had to do with him. “When we were children, I suppose I always foolishly assumed that Diana and I would find happiness around the same time. That fate had us traveling parallel roads.”

“You’re not happy?” Worry sent a frown on his lips that made Anne feel a little guilty.

“I’m happy enough,” she admitted. “Oh, I feel like a dreadful person. Pretend I never said anything.”

“I’ll do no such thing!” Gilbert straightened his back and turned to face Anne head on. “Not until you tell me what’s bothering you.”

Anne crossed her arms over her chest, averting her gaze from his. What was the point in telling him? There wasn’t a single thing he could do to point her on the right path. Nevertheless, she opened her mouth and it was like an electric switch had been flipped.

“Everyone is growing up and deciding what they want to do with their lives. Meanwhile, odd Anne Shirley is weeks into her graduate life and has no idea where her place is in the world. With Diana married, she won’t have any time to spare for me, I just know it! And Jane is planning on spending the summer in England for missionary work. Even Marilla and Mrs. Lynde have been organizing a Lady’s Aid for the church, and have barely been home. Everyone is doing something with their lives and I can’t seem to make up my mind about anything. Not about my vocation, not about you-”

She froze, hoping that if she covered her tracks soon enough, he wouldn’t catch the little slip, but he was too quick. Gilbert had gained some wisdom about Anne in their years at college, and decided to pretend he heard nothing - even if it did make his heart skip a bit to replay it in his mind.

“I think I know how you feel,” he admitted.

“Now that can’t be true, Gil. You’ve known about what you’ve wanted to do since our schooldays.”

“Maybe in general, but certainly not specifically. There are many branches of medicine, you know. I could specialize in the brain or in general practice, if I wanted. Something tells me I’ll make a wonderful surgeon, but I’m not sure if that’s what I want.”

“I suppose that’s what medical school is for, is it not?”

“It’s not just that,” Gilbert grumbled, a bit frustrated with himself. Anne turned to him and searched for his eyes. She hadn’t seen any of this turmoil in him before, and they saw each other practically every day. “I have what you would call an ideal in my head of what I want my future to be. There’s a white house on the shore, trees, children, laughter and fun…”

Anne dropped her gaze to the ground. That sounded an awful lot of what she’d always dreamed of as well. Unaware of her embarrassment, Gilbert continued.

“I want a simple country practice, Anne. I want to be a reliable, compassionate doctor. Someone the people can trust.”

“You’ll have all those things, Gilbert. I know that for certain.” He was like Diana - favored by the stars and by fate. Handsome and smart, there was no way he’d ever lack in happiness or success.

“But there’s something important missing right now, and I’m afraid that if I don’t gain it now, if I don’t earn it, then my life will always be lacking true happiness.”

For a split moment, Anne wondered what it could possibly be.Then, she looked up at him and her heart halted in her chest. The deepest parts of her soul gave a sigh of anticipation and yearning at the desire in his eyes, like it wanted to be consumed by him. The sensation was overwhelming and foreign, leaving Anne stranded at his side unsure of what to believe and feel. Gilbert took her silence to muster his courage and ask something he wanted to know above all.

“What did you mean before about not being able to make up your mind about me?”

Even in her indecisiveness, Anne knew that this conversation was about to cross a line that she wasn’t prepare to travel over. His eyes were too intense, begging, serious.

“Gilbert, it was nothing. Can we pretend I never said anything in the first place?” Gilbert took a step closer to her, and Anne countered with a few stumbling feet backwards until she was pressed against the railing of the veranda.

“If that’s what you want, Anne, but avoiding me like this isn’t going to help you settle on any decisions. If you’re not honest with me or with yourself, you’re never going to make up your mind about what you want in life.”

“And just what do you think I want, Gilbert Blythe?”

“I think you want someone to stand beside you and love you. I think you want someone to be your equal and support you no matter what path in life you decide to traverse, just so that you won’t be alone when fate tosses you around.” Anne fought back the urge to touch the redness of his cheeks, keeping her fists clenched at her side as he continued. “I’ve not been honest with you all these years, Anne. Not completely.��

The truths of her mind and heart overcame her for a moment and she whispered in a silent plea, “I already know, Gil. You don’t need to say it.”

“I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t. Anne, I-”

She quieted him in the only way that she could. She grabbed him by the collar, pulled herself up onto the balls of her feet, and kissed him. The second her lips made contact with his, Anne felt herself dissolving, but Gilbert wrapped his arms around her before her knees could crumble. She wrapped one around his shoulder, pulling him closer until there was no space for secrets, fears, or longings between them. It was an overwhelming onrush of sensations, with his mouth kissing her with the unrestrained passion he’d locked inside for years and his fingertips gently caressing her cheeks and down her neck. Anne let herself surrender to the need to remain in his embrace, safe and loved, ignoring the cries in her mind that she shouldn’t be doing this. This was Gilbert Blythe, childhood confidant, loyal kindred spirit.

But oh, she could suddenly imagine very simply being a doctor’s wife and having a curly haired, hazel-eyed family. The images came to her mind without any resistance at all - a white house surrounded by dozens of wildflowers, a neat little corner to write in, a husband who looked dreadfully like Gilbert. She could see it all, and she wanted it.

She wanted it enough to let him trail kisses down the soft lines of her chin and down her neck, leaning into him when she felt she might melt into him completely. The sensitive skin erupted into shivers when he lingered at the cleft of her throat, and she ran her fingers through his soft hair.

Then, with a shaky exhale, Gilbert lifted his head back up and looked into her half-lidded eyes.

“I love you,” he said quietly, reverently.

Reality came crashing back onto Anne, and she fought the urge to tear herself out of his arms and run away. Any hopes and dreams she’d drowned in while he kissed her were gone now, replaced by her own logic.

“I...I don’t know how I feel, Gilbert,” she confessed in a frightened whisper. “There’s so much I don’t understand about myself, so much I haven’t decided or discovered. And then there’s Roy to consider. He’s-”

“Roy? ” Gilbert nearly spat. He knew all about Royal Gardner - the wealthy, melancholy English student who had been vying for Anne’s affection since the day he’d offered her his umbrella in a storm. He sent Anne flowers, composed sonnets to her eyes, showered her in gentlemanly praise. He also despised Gilbert, and once openly blamed him for his own failure to capture Anne once and for all.

“Yes, Roy. He cares for me so, and I sometimes I think I must care about him too.” It was a dagger in Gilbert’s heart and he set his jaw. “But then there’s you, Gil.”

“What about me?” he replied flatly.

“I don’t know yet.” Anne took a steadying, shaky breath. “I need time.”

“We’re running low on time, Anne. Gardner is going to want an answer before you move back to Avonlea.”

“What about you?” Anne said, crossing her arms in front of her chest as if to hold her beating heart from breaking out of her.

“I’d wait forever,” he vowed in a low tone. “I’d rather not, but if you need time, Anne, you’ll have it from me.”

“Alright,” Anne said, inhaling late spring air. She gave one last look at Gilbert and his red lips and mussed hair, all effects of the kiss that still had her vibrating with something unknown. Reaching forward, Anne straightened his tie and collar, effectively restoring him to a presentable state, then ran her thumb over his cheek. The skin was damp, whether from sweat or a stray tear, she didn’t know. Then she distanced herself a few steps away.

“Enjoy the rest of the celebration, Mr. Blythe.”

He watched her evaporate into a silhouette against the lighted doorway leading to the manse, artwork in the frame of the present, the past, and a barely attainable future.

Diana and Jerry left for Toronto for their honeymoon at dawn, leaving Anne waving after their departing faces on the morning train.

“Our train is next,” Gilbert said, adjusting his suitcase in his hand.

Anne hadn’t been able look him in the eye since their accidental tryst at the wedding the night before. In fact, she hadn’t been able to sleep, think straight, or look at herself in the mirror without picturing the passionate embrace she’d initiated in the moonlight. She rather wondered if it had happened at all, since Gilbert had mastered the art of acting as if nothing had happened.

“I think I’m going to take a walk up the tracks and enjoy the morning sun for a few minutes. These warm days are so freshly new to us, you know,” she said.

Gilbert knew precisely what she was trying to do. He flashed her a look in his eyes that said very clearly, You can’t avoid me forever, but have it your way, and then nodded.

“Would you like me to come find you a few minutes before the train arrives?”

“No, I should be able to keep track of time well enough by the shadows.”

Gilbert wasn’t convinced. He pulled a copper pocket watch from inside his coat and handed it to Anne. She held it up to her ear and listened to the emphatic ticking. It was plain in appearance, but she’d seen it enough times to know that it had once belonged to John Blythe. She even knew where his initials had once been engraved on the side, now rubbed away with time and wear.

“Here, for security’s sake. Marilla will have my hide if I’m late in getting you home,” Gilbert continued.

“Thanks,” she said, biting her lip under his gaze. “I won’t be gone long.”

As she headed down the railway platform and into the loose grass, Anne couldn’t help but feel as she were walking away from something forever, like the last pages of a book before the cover finally is closed. She stopped and turned back to see Gilbert standing on the platform looking after her with his hands in his pockets.

He raised one hand and waved. Anne, forgetting for a minute the events of the past night, smiled and returned the gesture.

Then she turned her cheeks to the summer fragrance being carried on the wind, and walked along the worn railside.

#anne of green gables #anne with an e #shirbert #anne and gilbert #shirbert ff #tessa writes #it is my sincerest wish that you all enjoy this story #i've always hoped to have a decent mc #Let me know what you think!! <3

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sukipershipper · 5 years

Photo

I don’t know how supportive Tumblr users are of Original characters and stories but I don’t care, here you go. These guys are apart of a series called ‘Rugged’, it will consist of Comics and Short Fics. They are split into two groups, the City Kids (The first Four) and the Country Kids (The Other four)

But enough from me, time to introduce this lot

CITY KIDS

Aiyana Clarissa Alvarenga

BIRTHDAY: 5th July

NICKNAMES: Yana, Paizinho Anjo (Her Dad)

AGE: 18

ETHNICITY: Portuguese/Danish

HEIGHT: 5,7ft

WEIGHT: 78kg

EYE C: Brown/Blue

HAIR C: Brown-Blonde

TRAITS: Absolute Daddy’s Girl, full of herself, can be a snob at times

STORY:

Aiyana was born and raised in the city of Baltimore with her Mother but recently moved to New York to stay with Father, after she became enrolled at NYU (New York University). She stays with her Father in his apartment, which is shared with 2 foreign exchange students. Her hope is that, by the time she graduates, she will become a teacher and take over her father's job, even though her Mother would much prefer she took a course in modelling.

Camille Lucie Claeys

BIRTHDAY: 17th March

NICKNAMES: Cammy

AGE: 21

ETHNICITY: Belgian-Polish

HEIGHT: 6,2 ft

WEIGHT: 83kg

EYE C: Blue

HAIR C: Black

TRAITS: Quiet, Very Posh, Hates going to social events, Fluent in French

STORY:

Camille was raised in New York and was enrolled into NYU (New York University). Her father was of Belgian descent while her Mother was of Polish Descent, and before moving to America had owned a restaurant in Belgium called ‘Dîner au Paradis’, but had to shut it down due to not having enough money to fund the business. Camil’s biggest hope is to graduate from school, and re-open the restaurant in Manhattan.

Miko Airi Kobayashi

BIRTHDAY: 23rd January

NICKNAME(S): Cherry Blossom (Her Parents), Koko

AGE: 19

ETHNICITY: Japanese

HEIGHT: 5,3 ft

WEIGHT: 42kg

EYE C: Brown

HAIR C: Black

TRAITS: Wild Card, Loves her Music, an Otaku, Knows a bit of English.

STORY:

Miko lived in Tokyo, where she studied at Kaisei High School, before moving to America to study at NYU (New York University). She shares an apartment with Aiyana, Mr Alarenga, and one other foreign student. Miko is a girl with a simple plan, she wants to earn a Bachelor of Music and work at NYU as a Recording Engineer, and hopefully, earn a part-time job as a DJ.

Nicholas Rawiri Taumata

BIRTHDAY: 10th November

NICKNAME(S): Nick, Slick, Moko (His Mom and Dad)

AGE: 21

ETHNICITY: Maori

HEIGHT: 6,7ft

WEIGHT: 85 kg

EYE C: Brown

HAIR C: Brown-Black

TRAITS: Quirky, Very Honest (a bit too much), Social Butterfly, Loves sketching

STORY:

Nicholas was born in New Zealand before moving to America, where he is currently attending NYU (New York University). Currently, he lives with Aiyana Alarenga, Mr Alarenga and Miko, until he can afford to get his own house. For the longest time, Nicholas did nothing more but sketch and animated, although his animations needed major improvement in his eyes. Determined to become better, he set off to NYU to take up Graphic Arts.

COUNTRY KIDS

Isaiah Elias Altermatt

BIRTHDAY: 30th October

NICKNAME(S): Mein hübscher Junge (Mom), Izzy

AGE: 28

ETHNICITY: American-African-Swiss

HEIGHT: 7,2 ft

WEIGHT: 125 kg

EYE C: Hazel

HAIR C: Black

TRAITS: Hecking Giant, Farm Boy, Animal Lover

STORY:

Isaiah is a very gentle and hardworking soul, always looking out for family and friends. Once he graduated from high school, he didn’t plan on going to University, he was set on finding a job to help his family out with their finances. An Old friend of his father had reached out to him to tell him about a job opportunity opening up on his farm, willing to make some money, Isaiah had accepted the role. He and his family now live in a house close to the farm.

Hestia Nefertiti Moghadam

BIRTHDAY: 17th November

NICKNAME(S): Tia, Hesty, جوهرة جميلة (Jawhrat Jamila (Her Dad))

AGE: 26

ETHNICITY: American-Arabian

HEIGHT: 6,9ft

WEIGHT: 91kg

EYE C: Light Brown

HAIR C: Black

TRAITS: Optimistic, Hard Working, Welcoming

STORY:

Hestia is a bright and cheerful girl, always able to look on the bright side and can cheer anyone up. Hestia dropped out of University after her Mother died, she decided to earn a job to help her father have money to keep his farmland. During her job search, she came across a local cafe, and after spending a while there, she decided to have a go applying for a job there. Hestia landed a job there as a Barista, and now she greets people with a smiling face as they walk in.

Christopher Matteo Mancini

BIRTHDAY: 5th January

NICKNAME(S): Chris, Noodle, Dipstick

AGE: 28

ETHNICITY: Italian

HEIGHT: 7,0ft

WEIGHT: 119kg

EYE C: Green

HAIR C: Brown

TRAITS: Mischievous, Playful, Active

STORY:

Christopher was born into a very wealthy family, they owned a huge estate in Venice, Italy, his Father was apart of the Mafia, but soon conflict arose as the gang soon started turning on him, believing he sold them out to the police. Wanting to get his family away from the situation, and make sure his children grew up living a better life, they all moved to America. Christopher and his family moved to the countryside, where he found work on a farm and secret life in a criminal gang.

Vincent Liam Tremblay

BIRTHDAY: 22nd December

NICKNAME(S): Vinvin, Vinnie, Stick

AGE: 25

ETHNICITY: Canadian

HEIGHT: 6,1 ft

WEIGHT: 81kg

EYE C: Blue

HAIR C: Dirty Blonde

TRAITS: Outgoing, Young, Adventurous, Kind

STORY:

The youngest of the farm kids, Vincent is a curious being, who wants to discover everything the world had to offer. Vincent grew up in Ottawa, Canada, and came from a pretty poor family (not overly poor, but not overly rich either), and, in a pursuit to make more money for his family, Vincent travelled to New York in search of a job, and found work on a farm, earning a fair amount of money and sending ¾ of his earnings to his parents in Canada.

Hope you guys like it! :D

#Original Characters #Rugged #aiyana alvarenga #camille claeys #miko kobayashi #nicholas taumata #isaiah altermatt #hestia moghadam #christopher mancini #vincent tremblay #stories #my cruddy art

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rue-by-another-name · 6 years

Text

Mes Yeux - h.s. a.u. Part 1

Hi lovely humans! This is the one shot I decided to write after going through countless suggestions and requests. If you’re wondering what has inspired this one shot, it’s a combination of things. Partially the pain felt from The Lumineers song ‘My Eyes’ from their Cleopatra album. There’s a painting by Van Gogh called Cafe Terrace at Night (below) that inspired the location, and also the 1980′s ... which is the time period this one shot takes place.

I think the struggle to maybe attempt a long-distance relationship at a time when there weren’t as many forms of staying in touch is really fascinating and the idea of feeling isolated from those you love due to careers and locations is a beautifully sad thing to explore. I wanted to write something that focused on the characters in the now and together, instead of apart and communicating through multiple forms and technological advancements. Basically, I wanted to write something emotionally mundane and pure about fragile humans.

And with that sad note, I hope you enjoy! (There is another quick note at the end.)

-----

It had been a while since you’d been back to Viv’s villa in the north of Italy. It was 1983 now, but the last time you’d seen the romantic rustic villa it had been the late 70′s and you’d merely been a teenager.

When you were younger, when you were all younger, you’d spent every waking second wishing it were the summer and that you were back playing in the cobble streets. You could still remember the cold water on your sun-kissed skin, and how you’d waited all year to show off your first bikini.

But that was back when you were younger, when you were a child. Even your teen years felt like ages ago, and you hadn’t been back in two years. The last time you’d stepped foot on the gorgeous grounds of the magnificent and old villa had been when you were twenty, and now four years later you were in the back of an old taxi that somehow still ran as you pulled up at the stone castle-esque mansion.

Viv, Vivian Lombard, your childhood best friend, was waiting on the steps for you. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail by a silk scarf, and the sundress she had on made her seem like an ethereal princess.

Nothing had changed.

Immediately she was running up to you as you reached out and nearly screamed in each other’s faces.

“It’s been so long!” Viv cried, crushing you in a hug, “Oh look at you!” She twirled you around as you giggled and fisted your hands in her dress.

“And look at you!” you cried, “Where is the ring; I have to see the ring.”

When you were younger, you and Viv had spent every summer together in Northern Italy. Your parents worked together as professors of history, alongside other scholars who all got together every summer for academic conferences and, basically, vacationing together. There had been a small group of you children who always met up – you and Viv, Geoff, Mari, Luca and Harry. The five of you were so close, and you grew up every summer together.

It had been a while since you’d all been together, since you’d all gone your separate ways and no longer traveled with your parents. But Viv and Geoff were now engaged and it had been Viv’s fabulous idea to bring as many of you together as possible.

“Mari got here an hour ago,” Viv said, looping her arm through yours as you admired the ring on her finger and walked towards the house. “Luca will be here soon.”

“Oi Luca,” you sighed, brushing your hair from your face, “Il mio amore.”

It was common knowledge that Luca had always adored you. When you were younger he had always pushed to spend more time with you. You loved him dearly, but you had never felt anything romantic towards him. At times you had wondered what life with Luca diCastro would be like. What would a life be with a wealthy Italian boy?

But it was not for you.

You were happy in Normandy, and you were happy with your pottery studio. You were glad you’d stayed in France, only moving from Paris to Normandy since your parents still lived in Paris and you wanted to be independent (but not as independent as you had been when you’d gone to uni in Leeds), so Normandy was the right spot.

“Y/N!” Mari came tumbling down the staircase and nearly crashed into you as her small body took you on. “It’s so good to see you! It’s been a full two years! How are you? How is Russell?”

Russell, your little beagle, was essentially your child. As a vet, Mari had helped you care for Russell on multiple occasions over the phone whenever you’d worried for him. If it weren’t for your helicopter parenting over Russell, you honestly wondered if you and Mari would ever truly talk. Though you and Mari had always been close, there was always this invisible wall between the two of you. You weren’t sure why it was there, but you’d never been able to open up and chill with Mari as you could with Viv. You never went out of your way to visit Mari the way you did with Viv.

But you placed those thoughts aside as you and Mari caught up. Geoff came in, a smile taking up his entire face, as he gave you a hug and kissed your forehead. “We’re so happy to have your back Y/N. It’s a miracle you were able to come.” His eyes twinkled.

“It’s good to be back,” you replied honestly. You’d initially had to decline your invitation due to your business possibly not being able to stay open while you were away. Closing your shop for a month was a long time, but your assistant had reassured you everything would be okay, so you’d booked your train ticket last minute.

The door had been open this entire time, and the sound of bags hitting the ground made the four of your turn. “Are you starting the reunion without me?”

Luca stood in the doorway, arms wide open as you all rushed towards him. You couldn’t tell whose arm belonged to whom, but the warmth you felt from your longtime friends was far too sincere and pure to question it.

“Oh it’s been too long by long-lost love,” Luca pretended to wipe tears from his eyes before his kissed your hand. “You are as gorgeous as all the constellations at night and all the flowers in the field under the sunlight.”

“So are you still trying to be a poet then?” Viv smirked and squeezed your shoulders as you all cooed and messed with Luca, the romantic.

“I’m simply overcome with emotion bursting from within me for seeing sweet Y/N again,” he sighed.

“That’s not the only thing that bursts I’m sure when you think of Y/N,” Geoff chuckled, grabbing your bags from the doorway and offering to take them up to your room.

“We figured we could have dinner out back?” Viv suggested, “Under the trees and out of the sun?”

“That sounds very nostalgic,” you smiled, “How can I help with dinner?”

No one mentioned Harry, and you knew it was because he was the busiest of all of you. It was surprising that you were all getting on so well without him here. Though this had always been Viv’s family’s villa, Harry had always sort of run things. But he had done it in a way you’d admired. He was never boastful, never flat-out demanded he lead the pack, but instead he’d kept the peace between all of you and compromised faster than there was an issue.

In the past years Harry had been remarkably busy. You couldn’t imagine the life of a demanding author. He was touring with his novels all the time, and though you had never read one, you knew from the reviews that they were every readers’ dream. You weren’t surprised when Harry became an accomplished author. He’d always had a way with words.

The long table out behind the mansion was just how you remembered it as vines attempted to grow up the legs. The back area behind the mansion seemed to go on for ages, and you’d always enjoyed sprawling out amongst the trees picking apples and reading a book. The thought of doing this again excited you.

The topic of conversation immediately fell to the wedding. “We were thinking of having it here,” Viv suggested, “But Geoff’s parents would rather us get married in a church. We’ll probably end up in Florence.”

“Oh but here would be so lovely,” you cooed, “You met here, and the scenery would be enchanting.”

“My parents are the strongest Florentines to exist on this earth since Donatello and da Vinci. It is already breaking their hearts for us to live in Rome, so marrying in Florence might ease the tide,” Geoff chuckled. You quickly agreed.

It was into dessert that a taxi pulled up and made you all turn to see who would arrive. You watched the yellow vehicle make its way up the twisting dirt road and placed bets on who you figured it would be.

“I bet it’s Gino,” Viv sighed, “Our hedges have been looking so sad lately.”

“Gino is still your gardener?” Mari gasped, “He must be a hundred years old.”

“No darling we asked Tara to come and bring eggs from her farm for breakfast this week,” Geoff reminded his fiancée.

“Or it’s another tourist,” Luca grumbled, “They always find this place romantic.”

The taxi stopped and you squinted against the setting sun to catch a glimpse at the silhouette. Tall, lanky, you merely whispered, “It’s Harry,” before the five of you were standing and screaming that Harry Styles had arrived. He had barely paid the cab driver before you were all throwing yourselves at him. Mari was first, nearly leaping into his arms as you heard his laugh loud and clear. It sent shivers down your spin as you and Viv walked towards where he was kissing Mari’s cheek before letting her down and enveloping Geoff in a hug.

“Some things never change,” Viv chuckled under her breath. You both watched as Mari was nearly going out of her mind. She couldn’t stop bouncing around in the presence of Harry. It was clear very early on as you’d all gotten older that Mari was infatuated by Harry. It seemed she still was.

“Oh mate it’s good to see you,” Harry was saying to Luca as they hugged, “How is your mum? She always sends me the nicest birthday cards.”

Luca laughed, “She’s still in love with you, is what she is.”

“Harry,” Viv smiled brightly, “We thought you weren’t going to make it! This is such a surprise!”

Harry’s face must have hurt from smiling as he bent down and twirled Viv around. “Well, you know, I was thinking about it and I’m too damn young to stick around and work all the time. I was also able to convince my agent that I could use this trip for inspiration for my next book.”

“And what inspiration could we possibly provide?” You couldn’t help yourself as Harry’s face registered shock as he looked at you. Your smile faltered as your eyes finally met, and you cleared your throat before stepping forward and stepping into Harry’s hesitant arms.

“Y/N,” he said softly and pulled away rather quickly, clearing his throat and keeping a smile on his face. The smile wasn’t as genuine as it once was though, and your heart hurt. “I didn’t know you would be here. Viv said you also couldn’t get away from work.”

“It was a last minute decision,” you shrugged, “It all kind of worked out. It is lovely to see you again.”

“Yes,” Harry nodded, “It is.”

“Well!” Geoff clapped his hands as Luca slapped Harry encouragingly on the back. “Wine?”

Harry lugged his bags to the doorway of the villa and left them there before following Geoff into the kitchen to retrieve glasses and a bottle of wine. You sat back down between Viv and Luca, and instantly Luca put his arm around you, pulling you into his side.

As Harry and Geoff arrived, setting down the glasses, Luca said, “The last time I had wine with you vita mia was when we were at that art gallery in Berlin.”

Mari gagged, “Under no circumstances should you ever call Y/N your ‘life.’ It’s too damn weird and even a poet like you has his limits.”

“A poet now?” Harry asked, eyeing the two of you from across the table. “Last I remember Luca you were a photographer?”

“Traveling is not for me,” Luca sighed, “I like being in one place and able to work in comfort.”

“And being out in unfamiliar places, amidst strangers with unlimited potential isn’t of interest to a poet? I thought poems were built on life experiences,” Harry raised an eyebrow over his wine glass as you tried to hold back a laugh by biting your lip.

Luca unwound his arm from you and reached for a wine glass. “It’s a work in process.”

Luca had always been jealous of Harry, and you all could definitely see why. Harry was tall, tan and successful with nice muscles and dimples. Luca was a bit shorter and you were pretty sure he was 24, already balding, and unsure what he wants to do with his life. But he was a trust fund baby, so at least he had the money to do so.

The night continued into the near early morning as you sat around and caught up. You found yourself regarding Harry from time to time over your wine glass, basking in the warmth of your wine and wondering if Harry looked so defined only because of the candles lighting his face.

“I’m so sleepy,” Mari mumbled tiredly. She’d most definitely had the most to drink, and you could tell by the color in her cheeks that she was a bit past tipsy.

“Alright love bug,” Harry chuckled, “Let’s get you to bed then.”

“Oh Harry,” Mari reached for his face, “Would you carry me?”

You watched as Harry scooped her up effortlessly, Viv giggling at how she flopped in his arms. “Same rooms?” Harry asked as he turned to Viv and Geoff.

“The very same sweetheart,” Viv pinched Harry’s cheek, “So happy you showed up.”

Harry adjusted the already asleep Mari in his arms as he smiled down at your friend. “I’m happy I’m here too.”

You lagged behind, cleaning up the glasses and taking them into the kitchen as you bid everyone a goodnight. The moonlight was reflecting off the tiles and the shiny pots and pans as you placed the glasses in the sink and stretched up, yawning.

“So glad I finally got you alone,” Luca smiled as he walked into the kitchen, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something since the moment I saw you.”

“If you’re going to propose, you should know I’m not ready,” you joked. Luca merely rolled his eyes.

“No listen this is serious,” he grasped your hands in his as he leaned against the kitchen island. “I know I’m all over the place with my job, or my ventures, but I’ve been thinking of investing in a small business and was wondering if I could help out your pottery shop.”

You were shocked, to say the least. Under all the flirtatious bravado, you knew Luca to be a really solid and stand up guy, so you weren’t surprised that he was having a serious conversation with you, but more that he was willing to invest with his money.

“Invest?” you questioned him, “Are you serious?”

“Harry was right,” Luca shrugged, “I really am not cut out to be a poet. I’ve always been good with money and I have a business degree. Why not invest?”

“But why me?” you asked.

Luca gave you a pointed look, tilted his head slightly as if questioning if you were really asking that question. “Y/N,” he sighed, “Come on you know why.”

“Well I –”

“I call you at least every other week to check in,” Luca said, “I send you things whenever something reminds me of you. I can tell almost immediately by the tone of your voice when something’s wrong and, Y/N,” Luca paused for a moment and squeezed your hands, “I just feel like we could be good together. I know it’s a schoolboy fantasy, but if I’ve been obsessed with you this long then at least you know my feelings are genuine.”

You pulled your hand from his to rest on his cheek. “Luca you are so sweet,” you whispered, “And you know I love you. I’m just not sure …” You weren’t sure how to phrase it, and you didn’t want to tell Luca the truth, and so you bit your lip.

“I know you’re hesitant,” Luca kissed the palm of your hand, “But at least thing about it? And don’t think that I’m only investing in your shop because I love you.”

You couldn’t help but suck in a breath as Luca spoke of his love for you. You felt awful for turning him down so many times, but you would miss him if you lost him completely. It was the most selfish thing you’d ever done and you knew it.

“I know,” you nodded, “We can talk more about it in the upcoming month, yes?”

“Absolutely,” Luca nodded.

“And who knows, things can change,” you suggested. You wondered if that was true. Could you grow to love Luca the way you’d loved in the past? He was sweet and endearing and he had devoted himself to you on countless occasions. Maybe it truly was possible.

“That’s all I ask,” Luca smiled and leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Don’t stay up to late, okay?”

“I’ll be right up after you,” you nodded, “I’m just going to rinse these glasses.”

“Goodnight Y/N,” Luca smiled before squeezing your hand one more time and leaving up the staircase. You immediately felt exhausted, turning to the sink and resting your elbows on the edge as you covered your face. You hadn’t even finished the day and already you’d had more surprises than you could handle.

“I wish I’d known you would be here.”

Ah yes, another one of the surprises you hadn’t anticipated.

Your body went slightly rigid as you turned and looked to see Harry in the doorway as if he was hesitant to walk all the way in. He shoved his hands in his pockets before stepping into the moonlight and letting out a long breath.

“I didn’t think to reach out because I didn’t think you’d answer,” you said softly. Your heart ached as you looked at him, moonlight catching on the tips of his curls and washing over his neck and face.

Harry nodded, standing across from you as you allowed the kitchen island to create a space between you. You hadn’t seen Harry for three years, and in those past two years you’d both changed quite significantly.

You and Harry stared at each other for a moment, each regarding one another, before Harry finally said, “How have you been?”

“Good. The pottery shop has been really successful. How has writing been?”

“I’m at a bit of a block at the moment but I’m hoping that’ll change soon.”

You nodded and crossed your arms in an attempt to hide your aching heart. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Harry whispered. “I’m sorry things … I’m sorry for the way things went.”

“I think we always knew things wouldn’t work out,” you admitted, “That’s why we never told anyone.”

“Leaving you was so difficult.” Harry’s voice cracked in the middle of the sentence and he ran his fingers through his hair nervously. You felt as though you could cry at any moment. You never thought you’d be this close to Harry ever again, let alone have a conversation with him. You figured you’d have to see each other at Viv and Geoff’s wedding, but weddings involve so many people that you had been determined to avoid him.

“It was for both of us,” you acknowledged and reached for a dish towel to finish cleaning the glasses.

The last time you and your friends had spent the summer at Viv’s villa was when you were all twenty. You were all still in uni but hadn’t gotten internships yet, and you were just starting to figure out your life. Everything was just as it had always been. You spent days exploring the little villages and lounging by the lagoon out behind the villa. You drove to the beach for the day and spent days out on the boat. Your nights were spent dancing at clubs or at outside parties and you would drink until your brain was just fuzzy enough for everything to make you giggle.

There had always been something between you and Harry. The two of you were the closest of the six. Your final year before going off to uni, Harry had spent the year living with you and your family in Paris as an exchange student. The constant close proximity, spending hours together in school working hard, and then being in what seemed like the real world compared to the magic summers you’d spent together solidified both of your suspicions that the interest you’d felt for one another was much more than just a summertime fling.

Neither of you acted on it, however, considering you were both staying under the roof of your parents. And the following summer before going off to uni both of you were far too scared and naïve to do anything about it. It took spending a year apart in new worlds for you both to come back after your first year at uni to really feel the true ache of being apart.

It was the middle of that summer that you started stealing away to kiss in the vineyard, or spend nights skinny-dipping in the lagoon. You spent long nights in each other’s beds and you felt you were pouring your soul into Harry’s endless light green eyes. You’d both gone out into the world and changed, and now that you were back in Northern Italy with the summer to waste away, you wanted to be together.

It was all in secret though, of course. Mari was obviously crushing on Harry, as she always had been, and she was already irritable enough that you’d spent the whole year with Harry all to yourself. Viv tried to tell Mari that the two of you spent so much time together because you’d become like brother and sister during the school year. But you had a feeling Viv knew what you and Harry were up to. She’d always known everything about you before you’d had to tell her.

The summer ended and you all parted ways back to your respective universities. Looking back, you had a feeling you all knew that was your last summer together. After your second year at uni things got a bit more serious in regards to careers and internships that having a whole summer free would be a miracle. But you were back to Leeds and Harry back to Cambridge.

You felt lucky considering you and Harry ended up in school in the same country, and a foreign world for you was his homeland. You visited each other as much as you could, continuing to drown in each other’s affection, and things seemed so effortless and surreal.

But of course it all fell apart unexpectedly. You spent summers busy and apart, both working, and hardly were able to keep in touch. You were separated from what felt like who you truly were spending a summer away from Harry and the others, and you started to feel guilty that you were spending so much time trying to catch up with Harry when you hadn’t called any of your other friends in weeks.

It fell apart slowly. You stopped visiting one another and you were crying over the phone more than you were talking. Things just weren’t working out so far apart, and upon graduation it was obvious you were both moving on.

You did have one moment though before you officially parted ways. It was two weeks after you’d graduated. You’d moved to Normandy and found your small shop. The tiny flat above the shop was endearing and everything a uni graduate could possibly want. Viv and Geoff had already come by to visit and catch up, and you knew Luca would be coming around the following week. But what you didn’t expect was to find Harry outside your shop waiting for you early in the morning.

Considering you never really deemed what your relationship was, you weren’t entirely sure how to word a break up. It was difficult since you both still loved one another, and it wasn’t that you were falling out of love, it was that you were falling so deeply in love that the idea of being apart was more painful than trying to be together.

You spent the morning drinking tea and catching up. Harry told you he was going to try writing and being a novelist, and you encouraged him to do so. There was this unspoken understanding that, in order to minimize pain, you both wouldn’t see each other again unless necessary. And so that day you didn’t unpack anything. That day you stayed in bed (or on your mattress on the floor) and you pressed your lips to every part of Harry he would offer you, and he did the same.

If you closed your eyes and laid very still even now, you could still remember the way his hands felt on your body that day, and the hot tears that had collected on your neck as he’d sobbed against you. You’d clung so hard to him that day and late into the night that when he left the next morning there were fingerprints on his shoulders from where you’d gripped him in hopes he wouldn’t leave.

That was three years ago, and since then you’d tried your best to keep away. You were so proud of him and you’d heard so many great things through Viv and the others, but you’d not wanted to throw yourself at him in any way.

But now here you both were standing in the kitchen at one in the morning. You had a whole month ahead of you, and considering you were back where it had all started, you were overly emotional as is.

“Y/N I –” Harry stopped himself as he stepped around the island and you reached out, fisting your hand in his shirt. You both seemed to be holding your breath as his arms wrapped slowly around your waist. It felt natural and his body was warm against yours as you arched slightly into him, pressing as much of your weight slowly against him as he leaned against the island and rested his forehead to yours.

Your whole body seemed to be vibrating as the energy within you was about to burst. Your hands came to hold Harry’s arms that were locked around your waist and you brushed your nose against Harry’s as you both stood there. Your mouth was open slightly, working against your brain as you tried your best to tear away but couldn’t.

Harry moaned as he held you closer, his fingertips digging into your skin as you furrowed your eyebrows and sucked in a breath when your lips were a breath apart and you could feel his breath on your face. His eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks as his top lip brushed against yours, catching between your lips before he ducked his head and rested his forehead in the crook of your neck.

“We can’t we can’t we can’t,” he whispered softly. “It’ll just be the same.”

You nodded, reaching up and entwining your fingers in his curls to press his face closer to you as if you were asking him to just consume you.

Finally, you realized you were the one that needed to pull away as you let go of Harry and stepped back. His arms fell to his sides and he cleared his throat. “Are you in a relationship?” he asked, “Have you been?”

“Nia and I broke up about a year ago,” you bit your lip, “We only dated for five months but I liked her. She as sweet and nice to me always.”

“I haven’t,” Harry mumbled, “I’ve … I’ve been with people but I haven’t …” He cleared his throat and looked out the window. Three years was a long time, and you had been in an actual relationship. Just hearing that Harry had been with other women hurt your heart, and you couldn’t even imagine what Harry must feel knowing you’d had strong enough feelings for someone to actually be with them.

“Luca,” you cleared your throat, “Luca offered to help finance my business. He wants to invest.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, “That’s very kind of him. He’s in love with you. He always has been.” Harry crossed his arms as he continued to lean against the kitchen island, his back slumped slightly and legs crossed in front of him.

“He said that’s not why he’s interested,” you stated, “But … But the feelings have always been there.”

“And you’re far too kind to be with anyone else while he’s being so giving to you,” Harry nodded, “You were always the noblest of us all.”

“Well Mari still seems interested in you,” you suggested, “Could you ever …?”

Just by the look on Harry’s face you got a bad feeling. You took a step farther back, a stumble more like, as Harry covered his face with his hands. “Harry,” you whispered.

“We didn’t sleep together,” Harry said quickly, “But I … she’s visited often and whenever I was close I would stop by. I entertained a few dates. We … we made out heavily once.”

“Oh her poor heart,” you whispered, “How could you take advantage of her like that?”

“Oh please,” Harry scoffed, “I told her from the start I wasn’t interested in her like that. But you know how good she is at getting us all drunk.”

You tsked before reaching for your chest as it felt it was caving in. Harry and Mari. You’d never even considered it possible since you’d always known Harry wasn’t interested in her, but knowing that they’d had a life outside of your knowledge, and that Mari hadn’t brought it up, it made you think that maybe Mari was a bit wiser than you’d figured about the summer you and Harry had spent so much time together and that maybe she’d not told you for a reason.

You felt like you were burning. But who were you to judge? You were mature, and you knew that any chance of you and Harry being together wasn’t possible when you lived such separate lives. You’d already tried and failed – failed so hard you’d felt you were dying for months after he left.

“Maybe you two could work out,” you suggested, “Have you ever thought that -?”

“No,” Harry cut you off, “No of course not.”

“But if there’s no chance for –”

“What?” Harry’s eyes were burning as he looked at you, “You think that just because there’s no chance for us that I’d just be interested in another friend? Part of the reason I’m not interested in Mari is because of you. She reminds me of you. They all do. Viv, Geoff, Luca, Mari – they’re all reflections and memories of you. Of us. I can’t just forget how you felt wrapped up in my arms or under me on the blankets by the lagoon at night. If I could I’d –”

The kitchen lights turned on rather suddenly and you and Harry startled, blinking rapidly to adjust to the light. Viv stood in her slip, staring back at you both with her hair falling down her shoulders and face free of makeup.

“It’s rather late,” she simply said, “I’m surprised you’re both not in bed. Plenty of time to catch up with all of us during the day, don’t you think?”

Instantly you nodded, “It is getting late,” you nodded. You looked to Harry briefly, “It’s good to see you again. I’m glad you’re here,” you said honestly before kissing Viv’s cheek and running up the stairs quietly to your room.

You left the balcony doors open, undressing rather quickly and sniffling to keep your tears at bay as you could hear Harry on the other side of the wall, beds moved right up against each other with only a wall separating the two of you just like old times. At one point summers ago that thin wall had been a curse, an obstacle keeping you and Harry apart when you wanted to be in the same bed. But now you clung to that wall like a lifeline, knowing that if it wasn’t there you might still be jumping back into his bed, throwing caution into the wind and setting yourself up for just another heartbreak.

-----

Part 2 HERE.

Thank you for the love and support! I love all of you so dearly it hurts me.

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fifth--business-blog · 5 years

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8 Budget Plan Friendly Trip Ideas for 2018

Updated: 11/8/2018 | November 8th, 2018

While many of us dream of traveling the world (or at least taking a few months off from work in pursuit of adventure), it’s not always feasible, even for those with the best of intentions. A lot of things can get in the way.

I frequently talk about long-term travel and round-the-world trips, but I know that realistically, not everyone can or wants to enjoy this style of travel. I don’t think traveling the world is hard, but I also know that what I do isn’t for everyone.

Some people just want to go on a cheap vacation for a few weeks. Not everyone has the time or luxury to take an extended trip.

So what do you do when you only have a short amount of time and a short amount of money?

What are some budget vacation ideas that aren’t about traveling the world?

Even if I won’t find you backpacking Cambodia for three months or walking the Camino de Santiago, there are many ways to get on the road and see the world without breaking the bank! Here are eight cheap travel ideas if you are cash-strapped and/or time-poor:

Cheap Vacation Idea 1: Be a Local Tourist

How often do you visit the tourist sites in your own city? Hardly ever, right? I know New Yorkers who have never seen the Statue of Liberty and Bostonians who have never walked the Freedom Trail. I once took a Dutch friend on a tour of Amsterdam because, despite growing up there, she had never seen the local attractions that lure millions of visitors to the city every year.

We’re all guilty of this. It took me five years to see the Jim Thompson House in Bangkok (even after living there), and I’ve still never been to Bunker Hill in Boston despite spending the first 24 years of my life there.

We always put it off until tomorrow, because when we live in a city, we think there is always a tomorrow.

We get so caught up in our daily lives we forget that we can have a cheap vacation in our own city. We don’t have to go anywhere!

If you’re short on time and money, there’s no better way to spend some free time than to wander your own city. No matter what its size, it has a number of wonders that you’ve never seen or even known about because you just don’t like! We’re busy leading our lives and following our routines. It’s normal but let’s look at your home with new eyes.

Be a traveler in your own town!

Important tips: When you become a local tourist, check out of your house and into a hotel, hostel, or guesthouse. It’s important to get out of your familiar environment because if you stay home, you’ll find something to do around the house and create excuses for why you can’t sightsee. Moving to a different location can help give you that feeling of adventure, excitement, and unfamiliarity.

Moreover, be sure to go to your local tourism office and get a city tourism pass. These cards allow you to see a wide range of local attractions for free or reduced prices and can be your way to see your local sites on a budget. They aren’t just for outsiders!

Cheap Vacation Idea 2: Travel Regionally

Travel brings to mind faraway and exotic destinations. It invokes images of all the places we’ve dreamed of and seen in movies. Because of that, few people look in their own backyard for adventure — as my Aussie friends always tell me before they jet off somewhere, “Mate, you’ve probably seen more of Oz than I have!” — but it offers just as many places to travel.

I could say the same thing as my Aussie friends. I grew up in Boston, and from there, I could visit New Hampshire, the woods of Maine, the bed-and-breakfasts of the Berkshires, or the farms of Vermont. New York was a four-hour car ride from home. How often did I do that? Not often enough!

Exploring your own region is an underrated and often overlooked aspect of travel. It gets the occasional lip service in magazines, but driving across the United States made me realize how much our own countries have to offer us and how often we overlook that for some foreign place.

There’s something special about being a stranger in your homeland and realizing you really don’t know much about it as you thought.

We think because we’re born in a place we understand it but every country has regional differences that make it unique and, unless we travel to see and experience them, we’ll never fully understand the place we call home.

Driving across my country (the U.S.) taught me a lot about it. It gave me a deep appreciation for it, the people, and the diversity within its borders. It broke down stereotypes and misconceptions I had about the different regions in the US. My time exploring my own backyard was just as important to my growth as any trip to a foreign country.

If you’re on a limited budget, can’t afford a flight or a trip to exotic lands, or just want to do something different, don’t forget that you can always travel your own country. It can be just as powerful as visiting another country.

Cheap Vacation Idea 3: Go to National Parks

The great outdoors present a great chance to go somewhere on the cheap. Camping, after all, costs very little money. Camping fees in national parks are as little as $15 USD per night in the United States, $15-40 CAD in Canada, $10-60 AUD in Australia, and $17-22 NZD in New Zealand. And in many places in Japan and Europe (especially Scandinavia), you can camp on public lands for free. Additionally, you go camping stocked with all your own supplies and accommodation (i.e., a tent), so you don’t have to worry about spending lots of extra money. Your food bill can be whatever you spend on groceries and nothing more.

You don’t need to love camping to spend time in the national parks, either. Personally, I hate camping. I’m not the camp-in-a-tent kind of guy; I need toilets, beds, and hot water. Luckily, many parks provide cabins. While hiking the Grand Canyon, I stayed at a national park lodge at the bottom. I had a room in a dormitory, but for a few nights, it was the cheap accommodation I needed.

There’s almost always a park nearby and spending a few days with nature is not only good for your wallet but also good for your soul.

Along these same lines, Camp in My Garden is a website that lets people camp in someone’s backyard (or garden). Got an RV that needs parking? Check out RV with Me, which finds cheap parking and overnight solutions for RV owners!

Cheap Vacation Idea 4: Book a Last-Minute Cruise (or Book Far in Advance)

Cruises are normally very expensive, affairs with a seven-day Caribbean cruise costing over $600–700 USD per person for a small interior room. And, if you’re traveling alone, you often have to pay the price of two people since not many cruise lines offer single traveler rooms!

But, if you’re the last passenger running onto that ship, you can find some sweet deals.

Cruise lines always offer incredible last-minute deals. No ship’s captain – or cruise company – wants to leave with half the cabins empty. If you wait until a few weeks before departure, you can find some really amazing deals as cruise lines scramble to find passengers. Plus, cruise operators always throw in some on-board amenities, free upgrades, and cash vouchers to sweeten the deal.

The website CruiseSheet often has cruises as low as $30 per day! (It’s the best cruise booking website in the world!)

Conversely, if you book over a year in advance, cruise lines also offer amazing low fares for early birds.

Cruises are the one form of travel for which I recommend visiting a travel agent if you’re part of a big group. They have wonderful working relationships with the operators and can score better packages than booking online.

After you book, keep an eye out on prices, because if they drop, you can often call your travel agent or the cruise company itself to get a partial refund or vouchers to use for dining and alcohol on the boat.

READ THIS —> Click here to read my guide to finding super discounted cruises (and how to save money once you are on board.)

Cheap Vacation Idea 5: Think Outside the Box

Forget Mexico and go to Guatemala. Skip Paris and head to Budapest. Forget Italy and see Greece (it’s really cheap!). Ditch Brazil and take on Bolivia instead. The list goes on and on. There are countless cheap alternatives and budget destinations around the world!

Travel counter to the prevailing trend.

Zig when everyone zags.

If people are going in the summer, you go in the spring or winter. Skip the popular destinations and head off the beaten path a bit.

Contrarian travel will save you a bundle of money. It’s like reverse commuting. While others heading into the city in the morning for work are stuck in traffic, you breeze the opposite way hassle free. The same is true for travel.

The more you are a contrarian in where – and when you go – the better off you’re wallet will be. Plus, you’ll enjoy destinations more because there will be fewer crowds. No one loves a crowd!

READ THIS –> Click here for 10 Destinations to Visit on a Budget to help give you ideas on where you to go!

Cheap Vacation Idea 6: Book a Last-Minute Tour

Just like cruises, tours are best booked last-minute. Tour companies need to fill the seats just like cruise companies, because once that trip departs, they still have the same costs. Last-minute tour bookings work the same way as cruise bookings.

Why are tours so cheap last-minute? Well, think about how people plan vacations. You get the time off work, you book your vacation, you buy your flight, and you go. Since people pre-book, prices are higher in advance because these companies understand booking patterns and then price accordingly. As departure time nears, companies know people aren’t likely to turn up and book on departure day, so they sweeten the price to increase bookings. So take the time off work, wait until the week before, see what’s cheap, and then go.

My favorite company, Intrepid Travel, often offers 15–30% discounts on last-minute tours.

Cheap Vacation Idea 7: Become a House Sitter

Accommodation can eat into the cost of a trip big-time. You might get a flight deal, but then accommodation — even if you can find it cheaply — might push the cost of your trip into unaffordable territory. A way around that is to stay somewhere for free. While I like Couchsurfing, it’s hard to do that for two weeks without annoying your host. A unique way to overcome this is to house-sit for someone while they are on vacation. You get free accommodation, a kitchen to cook in, and the chance to explore a destination in depth. It’s a pretty unique way to travel and one that I know a lot of world travelers take advantage of. You can even do this in your own region too, to cut down on transportation costs.

Cheap Vacation Idea 8: Grab a Cheap Flight

Nowadays, you don’t have to guess where the cheapest flight from your home would be. You can look up a whole list of flights (from cheapest to increasingly more expensive) using a site like Momondo or Google Flights. With those sites, you can type in “(the closest airport to you)” for your departure city and “everywhere” for your destination. Then a list of the cheapest flights appears in front of your very eyes, so you can choose where to go within your budget. This is how I decide where to go when I don’t have a specific place in mind. It’s a great tool!

Here are some other great airline booking sites where you can find deals:

Not everyone can jump overseas at the drop of a hat or spend six months backpacking around Europe or Asia. A fancy vacation to Mexico may be out of your reach. But while you might not have a lot of time or money, luckily there’s more than one way to see the world. These cheap vacation ideas may be exactly what you’re looking for!

Travel is simply the art of going somewhere new and different and exploring everything the place has to offer. It doesn’t matter if you have two days, two weeks, or two months. Use these cheap vacation ideas and go explore – on a budget!

Want more? Read these articles to get more specific destination ideas for where to have a budget vacation:

Book Your Trip: Logistical Tips and Tricks

Book Your Flight Find a cheap flight by using Skyscanner or Momondo. They are my two favorite search engines because they search websites and airlines around the globe so you always know no stone is left unturned.

Book Your Accommodation To find the best budget accommodation, use Booking.com as they consistently return the cheapest rates for guesthouses and cheap hotels. I use them all the time. You can book your hostel – if you want that instead – with Hostelworld as they have the most comprehensive inventory.

Don’t Forget Travel Insurance Travel insurance will protect you against illness, injury, theft, and cancellations. It’s comprehensive protection in case anything goes wrong. I never go on a trip without it as I’ve had to use it many times in the past. I’ve been using World Nomads for ten years. My favorite companies that offer the best service and value are:

Looking for the best companies to save money with? Check out my resource page for the best companies to use when you travel! I list all the ones I use to save money when I travel – and I think will help you too!

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overwatch-does-stuff · 6 years

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Overwatch Discusses Their Early Life

(Remember what I said about the selection screen update? Me neither. This will be in current selection screen order.)

Offense: Doomfist's early memories are mostly involve his parents; he grew up wealthy and in a large estate. He remembers learning how to fight with his father, training in the traditional martial arts of his homeland; and his mother, who instilled him with dignity and pride, as the son of a wealthy CEO. He had to betray his parents when he became the next Doomfist; he could not be limited by sentimental values. Still, he allows no one to know how much he misses them. Genji remembers Hanzo, first and foremost. His big brother was his idol. They were inseparable. They played together, learned together, and occasionally fought, but they always made up afterwards. Oh, how the times were simple then. McCree remembers a small homestead deep in the southwest of Arizona. He remembers a family, vaguely. His ma and pa are only blurry faces now, overshadowed by the flicker of flames. He was so small when the Omnics started pouring out of Mexico, overrunning the border within weeks. What happened after is blurrier still. Pharah's memories are of Overwatch. She remembers them all: Jack, Gabe, Reinhardt, Torbjorn, Mercy, and of course, her mother. They always smiled when she came into the room. She likes to think that they were always like that; smiling and happy, untouchable by the trauma of war. Pharah knows better now, having become a warrior herself. Reaper remembers nothing. Death does not have a place where it came from. However, in between blinks, he can see it clearly. A small home in the city, always smelling of cinnamon, and an old woman, kind, telling stories of the spirits that looked over this world. In a blink, it is gone. He remembers one thing clearly, however: a barn owl means death. He touches his mask. Death walks among you. Soldier 76 remembers the farm where he was born and raised. He remembers playing with his cousins in the fields, raking hay in the barn, caring for the animals that his family raised and weeding the garden when his mom asked him to. It was idyllic, but boring, at the time. He remembers wishing for something more. That's why he enlisted when the Crisis broke out. The rest, as they say, is history. Sombra knows nothing of a family; only of bouncing in and out of foster homes. Sometimes, if she was lucky and if she played her cards right, a family might keep her for more than a couple months. But no matter how much they said they liked her, they always handed her off sometime thereafter. She learned a lesson early on: trust no one, for they never really care. Tracer was born to a wealthy family in London. Her mother and father were both former RAF pilots that met and fell in love during active duty. She remembers traveling the world for her father's business trips, seeing many places that instilled her with a sense of wonder and curiosity. She also remembers learning how to pilot; her mother helping her learn the controls, and then finally allowing her to fly for the first time. She'll never forget that moment. Defense: If Bastion could speak, it would tell you of the peacefulness and beauty of the forest that it awoke in, and a small, yellow bird that built a nest on its shoulder. It would not tell you, however, of the sound of explosions, bullets whistling through the air, some finding their targets deep within metal or flesh; of fire and blood staining what was once grass beneath its feet. Hanzo remembers his father vaguely. The man was always busy with business somewhere. When he was home, however, he was soft and kind. Hanzo then remembers when Genji was born. His father became much harder on him. Responsibility was thrust upon him. He did not want it. He has never quite forgiven Genji for that. Junkrat knows very little about his past- it never seemed very important to him in the long run, and forgetting what was before made it easier to accept what he had now. All he remembers consciously is the big blow up, flashing across the sky in full glory, that irradiated the wasteland. That giant explosion was beautiful, extraordinary. It makes him sad that he'll never see an explosion of that caliber again. Mei was born and raised in China. Both her parents worked for the government, one a news reporter and the other a specialist in utilities. She grew up hearing news of increasing energy demands and failing coal plants. She also remembers her first visit to Beijing, for her parents' jobs. The city was choked with smoke and pollution, unlike anything she had ever seen before. Through all this, she was inspired to work for the bettering of the environment. Torbjorn remembers growing up in a middle-class family in Sweden. He loved designing things from a young age: from marshmallow cannons to footstools that would unfold for you when sent down (for his mother, who passed on her dwarfism to him,) their house was always alive with his inventions. He did not like school very much, however, for his classmates always harassed him for his height and his ideas. Home was where his heart was. Widowmaker remembers very little of Amelie, and what she does know is very impersonal. She grew up in Chateau Guillard, her ancestral home. She had a mother and a father. She liked to dance. In dreams, she remembers details; dancing in the garden, sunlight streaming down her face. The sound of clapping as she finished the routine. Smiles from two people that are otherwise shadows. After dreams like this, Amelie Widowmaker must report to reconditioning. Tank: D.va was born in Seoul, the capital of what was once South Korea. She remembers glancing out her window to see the big gray walls that protected the city from the Omnic that came from the sea. She remembers the drills that were held every month; evacuation orders, stay calm and orderly, proceed to the shelters. She played videogames to get her mind off of what could happen. The digital world was her escape, a chance to fight back against the monsters. When MEKA showed her she could do the same in real life, she jumped at the chance. Orisa remembers when she first woke up. Her optics onlined to first see her creator, Efi, and the first words that she heard were that of her name. She also remembers seeing her city, Numbani, for the first time. Everything was silver or gold, and the skyline sparkled just for her, or so it seemed. Immediately she knew her purpose was to protect it. She is still in her childhood, technically, only being one month old, but she is eager to grow beyond that stage. Reinhardt remembers being the oddball. He never quite fit in with his peers with his larger-than-life personality and his penchant for the pretend. He remembers playing Dungeons and Dragons with his family on the weekends for hours on end. In school, even though his grades were not the best, he was the star of the drama club and always tried too hard in PE. And from the very beginning, Reinhardt knew that he was destined for something more than a normal life. He wasn't wrong. Roadhog doesn't remember much at all. Whether it's the radiation, or perhaps the drugs he takes for it, he doesn't know. What he does remember are the Omnics. He lived right next to the Omnium when the Crisis started. He barely remembers someone distracting the robots, allowing him to escape into the wilds of the outback. He's been on his own ever since. Sometimes it helps not to try and remember. Winston could never forget Dr. Winston, the scientist of his namesake that practically raised him. When the Dr. showed him the Earth for the first time was a particularly impressionable moment. However, things on the Horizon Lunar Colony weren't all so wonderful. Vaguely, he remembers the tests where they would electrocute him when he got the answer wrong, or the painful shots that made him so nauseated afterwards that he couldn't eat for several days. He was lucky to have Dr. Winston, who helped regulate the tests on him. The other apes were not so lucky. Zarya does not remember the Omnic crisis; she was only a couple months old when the Omnics poured out of the Siberian Omnium. What she does remember is the aftermath. Her village was devastated, and from a young age she worked repair it. This required a lot of heavy lifting, and even though the adults told her she couldn't help, she did anyway. Nearly every building in her village now has been rebuilt by her hands. Support: Ana's parents were always in and out of the house. Both of them were soldiers in the Egyptian military and were in the reserve. Her father was a war hero in the army and her mother was in the air force. She grew up target shooting and learning self defense martial arts, the former being an activity she enjoyed immensely. Her parents encouraged her to join the military when she was of age. Looking back, she wishes that she had more of a choice in the matter. Brigitte remembers entering her papa'a workshop for the first time. All the machinery looked so amazing, and she was pointing to everything and asking how it all worked. Her and papa spent several hours in there, nearly missing dinner. She remembers her first welding creations; nothing could have looked uglier, but her mamma still hung it up on the wall anyway. And, of course, she remembers making jetpack cat. Poor kitty. Lucio remembers the close-knit community of the favela he grew up in. No one had much, so everything was shared. One person had an old MP3, and they would invite everyone that could come to listen to the music that was downloaded on it. He remembers those evenings quite fondly. Things only got better when he finally earned enough money to buy a music player of his own. With the basic programs on it, he started making his own music and sharing it with his family and friends. Music helped distract them from their harsh reality, if only for a little while. No one asks about Mercy's early life, not that there's much to share. Both of her parents died in the Crisis.. She was in and out of foster homes and she threw herself into schoolwork to take her mind of things. She excelled in her classes, skipping several grades and graduating from college at younger than she should have been. One of the only highlights of her youth was visiting the Swiss Overwatch base, where she met Torbjorn and they stayed fast friends. Moira does not like to think about her childhood. Her parents were absent and the other kids in her neighborhood were afraid of her. She loved to take apart things to learn how they worked, whether that be the vacuum cleaner or the neighbor's pet frog. Her destructive tendencies aggravated most adults to the point of giving up on her, and she struggled through grade school. She learned to be self-reliant. As a result, she will do anything to satisfy her curiosity. She looks upon this as a triumph, not a mistake. Symmetra remembers what her life used to be like before Vishkar gave her a better life. It was horrible. She was always hungry and dirty, and her bed was raggedy and itchy and uncomfortable to sleep on. She does not remember a mother or a father, only distant faces screaming. Vishkar told her that her parents did not deserve her, and for the most part, she agrees. The rest of her childhood was spent at Vishkar facilities, where she saw true order and harmony for the first time, and she was at peace. Zenyatta is happy to tell you about his early life if you ask, as most people are curious about where Omnics come from. He was made in an Omnium near Numbani, one of the few still allowed to operate after the Crisis. In the Omnium there is a school set up for the newly formed, run by both humans and Omnics, and he spent several years there before he left to gain his own experience in the world. From early on he sought to define what living was about, and he journeyed his way through Asia before meeting up with other Omnics that shared his same ideas. They would become the Shambali.

#overwatch #overwatch headcanons #overwatch heroes

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