#if this boy could serve the thin man breakfast in bed it would consist of soggy cereal/ burnt toast/ and glass of chocolate milk

[grim-faux]

2 _ 40 _ The Door That was Shut

First

 Nothing happened for a long time. It was Mono and the Thin Man, hiding from the world. Unless Mono left the dwelling to check the corridors and other places, and went beyond the broken space in the collapsed section of hall.

 Not much could be gathered from the other dwellings. The rooms didn’t have a lot to offer that was interesting, and the vacant residencies endured terrible damage from relentless storms. Trauma in the walls and upper levels redirected the excess of gushing runoff, all of which drilled through hidden cuvees throughout the building. Mono was made aware of this, upon trying to use a vertical climb in a rotted wall, but couldn’t go higher than five planks due to the cascade of water. He wanted to stay dry for some while since he was out of the rain, and trying to curl up in a rest pile was hard when his coat hung on his body like a glove.

 The bulk of his exploration focused on figuring which areas on the reachable (and dry) floors had foods. Most of the dwellings he could get into, either with a teleport leap or using a box or whatever else sat available in the corridor to reach a latch. No Viewers clambered around the rooms, and even better, no televisions.

 Unfortunately, not much good foods either.

 He ate as much as he could at every chance, then took something back for the Thin Man. Of course, the tall thin man never wanted whatever Mono hauled in (he was too picky), but Mono showed him that he was never forgotten.

 As for the Thin Man, he was better. Mono couldn’t figure if the tall thin man was actually hurt, nothing the man in the hat did ever made sense. He did without reason.

 The box of food thing Mono hauled through the main door, the way he always did on his returns. The door itself was tricky and never cooperated, he couldn’t get it shut enough to make him at ease. However! He needed to check on the Thin Man, but he also needed to put the food box away. He dragged the hefty container through the short corridor and into the kitchen place, and stuck it into an open bottom draw. With the other food things he stashed for the man in the hat. Mono never touched them.

 The static prickled up the corridor, preceding the actual appearance of the tall thin man. As the imposing silhouette made his usual lap outside the kitchen, the distressed lights of the room shimmered.

 Mono adjusted the paper bag on his head and scrambled after the disjointed shadow. He stayed close on the Thin Man’s heels, watching the back of his legs. In case he stopped or something. And for some time he followed the Thin Man from-and-into-and-through each of the rooms of the upper floor.

 The Thin Man didn’t show that he searched for anything or something in particular. It was like lost, but the Thin Man couldn’t be lost because Mono was there. At times the tall figure stopped to regard the broken bare ribs of a wall, and touch his chin or his hat. The way Mono did when he puzzled through tricky puzzler tricks and traps. So much quiet think.

 “Hey?” Mono rasped. Did he lose Mono?

 He did notice Mono was there. Sometimes the man in the hat heard his airy calls and turned to him, tilting his head. Mono wanted to tug on his slacks or put his arms up, but he was firstly cautious. He wanted the Thin Man to be okay, but the tall thin man was having thoughts, and many of thoughts at that. The man in the hat didn’t make a sound at Mono, aside from the ever present crackling currents. Without a speek, he would shake his head or touch his hat, and turn to walk away. But Mono would chase.

 Mono did inspect the rooms over himself, while the Thin Man stood watching something or was be distracted by a crack in the floor. It did sometimes make him uneasy, because the Thin Man would typically do the big speek. This was different. The Thin Man wasn’t hurt or broken, he was okay. Something was wrong. Was his head different? The Thin Man knows everything.

 For some time, Mono hid and did his own quiet watch. He squeezed into the space beneath a collapsed cabinet box, and watched the Thin Man come and go from the room. He still wanted to be near the Thin Man, in case he lost Mono and didn’t know where he was. The unknown and mystifying antics of the Thin Man made him want to hide more, and let the Thin Man do his search.

 While in the kitchen, hidden in the corner behind the heap of dismantled cabinets, he heard the Thin Man do his speek.

 “Ï̸̻̼ ̸̬͚̑̾N̷̈ͅê̵͓̩v̶̱̖̓͠e̷͍͔͒r̶̯̾ ̶̰̮̈̚B̸͇̉̋e̶͙̓͝l̵̳̬̾̊i̶̟̱̚͝e̵͍̩̿͑v̵̤̮͑͝ȅ̴͈͕̓d̸̡́ ̶̝͈Ṱ̴͉̌̐h̵̙͂ĭ̵̬͙̓s̴͉͌͝ ̷̰͊̓W̴̫͝o̶̫̊͒u̵͉̚l̷͉̦̓̃d̵͚͑ ̴̲̈̈́B̶̟̽e̵͖̋͠ ̸̢̜̒A̵̰͋ ̷͚̭̕S̷̹̈́i̴̧̩̇m̴͔̰̐p̴̥̀ͅl̶̤̂e̴͉̲͂ ̵̨̺̀͘T̶̗͖͌̐á̶̼̭̿s̸͖̠͊k̶͎̖͂.̸͙̥̉̋ ̶̠͈͂́Ḧ̶̯͙o̴̪͆͜w̸̙̥̃̊ë̶̡̝́v̴͙͋ḛ̶̠̿ŗ̷̊͌!̶͔̚ ̶̳̐͝T̶̻̓h̵͉̤̃̓e̵̠̪̍y̴̫ͅ ̷̤̩̑M̵̯͇̿̋u̷̦͌s̷̛͙t̵̨̮̊ ̴̬̒̚H̸̹̓͜͠ả̸̖̺v̶̫̂̍e̴͔͓͌͒ ̴̩̄̿K̸̟̓̈͜n̵̩̐o̸̥͑w̶̖̠̽̑n̵̳̊ ̶̫͒Š̷̪̭O̵̭͎M̷̧̑É̸̥͇͛T̵̰̫̆H̴͈̹̑͠Í̷͕N̵͚̅G̶͍̐̇!̵͕̝̈́”

 The biz-ee gave the Thin Man such trouble. Going and doing, then come back. At least he could trust Mono to do his job, and that was one thing the Thin Man did not have a fret about.

 Fret. Mono liked that speek. Simple and to the point.

 He used a chunk of plaster to carve off the surface color of the wood, and make a picture speek. He did the doorway with the chair, some cages for children, and a bird. He made the marks good and deep, so they wouldn’t fade for a while. Mono was here, too. Friend bear came to visit too.

 Did She remember Mono? Would She sit somewhere for a span of a while for the rest, and remember that She and Mono traveled, and did pack? It didn’t seem like She could miss him, if She wanted him gone. Mono had confusing and weird thoughts about his old pack, though. The ones that shared speek. Sometimes, he only remembered he hated them for being gone. Yet, he would miss them too.

 After drawing up a strange story speek, Mono crawled out from behind the cabinet stack and climbed onto the countertop. He managed to haul out a cup from the upper cupboard, and get the faucet turned to start the water in the sink.

 However, when he tried to drop off the counter with a full cup, he misjudged the weight in his arms and all that coming down onto his feet. By quick reflex alone, he managed to save most of the liquid from spilling all over him. At the expense of his butt. He had to collect himself quickly and hurry over to the murky space beneath the broken cabinets, since he left the water trickling.

 It took some time, but the sink – with no good drain – flooded over, and water gushed down the bent cabinet doors.

 Mono pushed the bag up and sipped at his cup. For a time, he watched the liquid stretch and gather dust all across the floorboards, and carry the debris of boats along its slick surface. He wondered if the water would be trapped in the kitchen, since there seemed to be spaces in the floor where the liquid seeped into. It might flood the lower level, but not completely. Only certain places would get flooded entirely by rain or faucets, but not usually rooms with broken floors.

 Once his cup was empty, he went to the cabinet and did his best to collect water trickling down the sides. He didn’t get much, but he wasn’t that thirsty.

 He found the Thin Man in the room with the bookshelf, though the man in the hat was not looking at the books, nor near the bookshelf at all. The bent figure slouched against the far wall, legs bent up and the long-long arms draped over his peaked knees. His hat did not raise when Mono approached.

 Mono set the cup down between the Thin Man’s shoes, then, stretched up to tug at one of the fingers dangling. “Psst. Hey.” The Thin Man flicked his hand, but Mono didn’t think he was awake. “Hoi.” The hands drew up and out of reach, the fingers wove together.

 “N̷͇̕o̸̰̎t̸̗̔ ̷̹́n̷̗̂o̸͎̾w̸̨͗,̶̭̈ ̶̩̾b̵̺̌ȯ̷͍y̸̜̏,̷͇̓” the dusty voice croaked. If not for the strange distortion, it might not have buffeted against the vacant walls. “Perhaps later.”

 Mono fixed an obnoxious crease in his paper bag. It was him. He was important. “Aye’mm Mono,” he huffed. “Go see f’look. N’you keep t’safe.” He took a breath and patted the Thin Man’s shin. “Soon f’r back. Not long.” The Thin Man didn’t do anything else or speek. Mono left the cup with him and squeezed out of the jammed door.

 The door to the dwelling had not been shut all the way since Mono came back through the other time, thus, he had no issue squirming out the narrow space. He did make certain the panel and frame shut together as much as possible, before leaving the dwelling.

 Nothing was out of place since his previous scout. All the debris and dust runes on the floor panels rested undisturbed, aside from his own footprints crisscrossing. He started with the undamaged corridor, dashing to the one end and checking the rooms left open after his initial search. Nothing stood out to take stock of, except the intensity of the storm striking at the boarded windows. With his patrol satisfied, he charged off to the other side of the corridor, and crawled beneath the debris to reach the lopsided section of the broken hall. Since this floor appeared altogether and uninteresting, he went ahead and hopped down the stairway to the lower stories.

 The levels of the building lay passive, aside from the usual creaking and threats from the walls. None of the cheery tunes or sporadic buzz from the televisions. He did break out the decayed bottom of a door, and found in the biggest room of the residence, a shattered out but long dead television.

 While everything was calm, he went over to the yawning screen and huddled down in his coat. For some reason, the television reminded him of things from before Her. A broken television. The fire. The rushing water. His packmates, and their cries. Noisy children die.

 He tilted his head, the paper bag leaned against his ear. The Forest. Everything was so confusing, the first nights. The light peered through the overcast clouds and searched through the thick canopy, but by then barely any of the anemic sheets of radiance touched the forest floor. Altogether, the once fierce blaze forgot  what it sought, despite how hard it searched. Even when he traveled with his pack, no one saw much light. Too much light invited death, they found safety in the murk and spots of shadows. No one could see very well, but that was better than being seen.

 The memories were not kind when they came back. He did forget. Left his pack. Left all of them behind and forgot them. But She reminded him. He watched Her get taken. He watched and did nothing.

 Mono crept over to the television and carefully, hefted himself over the jagged spikes of glass and into the hollowed box. He curled up in the bity pieces of wires and plastic teeth, kicking some of the mounds aside to form a more tolerable nest.

 Everything was placid and unmoved. No tinges of static, no clicking of steps.

 He didn’t rest or do half sleep. He needed the alone and quiet time. That’s what the Thin Man needed. Mono wasn’t doing a good job, he was loafing around. This isn’t how biz-ee is done. He didn’t care. For a time, he needed stop.

 No sleep happens. None at all. He wanted to think some things over, compare good thoughts to the bad. Some planning happened, since he was not finding a lot of food on this floor, despite the search he put in already. More scouting and look would happen, but he needed to think beyond that. If there was not much food for himself and the Thin Man, no matter how the Thin Man always said he didn’t need food, then something different had to be done. Eventually, the Thin Man would see Mono was doing everything he could, even if it wasn’t pack. It still meant pack to Mono.

 A mysterious sum of time has gone away, when Mono crawled out of the television. No sleep happened. But he does yawn and stretched some once he was safely extracted. His joints popped and his shoulders tingled, like with static.

 He does a scout through the dwellings, searching rooms and seeking the places for food. It’s not a very interesting scout, but uneventful is good. The smell does put him on edge, the usual reek has tinges of other decay that he knows is not good. In one bathroom – he dropped into from a hole in the wall – he found a creature or some adult, but with a large axe buried into its backside. A sizable and dreadful tool, much too large for Mono to wield himself.

 For a moment he sat on the toilet lid, watching the dead thing. Thankfully, it’s not fresh. Both doors to the bathroom stayed shut, but that doesn’t mean much. Aside from him not having a good way out. Check that, no way out but for the gaping hole in the floor, where a tub or something should be. He climbed down there, cautious in case the whole area beneath had nothing but a perilous drop into a black hungry abyss.

 No such peril claimed him. The lower floor/ceiling sloped down at a bland incline, and he’s able to find a door that leads out into a corridor. He’s a little lost, but he would find the stairway and just go up.

 The scout and search overall didn’t amount to much. If not for taking in that nothing was around, not even the televisions - so safe. But no monsters or Viewers - no food.

 Mono did startle some beetles out of hiding, while poking at empty packages crammed into the back of a pantry closet. They were something to chew on but not enough by a margin, and kind of dry. The beetles reminded him to be cautious, since Viewers were not here, then other dangers had come to lurk.

 It was almost a relief to find the creak stairwell, and drag himself back to the upper floors. He found the familiar landing, the collapsed corridor, all a sight for weary eyes. If he had the vigor, he would’ve tried a leap through the door panel. However, he had run too far and didn’t find anything worth hauling back. The Thin Man didn’t need to know about the beetles.

 Once he secured the door, shut proper this time, he did another search of the rooms. First, he went to the kitchen, and traipsed through the shallow waters gathered. He poked around at the cabinet for a while, prying out a few packages he was iffy on trying. The food was sealed up and he thought it should be good, but it was always a risk. As always, he jumped at every fluttery shift in the shadows within the dank cupboards he needled at.

 The Sinnapede had been such a random escape. If he was not great at teleporting, it might have had him.

 The Thin Man was still in the book room. Mono guessed this was his room. He usually poured so much time into the mark speek, he was befuddled by the Thin Man’s quiet and do nothing.

 This time he didn’t haul in a package of food – in part, he was ashamed he hadn’t brought anything new. It didn’t appear that the man in the hat moved at all, in however long Mono was gone. Probably didn’t do search. That was not good.

 Mono didn’t bother the Thin Man about it. Later. There was no good reason for not check the rooms. The Thin Man insisted it was Mono's job, but Mono couldn't be everywhere, and do all the everything else. It was too big, even for someone as mighty as him.

 When he reached the Thin Man’s shoes, he curled his coat around himself and lay on his ankle. The cutout eye holes watched the silent statue. It was so quiet, if not for the steady hum in the air Mono could almost believe… something big happened while he was gone. He didn’t know what. The Thin Man wasn’t hurt, he was grumpy. He expected the tall thin man to break the silence, say something, or shift. Was sleep. That annoyed Mono, but he couldn’t be here and do scout, and also seek out there. It wouldn’t work.

 Biz-ee. The Thin Man was biz-ee, always. And Mono wouldn’t understand. Or didn’t understand. He wanted to do better for the man in the hat, but it was hard. The man in the hat didn’t think Mono did anything but wrong, and hurt. But the Thin Man knew everything.

 Mono picked himself up and on feathery steps, slipped out of the room. He took the stairs to the lower floor, his space, and gave the rooms an intense go through. Even the bathroom.

 The water from the upper floor found its way down the walls, he guessed. This wasn’t the rain. Water rushed down the blotchy plaster and flooded a portion of the corridor, and the bathroom. Which was fine by Mono, it covered some of the stink from the Sinnapede.

 From there, he returned to the room with the chest and the windowsill. He didn’t want to rest on the floor. But he liked the windowsill anyway, since it was the way out.

 He tucked himself into the furthest corner of the window and lay, with his fingers pressed up under the paper mask. He chewed at a few new splinters while they still stung and worked on a painful hangnail. That is, until his work slowed. He was only a partial way asleep, still somewhat aware of the room and the sounds.

 The rain tapped against the glass, pricking at his senses. Like static. He liked that. Some few and littles things did give him comfort, and he savored those sensations. Bits and pieces that reminded him of rare small places in his memories, where he had sensations other than flee and hide. They gave him warmth for to move further, until he could find a new sheltered pocket of tenderness, to nestle deep-down into and hold tight. Until that smoldering heat fluttered away, like everything else. Let him fall into a dark place with no escape. A bleak and featureless void, bare of thoughts and sensations. 

 He had to be swift and never stop for long. The same applied to good thoughts and rest. Shelter was an illusion. The only certainty was survival, and do that by being the most clever and uncatchable. No other way existed, he learned that well. Survival only granted so many close-calls, and mistakes were always fatal.

 A low quiver slipped out of Mono, and he adjusted his knotted situation in the sill corner. All this think reminded him of Her and the stinging hurt left behind, after how far they went together. He wanted to stop it. Them and Together, it was possible. They could… no, they would!

 “Go there. Make to end.”

 When he made the statement, she glared at him. In much of her usual way, when he suggested something crazy. Where to get food. Place for shelter. How to be warm. Their share speek wasn’t the greatest, but it came along. It was always better when they had paper and colors to work with, convey the speek and fill in blanks.

 He thought, was same. Then, She wanted same as Him. The Tower made the bad happenings and monsters, and he knew that for certain, because it called to Him. To Mono. And when She kept following, Mono thought, she agreed. She wanted to hurt the Tower too. Maybe it called to Her, not the way it called him, but it wanted Her to listen all the same. They would make it hurt, make the Tower stop and go away. To see what happened. To see if anything changed out in the world, if the dangers became less, if the rain would stop. He wanted to see if something different started, maybe a better thing would happen, or they would see something out there become something else. If the Tower was hurt and tricked, the sprawling world around them would only get better. This he felt with an unwavering intensity. Somehow, he knew these things.

 They never reached the Tower. Not in together. Not hand in hand. But he did find Her. He refused to stop and run away! They could have run out of there, he could have shown Her how to make the Transmission listen. None of that happened. She tore out of his life and left without giving a reason. After everything they did as Together. Disappeared. Ran away. Went where he couldn’t follow. Without giving him a Why?

 Somewhere out there, and somehow, he would find Her. He would ask his questions, and get… something. He would catch Her. That he would do.

 The dream haunts come for him, but Mono won’t let them take hold. Breaking from half sleep episodically, he searched the sounds and tinges of gloom for anything that could be out of place. He felt assured the surrounding rooms went undisturbed; no working televisions sat in an obscure corner to attract a random Viewer. The comfort that he will not be surprised does not soothe him, and has the opposite affect. Mono is more high-strung in the absence of a regarded threat, because he cannot plan to escape if he doesn’t know what he might be fleeing from.

 Once he becomes exhausted by the tug-o-war between rest and vague awareness, he settled to sit back from the windowpane and watch the swollen globs smack the dingy glass. Beyond the mottled surface, the vibrant contours of cloud cover swell and roll. The bright hours. In the building across the street, some of the windows  glimmer with a diffused blaze. Then and now, a bedraggled heap waddled behind the barred windows; some creature or shape that is physically present, and not the lamps within cowering against the dull rumble of the storm. He hoped the sky didn’t start roaring and flashing – not that hoping did any good, but it was some happening to ponder over when he did the scout for more foods. A whole prospect he was dreading.

 So intently did he watch beyond the muggy glass, he missed entirely the flutter of the tall-tall silhouette appearing in the room. The radiant light cringed to the abrupt disturbance, but shortly resumed its soft glean. On the drowsy side, Mono snapped his head up and around. He briefly glimpsed back and offered a short smile, then turned back to the glass.

 The reflection tracing the surface didn’t reveal so much of the Thin Man as he clipped closer, despite the pitiful gleam. The window was much too low for the tall thin man to look out comfortably, which is what he seemed intent on. The tall thin man knelt to his knee and folded his arms upon the cracked sill.

 When nothing was said or done for several moments, Mono took the risk and scooched closer to the Thin Man’s arm. He leaned on the stiff fabric and together, they watched the rain form swollen globs across the window surface. The Thin Man chewed on one of his smoke sticks, and fogged up the glass nicely. The haze stayed for some while, plenty of time to do some speek. But Mono didn’t feel much like doing anything, not when the Thin Man came to do company with him. This was better. This was different. He wasn’t certain what to do, but decided it wouldn’t go wrong if he just did what he always did.

 “Would you not like a place all to yourself?” The sudden speek jarred Mono, and his eyes snapped open. “Somewhere that was for you. No one else could have it or take it away. Would you like that?”

 The way the Thin Man said all that was strange. Not that Mono didn’t understand, he could gather enough to make sense what he made speek about. The confusing part was… place, and for. Did the Thin Man mean, for him? Or was speek to self?

 “Hmm?”

 The Thin Man shifted on the sill, and used his free hand to rub at his brow. “Where no one and nothing would find you,” the static crackled. “A place that is for you, and only you could stay there.”

 That still made no sense. A place, and alone. Where no one could find him? It sounded like not a good thing. “Aam place,” he uttered, instead. A thick swell of smoke curled against the inner plane of glass, while some of the vapor escaped through the cracked upper portion.

 “Out there is that somewhere, which holds nothing you will ever need to fear,” the Thin Man muttered. “A secret shelter for you alone, which is protected. A place no being and no person will ever find. No one will bother, nor hurt you, ever again. Would that be nice?”

 No place was safe.

 Mono gaped at the Thin Man, dubious and not amused by this lie. However, it would be fine if the Thin Man was there. That would be good.

 “There y’be? Not wit’out.” He pressed his chin into the fabric of the jacket sleeve, uncaring that his paper bag slipped right off his head. Unwavering, he stared up at the miles away gaze of the Thin Man, while the smoke stick glowed against the long fingers. It is quiet for many minutes.

 “I suppose. For a time, I will be there.”

 Mono swallowed and dipped his head down. Not without the Thin Man. Never without. Him was his. And Mono had to make up for so much.

 “Not. T’always you be.” He pressed his face against the warm suit sleeve and took a mostly sturdy breath. “And keep. T'speek. Has n’keep.”

 The Thin Man adjusted his lean, and Mono tucked into his own coat more. Refusing to raise his eyes to the Thin Man. “I do not recall promising you anything.”

 That was true. Mono couldn’t keep the Thin Man. Not forever. He had to find the beyond of the city, somewhere out there where the wilting skyrises did not pierce the thick boiling clouds. As for the Thin Man, he had his games to play, and be the biz-ee. The Thin Man had to be everywhere, and yet nowhere, all at the same time. Mono was only a small part of the Thin Man’s work. It was impossible to do everything all by ones own lonesome self, but Mono didn’t do enough.

 Mono crawled over the looped arms and curled up by the hand draped over the crook of the Thin Man’s arm. “Aye’m important,” he hissed. He tugged the tail end of his coat in and drew his knees up to his chin.

 The static vibrated with the smoky sigh. “Yes. You are very important.”

 Very important. Mono suppressed his hiccup and chewed on his fingers, searching for a last rogue splinter. He chased the Thin Man. That was how it was. He was so good at it. For that reason, the Thin Man needed Mono to stay and make sure the place was safe, and no dangers could surprise them. It was Mono’s job, because he was brave and so mighty. Even the Tower was frightened of him. That was what the Thin Man told him. Mono killed buildings. He could deal with a stupid Tower.

 If only She knew. If She knew, it would have made no difference. She would see he was still danger. She would have hated him all the more.

 “I will show you where. It shall be yours.”

 Mono focused on one of the buttons against the Thin Man’s jacket. “Mm’chase.” He whined in his throat when a hand cloaked his coiled body, and patted him.

 “That’s my boy.” The Thin Man rose from his stooped posture and shimmered. With a muffled fizz-pop, the imposing silhouette faded entirely from the shrouded touch of the room.

 If he wanted to catch the Thin Man, then Mono should chase now. No later or dawdling about it. He didn’t feel much of do anything right here and so suddenly; looking after the dwelling took so much out of him, and it was his turn for rest. For many minutes, he would still have the Thin Man.

 It was the world to him, whenever he came from search and someone was there. That was important. And company. Regardless, Mono had to remember this wasn’t meant to be always. It was funny for the Thin Man, but nothing made the Thin Man happy. Nothing really meant anything to the man in the hat. Mono knew better, but he wanted...something else. They were going somewhere, and the Thin Man would show him where to stop. Then, Mono would have no one. That was how this was meant to work. Mono thought… no, nothing ever changed. He learned.

 He rolled over, and watched the patterns on the glass squirm downward, meshing and reshaping. He had so much to think about, a great scheme to plan for. It would be okay, and that is all it would be. The Thin Man would be all right, too, and Mono… Mono would find his way. Wherever he could find shelter, whenever he got the chance for stop and rest - all that would be for later, when he knew more about what the Thin Man's quiet think. This place. It wasn’t real, no doubt in his head. The Thin Man knew everything, and as such, knew Mono would have that puzzle figured out. Mono could play this game, and the Thin Man would go and be elsewhere.

 The Thin Man was looking for something, and it was not Mono.

Next

#little nightmares #little nightmares au #mono #the thin man #thin dad #little nightmares fanfic #little nightmares fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #if this boy could serve the thin man breakfast in bed it would consist of soggy cereal/ burnt toast/ and glass of chocolate milk #mono just trying so hard and has no idea what to do to fix the tall tower man #try adjusting his tv antenna....

[ultraglittercat]

Drabble 148

Hornet's Nest

There was a hornet's nest in the orchard. Some of the bigger boys had tried throwing rocks at it to knock it down, but they were unsuccessful. 9 yr old Varian had drawn up plans for a spray gun to coat the nest in chemicals, but his father wouldn't let him actually build it. Quirin said the nest was best left to the beekeeper Paul to destroy, and talked with the man during the afternoon.  Paul agreed to smoke the nest out at night, when the hornets were least active. Varian was a little disappointed- this meant he couldn't watch- but Quirin was adamant about Varian staying safe. Paul had special clothing like the bee hat he always wore and had worked with stinging insects for years, while Varian was still just a kid and prone to leaping into situations he should avoid.

Varian spent the evening after dinner drawing sketches of the hornets and their nest, wondering when adults would take him seriously. His chemicals could be just as effective at killing insects as the smoke would be! Quirin did let him spray insecticide on the pumpkins when they were growing, so he knew he'd been successful before. But apparently pumpkins were considered far safer than hornet's nests.

Quirin came in to tell Varian to go to bed. “The nest will be gone come morning, and you can go over to Paul's and thank him. You can bring him some of our apples, as a gift.” Quirin told him.

“Okay Dad.” Varian said half-heartedly. He knew he was missing out on something exciting. And Varian knew he could have been helpful- he started fires all the time, sometimes on purpose even! But when Quirin made a decision, he didn't budge. Varian would have to wait til morning.

The morning came soon enough, a bright sunny day. Varian ate breakfast with his father, who was pleased Varian hadn't snuck out last night to watch the beekeeper work. (Varian had considered it.) Quirin smiled and gave him permission to go see Paul, handing Varian a bucket of apples father and son had gathered the day before.

“I won't take long Dad, cause I know we've got work to do in the orchard.” Varian said.

“Good boy. Tell Paul I said hi and ask him about his honey.” Quirin replied.

“Okay Dad.” Varian nodded and went on his way. Paul lived towards the outskirts of Old Corona, past the shepherds. Varian waved as he walked past Katie's house. On another day, he might have stopped by, but today he didn't have the time. Quirin expected him to be very quick with his visit to Paul so he could do his chores afterwards. Varian soon saw Paul out with his hives and smiled.

“Hi Paul! Dad says hi and to give you these apples as a thank you for getting rid of the hornet's nest.” Varian called out.

“Wonderful! Nothing beats your father's apples for quality.” Paul praised. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Maybe you could tell me something about the hives.” Varian pointed.

“Ah. Well the hives I have are different from a hornet's nest. Hornets can kill honeybees for starters. They're aggressive. I got a few stings last night, but I managed to smoke them out and then I was able to destroy their nest. Now for my colonies, I use a hive stand. It elevates the bottom born of the hive and keeps it dry. The bottom board serves as the floor of the colony and is open in the front. It's a landing platform for foraging bees. Next is a series of boxes or hive bodies containing the brood nest and the honey supers where the surplus honey is stored. You wouldn't believe it, but when filled with honey they can weight 60 lbs! You have to be strong to be a beekeeper.” Paul bragged.

“Wow.” Varian was very impressed with the engineering behind beekeeping.

“The suspended beeswax comb is held within a frame. Each frame consists of a top bar, two end bars, and a bottom bar. My top bars and grooved and the bottom bars solid. I nail V-sharped metal frame spacers on ledges for reinforcement. The comb foundation consists of thin sheets of beeswax. Thin surplus foundation is used to produce comb honey, while a thicker foundation is used for the brood chamber. I secure these with metal support pins. A queen excluder confines the queen and brood rearing to the brood nest, while allowing the workers to pass through. The inner cover rests on the top of the uppermost super and beneath the outer cover. It prevents bees from gluing down the outer telescoping cover with wax and also provides insulation. The outer cover protects all the hive parts from weather. It fits over the inner cover and top edge of the uppermost hive body. With the inner cover in place, I can remove the outer cover if needed and disturb few bees. It's rather impressive, don't you think?” Paul couldn't resist showing off, explaining things to the boy. It wasn't often than he had an audience, and he wanted to make the most of it.

“It is really neat.” Varian agreed. “I don't think Dad would let me try beekeeping, though.”

“Probably not. It's a very specialized field and I enjoy it. Would you like some honey to take back home, in exchange for listening to me ramble?” Paul offered.

“Yes, please.” Varian nodded.

Paul went and got a jar. “Here you are! Apples for me, and honey for you. A good deal all around.” Paul held out his hand for Varian to shake. “Call me again if you find another nest where one shouldn't be! I'm happy to help.”

“Thanks, Paul.” Varian said. He might have missed the removal of a nest, but he'd learned something new and he had honey to bring back home. Not a bad start to the day. He smiled as he walked home, eager to share both the honey and the knowledge of how it was stored with his Dad.

The End

Varian is braver than I am. I wouldn't want to investigate a hornet's nest, I'd just want it gone.

#tangled the series #tts #tts varian #tangled varian #varian #tts quirin #tangled quirin #quirin #citizens of old corona #beekeeping #fanfiction #fanfic #my fiction

[commander-orca]

COTW fanfiction

CHAPTER 3: PINK RIBBON

The small bedroom was comfortable and welcoming. Its only window made penetrate through diaphanous curtains, a warm and soft light which diffused with lightness. Its bare walls and their clay consistency, dull and shapeless, could have brought austerity and coldness, but the light entered, warming the room. At its center sat a creaking old rocking chair that rocked by itself, supporting a stack of books and a wooden bed facing it. The furniture had been well chosen, so as to give off a rustic and simple atmosphere. Suoh had kept his word. A thin layer of sand had piled up on the clay which served as the covering on the ground. Anywhere else it would have sounded rude, but on Faleina, where sand seeped into every nook and cranny, the cleanliness was just fine. Either way, Orca didn't care. He would hate to be taken care of under these circumstances. The mere fact that he had received this morning a visit from a native making him bring his breakfast was enough to make him uncomfortable.

The man was sitting on the bed, awake a good hour ago. The bowl of herbs he'd received earlier, resting on his lap. Orca had never seen with his eyes these plants with the original forms but they seemed to him to be bamboo shoots. These plants were succulent and he was pleasantly surprised; they had the tenderness of fish and the sweetness of milk. Their taste was incomparable to anything he had tasted. This subtle scent of vanilla carried her away to an elsewhere sweeter and brighter than this world. He saw smiles for a moment and lush green meadows ... Orca wondered for a moment if the world of his dreams could have contained such good ones. If this world of flowers from parallel universes that he had dreamed of completing could have fomented such a beautiful creation. Then he shook his head. He had made his decision yesterday. He was giving up the idea of ​​going back in time. Nevertheless, he kept asking himself ... Did he make the right choice? If he was wrong once again about the legitimacy of the good plan to follow ... He was sure to collapse for good.

It was then that he was brooding over these dark thoughts that the door opened halfway and a young girl entered the room, discreet. Orca looked up, preparing to fire another local resident, but the sight he encountered petrified him in the spot. For a moment he couldn't breathe. He could only look at her and bathe in the halo of that blissful joy that she exhaled. His sister stood there in front of him in a pretty powder pink dress that lit up his face. A long white ribbon had been tied around her waist and she was smiling. She was smiling. His eyes brimming with light left Orca stunned and he remained silent, unable to make any sound since at that moment all words were flying away. This vision seemed to him to be an apparition. He would only have believed it achievable in his dreams, when he imagined his sister by his side, together, happy. But she was there, very close to him, her radiant expression aimed in his direction. It was everything he had ever wanted ...

"Did you sleep well big brother?" Lykos asked, his voice tender.

Orca found himself unable to recover, too busy looking at her that he was. After a moment of silence, he finally looked for an answer.

" Pretty good ".

And it was true. Apart from his prosthesis which had thrown his leg a few hours before dawn, his night had been comfortable.

"I'm so happy you came to live here!"

"It's temporary," Orca retorted coldly, unsettled by this unequivocal remark.

Lykos seemed to notice his confusion as she approached him and took his hands gently. What she had once taken for a form of bluntness was nothing but protection, against words that shook her. She understood better now.

"You don't need to decide right away," she patiently assured him, "Just let me show you why I stayed and why I would like you to stay too…"

His brother let himself sit up, a little hesitant but resigned to accompany him. After all, visiting the island would be useful if he wanted to save the Clay Whale as he had promised. And if he really integrated the war council, having a good knowledge of the place would be essential in the event of an attack and in order to plan possible evacuations. Carried away by his sister's hand, he followed her outside, blinking to get used to the sun that was already beating heavily on the island at this hour. Together, they crossed the sandy streets that meandered through a district of low, round houses identical to his. The still damp linen hung from the windows without panes and their colors gave an air of celebration to the new day however harmless which was announced for its inhabitants. Orca watched it all, confused by so many charms, but he kept returning his gaze to his sister, his eyes following the pale ribbon that swirled around her waist. As they made their short trot, the houses grew out of steam and unfolded green gardens and better ventilated cobblestone streets. Further north, the cries of young people and the towing of boats could be heard in the miniature harbor. As they cut through the orchard, a sour smell curled around them. Gathered around a tree, young people were picking large ripe fruits in baskets. One of them sported dark brown hair that had been tied into a ponytail.

"Could I see Itia?" Orca inquired, the sight of the children having suddenly reminded him of the young woman.

" Of course ! "

The man lost himself in thought, trying to guess if Itia was okay. He knew she was being looked after by the few caregivers on the ship. She was obviously in good hands and should be up and running quickly; the thought reassured him. Once put back, it would be perfectly in place here. Itia had seen her native land crumble and her loved ones and everyone else being slaughtered before her eyes. She had more in common with the locals here than anyone, there was no doubt that they would get along wonderfully and offer her a place among them. However, a doubt assailed his mind. During the negotiations on Karkarias, she had suffered non-minor injuries. And through his fault once again. Itia could have consequences for life ...

"Are you crying, big brother?"

 Orca halted and noticed that the tears had spilled onto her cheeks. He wiped his eyes slowly, his face disappearing into the long bangs of his hair. Lykos just smiled at him and started walking again." 

Do not worry. It was just a few scratches ”.

Did he dramatize things? He kept his eyes on the ground. Lykos was half hiding her amusement. Little by little she gave in to a heartfelt laugh.

"I have the impression of finding you little by little ..."

In the center of the island, the four majestic towers of the island crossed on the height and glittered with solar reflections. All the buildings were decorated with conches and other sybinic objects that sometimes emerged from the sea of ​​sand. Children in mismatched clothes were playing in the main square, having fun throwing a yellow pebble on the cobblestones. The pebble rebounded a few times before landing in a box that had been drawn on the ground. The winner heaped up a small mound of stones on his side, such seemed to be their game. Upstream from the square, stood a wall which separated the town center from a cove overlooking a rocky beach. Sitting on this wall, the Prince of the Kingdom of Amonlogia, watched the game with great interest. Nearby, three children were chatting on the steps of a staircase. Mechanical parts of all kinds littered the ground at their feet, and assembly plans formed a jumbled pile on their knees. The last child, sitting behind them paid little attention to them, busy scribbling in a pocket notebook.

“Chakuro! Her sister called, waving her arm briskly.

The boy's face lit up and, eagerly slipping his writings and his notebook into his large bottle apron, he rushed towards them.

"Are you showing your brother the Whale, Lykos?" He asked, his excitement piercing through her breathless voice.Lykos responded by nodding enthusiastically and Chakuro took her by the shoulders for a short moment, a mark of affection that Orca did not miss. He could see the warmth that emanated from her gaze when he looked at her, the attention he gave her and that particular tenderness. She seemed to be a truly precious person to him. Chakuro then turned to Orca, his hands pressed to his chest.

" And you sir ? What do you think of the Whale? "

Chakuro's mistrust was not easy to read. At first glance, he seemed quite warm and open to conversation. He was considerate, cared for his well-being, besides being unmistakably sincere, wishing the best for him. However, its posture did not deceive, indicated all of his dismay; his body, turned outwards, showed that he only wanted to find an excuse that would allow him to escape. Those arms he crossed over his chest were like armor protecting him from him. Orca understood such a reaction. How to blame him? After all, he was the murderer of his comrades ...And he was also in an awkward position to answer her. To neglect the charm of the island by responding too casually would be ungrateful of him. However, showing too much vehemence to praise the beauty of this country would be extremely inappropriate, given that he had sought from the beginning, only to reduce it to nothing.

"It's a beautiful place," Orca said at last, choosing his words carefully.

His words seemed to please the young boy as he smiled back at him.

“It makes me really happy that you like this place. You will see, you will get attached to it quickly. The Whale is so wonderful that even the Princes leave their palaces to come and live there! "

At her words, he nodded towards the wall, catching Rochalizo's attention. The latter greeted him in return, smiling, his hand in a peak on his forehead and looking indolent. Then, seeing Orca, his face closed and he glared at her.

"It is likely, indeed," Orca said, looking away from Chakuro.

The two young people who had remained behind came to meet them, having preferred to walk up to them. The first, named Nezu, donned a peach-colored beanie over his smooth skull and had small hazel eyes. The other, Roh, was a studious-looking weakling, red metal glasses resting on the root of his nose. They introduced themselves quickly and exchanged a few words with him and his sister. Orca expected to be left with the few commonplace expressions of politeness they exchanged. However, that was without counting on one of the boys who interrupted the conversation with a curious request.

"Excuse me sir, I wanted to ask you ... I noticed that you are limping ... It's because of that thing, isn't it?" He said, pointing at his prosthesis.

“Don't be rude, Nezu!” Lykos scolded him.

“It wasn't my goal, it was just a question!

-It's still inappropriate! "

The question caught Orca off guard, but he answered it anyway, assuming his most placid air. Such a small story was far from making him uncomfortable.

“Indeed, this prosthesis is new to me. I lost my leg in an accident and a friend was forced to amputate it for me with what little equipment he had. He was able to carve one for me emergency dummy, in a sandfish tusk. I'm not quite used to it yet ”.

Roh and Nezu hung on his lips throughout his explanations. Their eyes were shining, certainly imagining the new possibilities open to them and their view of technology. Orca could almost see inventions swarming their minds. It was clear that the two children would not deprive themselves from today, to try to extract information from him about the technical advances within the Empire. The Whale's gadgets and designs could seem both more primitive and accessible at the same time, as if, compared to his native land, time had stood still here. Obviously, only a few hundred people populated this island, resulting in fewer brains at work. But that was far from the case; a frozen country would not have continued to create and imagine all these curious technical objects that he had glimpsed on his arrival. Whale technology had simply taken another route.

"So ... you need some kind of cane!" Roh cried.

These children had an acute attraction for science, the slightest invention was enough to put them in a strong state of frenzy. Were they even aware, the man wondered, of the price these inventions in the Empire had cost. How many human lives had been required ... Science sometimes helped. But most of the time, it came for the benefit of Man.

“I had one. Unfortunately, I misplaced her… ”Orca lied, still smiling at them.

The idea flashed through both of their brains at the same time and exploded in their faces, waving their arms and legs. A moment later the children were feverish, trembling from the inventor's fever. They ran away, barely taking the time to take a last look over their shoulders.

"Don't worry M'sieur!" We will make you one again!

-Yeah, even it will be even more beautiful and more efficient! "

The three friends watched them run off, then Chakuro and Lykos turned to Orca, smiling happily. Orca didn't look at them. He felt an invisible pain pinch his heart and some sadness overwhelm him. So much free and disinterested kindness scared him. How could you be so generous to someone who had caused you so much trouble? Did the kindness of the inhabitants of the Whale therefore have no limits?

#kujira no kora wa sajou ni utau #kujira no kora #children of the whales #children of the whale #cotw #les enfants de la baleine #suoh #suou #ohni #chakuro #lykos #lycos #orca #kannavi #itia #kuchiba #masoh #rochalizo #cotw fanfiction #fanfiction

[catsandstrawberries]

Real Family: Part 9

Pairings: BTS x teen female reader, platonic love

Warnings: Language, neglect, a major panic attack involving past child abuse 

A/N: Heavy panic attack at the end, Yoongis a douche 

Summary: It’s not blood that makes a family. It’s love.

Masterlist 

“Are you sure none of you cant come with me?” I asked wiping my sweaty palms on my black stockings, harshly gripping the sleeves of my black Gucci backpack that Taehyung had bought for me. The night before I had felt so prepared, but as soon as I woke up everything felt like it was going downhill.

~

The consistent beeping of the smoke detector immediately caused me to jolt up and rush out of my room and down the stairs as fast as possible. The oaky smell of burnt food lingers in the kitchen and I quickly catch on as I see streams of smoke escaping from a pan that was currently placed in the sink. Jungkook stands anxiously in the kitchen, standing on a chair and trying to deactivate the smoke alarm with a broom. I try to call out his name but instead, I'm met with a coughing fit from the puff of smoke wafting towards me. Yoongi is the first to run into the room, “what the fuck Jungkook!” At his exclamation, Jungkook jumps down from the chair successfully turning off the alarm.

“I was just trying to make (Y/N) breakfast since it was her first day of school,” Jungkook mutters while I stare wide-eyed at the fact Jungkook wanted to do something so nice for me. And the fact that there seemed to be more steam coming out of Yoongi's ears than from the burnt pan.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I've barely gotten two hours of sleep and I still need to finish recording my song and learning the dance moves that you,” he glared at Jungkook, poking him in the chest, “can't teach me because you're so busy trying to help her.” I wanted to defend Jungkook, even myself and stand up to Yoongi, ask why he hated me so much. But a third, annoyed voice appeared growling at Yoongi.

“Go back to bed Min.” Yoongi turned around as if he was ready to argue but once he saw the annoyed look on Namjoon’s face he stormed out of the room. Bumping shoulders with the man as he did so. All I could do was watch, and awkwardly shift towards the glass panes.

“Ill open some windows.”

After getting out most of the smoke and listening to Jin complain about his precious kitchen and how Jungkook shouldn't even step foot near a metal pan for the next week I decided to get changed. Namjoon had given me a box the other day filled with school uniforms for Lee’s Science and Performing Arts Academy. Interesting combination. The main colors of the school were black and green so all of the outfits corresponded to the colors. One outfit was a black and green skirt, black tights, black sweater, the second outfit was exactly the same but instead of a black sweater, it was dark green and came with knee-high black socks. The last one was black jeans with a white button up and a dark green vest and suit jacket. I choose the first option, and it wasn't until after I was dressed when I realized how time-consuming it was to properly put black tights on. Checking myself over in the mirror I went back and forth from deciding if I should tuck my sweater into my skirt or leave it untucked. Eventually deciding to tuck the front half. As soon as I had grabbed my bag Namjoon was yelling from the bottom of the stairs about how they needed to leave and then we were all rushing out the door. Squeezing into the SUV wasn't that hard when Namjoon was driving, yet the earlier events in the kitchen made the ride tense.

“Do I really have to go in by myself, don't I need an adult to talk to the principal or something?” I asked once again, spotting the huge school with the green and white sign that stated in bold letters, ‘School of Lee's Science and Performing Arts.’ Namjoon glanced at Jin who was sitting in the passenger seat,

“I'm actually not needed until 10 since there recording rap line and doing a practice for only dance line.” I straightened in my seat, a relieved smile gracing my features. “Really?” Jin answered my question by hopping out of the car and I quickly followed in his footsteps, a strange feeling washing over me when I heard Jimin mumble,

“they're both growing up so fast, feels like we just met her a few weeks ago.”

The closer I got to the school the more I noticed how fancy it was. The front of the building was covered by a huge courtyard, currently covered with a thin sheet of snow. The sides seemed to have tennis, basketball courts and larger fields in the back. I looked back up at Jin and suddenly felt horrible for begging him to walk into the school with me. Jin opened the door for me, “thanks Jin, not just for the door though. I'm sorry if you didn't want to come with, it was stupid, I'm just being such a chi-” Jin placed a hand on my shoulder giving me a reassuring smile,

“hey it's fine. I'm actually glad I came with you, also I may have killed Jungkook or Yoongi if I had to spend another moment with them, my poor kitchen.” I laughed at his joke and watched as he started to lead me through the maze of the school, following the signs that led to the principal's office. I looked around at the empty halls, assuming that most kids were in class since the hallways were dead silent and school had started about an hour ago.

Before I knew it we were standing in front of the principal's office, Jin giving a few light taps to the door followed by a faint “come in.”

The office was clean, green walls and white trimmings giving the room a strange glow. In the center of the room was a wooden desk, a plaque stating, ‘principal Lee.’ The man sitting behind the desk in the wheeling chair gave us each a friendly smile, he looked to be in his fifties, black hair greying at the ends, wrinkles forming around his eyes and mouth. He stood up from his chair offering both of us a handshake, “you must be (Y/N), and you're..”  

“Kim Seokjin.” He sat back down and motioned for us to sit in the two unoccupied chairs. He took out a vanilla folder, opening it and flipping through the files before taking out a single piece of paper.

“It says here, Kim Namjoon and Kim Seokjin are your primary care members.” He looked back up to Jin, “Everything seems to be in order.” He grabbed another paper from the folder and reached out to hand it to me,

“Here's your schedule, let's take you to your first class.”

The hallways seemed busier than my last school, the students seemed less friendly (maybe that was just the uniforms) and everyone seemed to be staring at me wherever I went. After Mr. Lee had dropped me off at my third-period history class I quickly noticed the girls staring me down from the other side of the room. Rather than listening about Lincoln's inauguration all I could focus on was the whispers behind my back.

Lunch came sooner than expected and I was happily shocked to find that instead of gross mystery meat and yellow gush that most schools served, there was an array of foods that actually looked good. Also what school served lobster? Apparently rich private schools did. But the worst part of it all was finding a place to sit. The lunchroom was littered with numerous green tables. Some fitting groups of kids throwing footballs, doing homework, and fooling around on electronics. A tap on my shoulder caused me to turn around, a girl my age stood behind me, curly blond hair and dark green eyes adjoined her oval face. Her tan skin seemed to glow in the lights and the intense coats of mascara on her eyes looked painful.

“Hi, my names Amber, would you like to sit with us?” She pointed towards the table behind her, filled with girls and boys all fooling around with one another. I hesitated, looking at the girls pointed smile,

“um sure.” She grabbed my wrist, rather roughly if I might add, dragging me to the table of teens. She pushed over a girl, mumbling a ‘move over’ under her breath as she squeezed me in. “I never got your name?” The girl who had been texting on her phone looked up from the bright screen to stare at me wonder in her eyes.

“My names (Y/N).” Amber’s eyes darkened for a moment as she spoke,

“That's a cool name. These are my friends, Olivia and Rachel.” She pointed to the girl who looked up at me wide-eyed and the other girl sitting next to Amber. Both seemed equally interested in me and before I could ask Olivia quickly spoke up.

“So is it true that you live with BTS?” She laid her cheek on the table, starry-eyed looking into the distance. Before I could answer Rachel started practically screeching.

“Is Suga Hyung that attractive in person?” The way she said his name left a bitter taste in my mouth and I almost wanted to tell her not to call him that. “Oh, he must be so nice! Do you call him dad? You're so lucky to live with seven attractive boys.” Sure, Lucky. Lucky to be adopted by seven strangers, lucky to have Yoongi hate me, and apparently lucky enough that most people in this school only want to talk to me because of my new “family.”

“Actually-”

“Look guys its the school pig!” Rachel and Olivia started to laugh at Ambers joke, faces turned towards a girl sitting by herself at a lunch table. She clearly had heard the joke because she immediately put her food down, eyes glazing over.

“How many donuts do you think she can fit in her mouth? 10, 20?” I glared at Rachel. “Ok, you have no right to say anything negative about someone's body type.” I turned to Amber then locked eyes with the girl, standing up and leaving the lunch room.  

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. The day consisting of me being awed by the entails of fancy school and shocked by how boring classes were. I had also realized that the school was filled with rich kids whose parents were either a co-leader for Pepsi or distantly related to Gordon Ramsey. By the time the bell had rung I had practically run out of the building searching for the familiar SUV. When I had finally found it, I expected to be met with one of the boys but instead opened the door to meet a complete stranger.

“Oh, sorry wrong car.” Just before I could shut the door the driver pulled down his black face mask.

“Actually I'm your new chauffeur.”

This ‘new chauffeur’ drove me straight home. The car ride awkwardly quiet as I stared out the window, around the car, and basically everywhere except for him.

“Thank you,” as soon as he pulled into the driveway I was jumping out of the car, itching to get out of the tight school uniform. Entering the large house it was eerily quiet,

“Hello?” When no one answered I realized what Namjoon had said the other day about their long week of practice due to there comeback. Taking off my shoes, I brought my bag to the living room plopping down on the couch and starting on my homework.

~

A gentle shove on my shoulder causes me to groan, rolling onto my side, facing away from my perpetrator. Whoever it is, tells me something along the baseline of ‘get up.' But my foggy brain doesn't register anything but the nice warm blanket I'm wrapped in. The person continues there an assault, flipping my body back, so I'm facing their direction. I groan in annoyance, pulling the blanket up and over my face,

“Kayleigh you really need to wake up.” The blankets pulled off my body, and I immediately shrivel into a ball trying to contain as much heat as possible. “I have to get going, Kayleigh. Your driver will be here soon so get ready.” At his words, I'm sitting up from the bed,

“wait, so you aren't driving me to school anymore?” I rub at my blurry eyes, blinking rapidly to try and gain back my vision.  Once I can suitably see, I find an anxious Hoseok who looks back and forth from me and the door. He opens and closes his mouth, debating what to say until a loud honk interrupts the silence.

“I should go.”

Fourth-period precalculus was a disaster. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, and every time I tried to raise my hand and ask a question the teacher would skip over me, and move on. What made it even worse, was how easy the class was. I was placed in precalc to catch up with my peers. If anything, I felt like I was falling back, in comparison to the rest of the class. Not to mention that most of the other kids in my grade were in calculus, so if anything I was already behind.

So you can imagine how happy I was when the shrill ring of the fire alarm interrupted my pre-calc class. Grabbing my coat, I raced after the students, slightly giddy until I stepped outside and felt the cold chill of the January air.

“Why do we have fire drills in January?” I muttered, rubbing my arms through the sleeves of the jacket, not expecting an answer.

   “The school board keeps getting complaints about safety and how the school doesn't prepare their students for harmful situations.” I shifted my head towards a girl, the same girl who was sitting in the cafeteria and being made fun of. “My mom works with the school board.” She added, shivering slightly. I then took notice of her appearance. She had short chocolate brown hair that fell straight in a bob, piercing blue eyes and darker washed skin. She filled out her uniform, slightly curvy but perfect proportionate for her height around 5’6. I didn't understand why Amber was making fun of her, I thought she was beautiful. What I noticed the most was her shirt-sleeved white button up that tagged along with her uniform. She must be freezing. As if she could read my thoughts, her body started to shake, fingers clenching to get blood flow back into them.

“Here, you must be freezing.” I took off my coat, holding it out to the girl who rapidly shook her head.

“Oh no, it's ok. I mean it looks like a nice jacket, and I probably won't fit I'm a little, bigger-.” I interrupted her before she could say more,

   “Please, just take it.” I smiled at the girl who gave me an unsure look. With some more convincing she finally took the material. “I'm (Y/N) by the way.” She smiled,

   “I know. We have almost all of our classes together.”

Oh Shit

   She immediately started laughing at my reaction while I looked appalled, great first impression.

“I'm Zara. Thanks for standing up for me by the way.” The students started making their way back into the building, and the two of us followed the crowd but made sure to stick close together.

   “If it's any consolation, I think you're beautiful.”

After talking to Zara, we both had realized that we had every class together except for math. She, of course, was in honors abstract algebra, instead of asking her what that meant I just smiled and nodded. Talking to Zara was like breathing fresh air, her personality was so calming and youth filled, it reminded me that it was ok to be a kid. That I didn't always have to be the girl who thought she was alone.

She was also hilariously funny,

“I have a BTS water noodle.” I stumbled in my jog, almost tripping over my own two feet. The gymnasium walls smelt of sweat and privilege, and usually, I'd be annoyed because it's gym class. But since I started running with Zara, I hadn't stopped smiling. “My younger sister loves BTS. So for my birthday, she got me a BTS water noodle. I never use it, but my younger sister takes it with her whenever the word water is mentioned.” The whistle sharply blew, cutting through the air and stopping all of the teens from running and talking. Turning our head toward the gym teacher, he motioned towards a bag of soccer balls.

“Get in groups of two and work on passing.” Mr. Ping was young, yet still looked older than Jin. He was tall, lean and muscular. He seemed to be in his early thirties, a silver band wrapped around his ring finger that he unashamedly flashed at some girls (and boys) when they would look at him for too long. When I first met him, he had immediately shown me a portrait in his office of a baby boy in a sports onesie. Definitely a family man.

   After Zara grabbed a ball, we headed towards one corner of the room, kicking the ball back and forth to one another.

   “Do you think our gym teachers hot?” I choked on my own salvia, the ball racing past me, as I had no intention to stop it. For a moment I thought she was joking. Until I saw the serious look on her face.

“Isn't he in his thirties?” My voice of reason did nothing to stop her train of thought.

“So? That's only a thirteen-year difference.”

“He's engaged-”

       “But not married, something could change.”

“Zara he has a kid.” The girl paled then nodded in my direction as if she was praising me for winning the silly query.

“Touché”

Unlike any other school day I had ever experienced, authentic happiness was coursing through my veins, and not just because it was a Friday. After school had ended I quickly got Zara's number in my phone and the thought of having this year be different; new home, friends, school, maybe things would be different.

Opening the door to the mansion, I found Yoongi and Jimin death glaring at one another, seething words at each other that I couldn't hear. Namjoon was in the background, frantically cleaning while Jin was yelling words I couldn't understand at the two.

“Is everything ok?” I asked while slipping my shoes off. The boys didn't seem to notice me until now, all four sets of eyes turning to me.

“Everything's fine.”

“Everything's fucking horrible.”

   Jimin and Yoongi both spoke up at the same time while Jin harshly glared between the two before softening his gaze on me.

   “Kayleigh why don't you go find the rest of the boys.” I nodded but before I could move Taehyung and Jungkook were peaking there heads out from upstairs.

“The upstairs is all clean.” Hoseok then appeared from the living room area, “the rooms are good.”

“(Y/N), why don't you go get changed for the social worker.” Oh, that's why everyone seemed so nervous. I passed Yoongi, heading to the stairs but his quiet whispers became exceptionally clear all of a sudden.

“Huh, you must love this. This attention from seven world-famous guys. Why do you think people want to be your friend at school? Its because they want to meet us.” I knew Yoongi didn't like me, that was obvious. But I wouldn't let him imply that Zara was only my friend because of them. Clenching my fist, I turned a full 180, coming face to face with Yoongi. I tried not to overthink how I basically had to look up at him or the fact that his death glare made me want to crawl into a hole and bury myself alive.

“What the fuck is your problem?” My voice was calm and steady, but the anger in me was on the edge of boiling over. “You've hated me ever since you saw me at the orphanage,  I didn't ask for you to adopt me, I was perfectly fine where I was.”

The words coming out of my mouth were bitter. Lies that I spewed to get a reaction because I knew everything was so much better here than living in foster care.

"What have I ever done to you? Ever since I've gotten here, all you've done is act like I'm a leech on your shoulder. What, are you too intimidated by the fact you actually have to grow up?”

Fuck, my eyes widened immediately at his hardened gaze, I went too far. Before I could apologize or back down the venom in his voice pushed me further. “This,” he made eye contact with Namjoon, motioning his hands towards me, “is why I didn't want her.”

“Yoongi!” I couldn't tell who's voice was shouting because my head was spinning and my vision was blurring. This always happened, someone, deciding that I wasn't good enough, that I didn't fit the right standards. I couldn't handle it, not again.  

“You should have left me at the orphanage.” I seethed, his answer was automatic, I think that's what hurt the most.

“I wish I had.” A few shouts from the boys sounded through the room, but what made me turn my head was the feminine voice that cleared her throat. Katie stood in the doorway, clipboard in hand and a disappointed look on her face, this wasn't how I wanted to see her again. I suddenly felt the need to apologize for my actions, tell her that Yoongi and I were faking it and we secretly cared about each other. But the words that parted from her mouth in an exasperated sigh was what broke me.

“Not again (Y/N).”

I was rushing up the stairs as soon as the last syllable left her mouth, hand over my parted lips to stop the sob attempting to escape. I narrowly missed Jungkook's grabbing hands at the top of the stairs trying to stop me, but I snuck through and rushed into my room. Locking the door and falling to my knees, I finally let the tears fall, why did I have to screw it up again?

I angrily threw my belongings into my bag, teeth clenched both in anger and to stop the sobs tempting to reach the surface. After I had shut my door, muffled yelling had erupted from the downstairs, I hated how I was the reason for them fighting. The static in my head only grows once the fear of going back to my old life enters my mind, and once I significantly calm my breathing down a knock sounds from my door. I hold my breath, waiting for the voice to identify itself,

“(Y/N), can you let me in. It's just me, I promise.”

I tempted keeping the door shut, telling him that I couldn't do this. I walk up to the door, leaning my forehead up against the cool wood. Gently wiping the tears from my face, my hand hovers over the knob, in a split moment decision I decide to unlock it. I open the door, turning my back to him and sitting on the bed, I run my fingers on the blankets, wondering if I would spend another night in the building.

“Do you want to stay?” I look up a Jin, probably red-faced and teary-eyed from crying.

“Do you want me too?”

Instead of answering Jin gave me a gentle smile, sitting on the bed next to me, but sitting far enough away to keep his space.

“Did you know,” he started cracking a grin, “that whenever I'm sad I read my blood donor ID?” I raised an eyebrow at the man,

“Why?” I sniffed,

“Because it always says, ‘B positive.’” Jins face morphed into a full out grin, and an obnoxious windshield wiper laugh filled my ears. The joke wasn't necessarily funny, but his genuine laugh is what made me smile.

“Ah, there's that smile.” He scooted closer on the bed as a silence developed between the two of us. “Yoongi's difficult, it took most of us half a year till we really connected. When Yoongi found out he had to live with you, it scared him. He can barely even take care of himself so how's he supposed to take care of a child? He doesn't want commitment.” I couldn't help but hear the hidden meaning in his words.

They don't want commitment.

“Why am I even here? There's a reason why you didn't answer the question, its because you don't want to lie to me.” I stood up from the bed, tears forming in my eyes. I couldn't do this, I couldn't handle it, why was everyone lying to me? I rushed out of the room just as Jin reached out to me.

The thoughts are accelerating inside my head. I want them to slow so I can breathe but they won't. My breaths come in gasps and I feel like I'll black out. My heart is hammering inside my chest like it belongs to a rabbit running for its skin. The room spins and I kneel on the floor, trying to make everything slow to something my brain and body can cope with. I feel so sick. I stand up, rushing towards the exit, feet traveling forward until one hits a side table, causing it to tilt and wiggle. A tall, glass candle sways side to side on the table, before falling to the floor, shattering into millions of tiny pieces.

It starts slowly, the feeling of dread crawling up in my chest, spreading like a drop of ink onto a wet piece of paper. Darkening my thoughts and making it harder for me to see, breath. It doesn't take long for my breath to quicken, eyes wide and chest rising in an uneven pattern as I try to suck in as much air as possible. As if the moment I stop trying there won't be any air left. The shattered glass on the floor causes me to wince, past memories of breaking things by accident and being beaten because of it entering my mind. Tears are flowing down my eyes like a dam had just broken, the drops dripping down my face and onto my hands. My sight becomes blurry and flashes of the belt, my father, shouting and my own screams are all I can remember.

“I'm so sorry.” I choke out, chest tight, and standing in front of me are three shocked boys. Namjoon takes a step forward, fist clenched and an unreadable expression on his face.

“Please don't hit me.”

The boy stops, and so do the others behind him, visibly tensing. “I'll clean it up, I'll pay for it.” I knew whatever I had knocked overlooked expensive, everything did in this house. I drop to my knees, scrambling to pick up the broken pieces of glass,       “(Y/N) stop you’ll cut yourself.” Just as Hoseok said, blood starts flowing from my palms, he drops to my level suddenly and i'm scrambling back. Holding my bloody hands out as if they could protect me, back hitting the wall, “please don't hurt me again, it was an accident, i'm so sorry.” My breathings ragged, uneven and I'm hyperventilating. I close my eyes as if they could block out the events unfolding in front of me. Hands gently cup my face and im eye to eye with Jin, “We won't hurt you here, ok? Just breath.” I take a big gasp in, but can't stop the broken, strangled release of air. Hoseok's kneeling beside me just in time as the world around me gets blurry, Jins two eyes soon becoming four as everything turns sideways, and I finally collapse.

#BTS Family #bts series #bts #btsgifs #bts ot7 #ot7 x reader #Poly BTS #bts x reader poly #bts poly au #panic attack #abuse #child abuse #kim seokjin #jungkook x reader #Platonic love #jin x reader #x reader #bts polyamory

[spookyspaghettisundae]

After All These Years

Snow gently fell outside the diner’s window. Danielle sipped from her cup of steaming hot coffee and watched the spectacle of Sheriff Blake arguing with Old Gambino, whose snowplow had broken down and now blocked the narrow road. Gambino’s arms flailed as he flapped his mouth and Blake visibly recoiled from him. The window and distance almost turned it into a silent film and gave it a comical look.

Michelle, who sat in the same booth, leaned over the table and clicked her tongue to draw Danielle’s attention.

“You know this is crazy, right?”

Danielle peeled her eyes away from the roadside conflict and let the exhaustion from the fifteen-hour drive weigh down her eyelids. Soaking up the warmth inside the diner that slowly dispelled the tingling cold from outside, with the sounds of Eva tinkering and toiling away in the kitchen, and that pleasant smell of the black coffee rising into her nostrils, it was easy for Danielle to imagine that her twin sister Michelle didn’t exist.

Still feeling the weariness of rolling up the roads from the city all the way to the sleepy town of Evergreen, she opened her eyes again and gave Michelle a tired smile.

“You know as well as I do that I had to come here. It was a letter from Harry. Our best friend,” she reminded her sister.

“Who has been dead for over ten years,” Michelle countered.

Danielle shrugged and sighed, taking another sip from her cup. Michelle hadn’t touched the cup in front of her on her side of the table.

“Like we haven’t seen our share of hoaxes. You’d think that the supposed UFO lights over the old reservoir, or the kids gone missing in the Misty Pines, or Butcher Benson’s grisly murder would have made us just throw that out. Just disbelieve such a thing flat out,” Michelle continued.

Danielle put her cup back down and poured some sugar into it. Michelle just glared at her in the moment of awkward silence, filled by the clink and clank of Danielle’s teaspoon mixing the sugar into the cup.

“I could really go for some of Eva’s pie,” Danielle said.

“No, you’re not gonna just drop that and—no. Even with what you and I know about all the, y'know, all the—occult stuff? You don’t believe that Harry’s ghost just up and possessed a pen, wrote a letter, got proper fucking postage, and sent it to you in the mail. Come on.”

Michelle crossed her arms.

Danielle peered over the edge of her cup at her and said, “Allie got a letter too.”

“Yeah, all the more reason to think it’s bullshit.”

“I thought so too, but she said it was his handwriting. And she had some guy she knows test it. Some expert. It was written recently. How do you explain that?”

Michelle’s lips formed a thin white line and her silence expressed a deep-rooted frustration. Invisible fumes rose from her head with her inability to rattle out a rational explanation for that.

“I don’t know, maybe Harry’s ghost possessed someone and, had them send the letter he wrote while riding the body?”

Danielle shook her head.

“No. I mean, maybe? That’s so far-fetched. Though it would explain a few things.”

Danielle craved a cigarette. The bad old habit crept up in the back of her mind, tickling her lizard-brain. She fought it by looking over to the pies on display. Eva was still busy in the kitchen, whipping up some breakfast for the truck driver sitting in the booth at the other end of the diner.

“So how about a little séance? We go to the cemetery, visit Harry’s grave, and—”

“Allie and Ryan came to Evergreen, too,” Danielle interrupted her.

A shadow passed over Michelle's face and she said, "Not Ryan. Rhiannon."

Danielle shrugged and continued on, "We all got a letter from him each. Looks to me like Harry wanted to get the whole gang back together again."

“And possessed someone to write a letter to the three of you. Yeah, this still makes no sense to me.”

“Allie also said she was attacked by a naked man wearing a horse’s head and carrying a street sign.”

Michelle just stared at Danielle upon hearing her say that. Stared right through her. Like her gaze consisted of two Superman-like eye-laser beams, and they were burning holes through the wall behind her.

Danielle leaned over the table, closer, and lowered her voice to a hiss to add, “Rhiannon said that Sheriff Blake told her to leave town when he got here.”

Michelle clicked her tongue again and shook her head, “So what? Blake always hated us. Doesn’t mean there’s any conspiracy going on in this crappy hick town.”

She leaned back in her seat and spread her arms across the length of it to lounge there with that same level of laziness that she always used to display.

“Okay. Sure, fair enough. It’s just weird, though. Also, look—even if this is just some prank—”

“You bet this is a prank. Listen, I think one of those jock assholes did a good job at faking Harry’s handwriting, and they’re gonna punk us if we show up at the reunion party.”

“Or, we could show up and then show them up with a prank of our own,” Danielle said with a feeble smirk.

“Oh, right,” Michelle said with a derisive giggle. “Like that’ll work out how you expect it to. Like that ever worked out.”

The smirk faded from Danielle’s face as those words cut through her confidence like a hot knife through butter.

“I have not forgotten that time when Bradley—that jerk—pantsed you in front of the team when you tried to mess with him,” Michelle said. “The cheerleaders sure had a—”

“Yeah, right. Okay, enough,” Danielle said to stop her.

Then her stomach growled.

Michelle grinned at her, “Isn’t that inconvenient? If only we could all be ghosts, without the need to eat and sleep, and all that.”

With a sigh, Danielle said, “Shut up.”

Michelle’s grin widened, stretching from ear to ear like the Cheshire cat. Danielle broke eye contact and took a bigger and greedier gulp from her coffee cup to squelch herself from replying with any profanities. The dark brown substance cooled with each passing second.

Eva had returned from the kitchen and served the truck driver a plate of eggs and bacon. The man over there replied in gravelly grumpy growls to Eva’s cheery tone, though it was far away enough for the jazzy background music playing from the speakers to drown out the precise words.

Taking a break from staring at her twin sister, Danielle looked back out the window and saw Blake helping Gambino push Mills’ tow truck. She had to stifle a giggle when the wheels spun without traction or moving the truck, and instead just shot a pile of muddy slush onto Blake’s jacket, prompting him to step away and glare at Old Gambino, then shout something at Mills.

When she looked back up at Michelle, her sister had tilted her head and just stared at her in that typical fashion whenever she expected her to admit she was right.

Danielle just shook her head and chose to continue ignoring her, so she waved Eva over.

The elderly waitress and now owner of the diner approached with a big beaming smile plastered across her face.

“What can I get'cha, darlin’?”

“I could really go for a slice of that apple pie,” Danielle said with a tired smile.

“Not for nothin’, but you do look like you could use some meat on those bones o’ yours,” Eva said with a mischievous wink. “Bet the boys in the city never leave you alone, huh?”

She turned to follow up on Danielle’s request. Danielle somehow wanted to feel mad about Eva’s comments—but couldn’t. This place hadn’t changed one bit in all these years.

Out of the blue, Michelle asked, “Allie said she slept in Room 214 of the Lakeview Inn, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Danielle said with a shrug and feeling more tired than before.

Maybe it was the mention of a place with warm beds—conveniently ignoring that Room 214 was “the suicide room.” Maybe it was just the stress and slow, grueling exhaustion from the long drive catching up on her, coupled with a chronic lack of sleep. Maybe it was having Michelle around all the time.

“Which is where the horse-headed freak attacked her.”

Danielle didn’t even merit that non-question with a word, she just nodded and mumbled a sound of confirmation through tight lips.

“She said that she woke up from a nightmare with a real injury that the freak had caused,” Michelle continued drilling.

Danielle didn’t feel like talking anymore, but she always appreciated the futility of saying so to her sister. Michelle always did whatever the hell she wanted and Danielle never felt like stopping her.

Not since the incident.

“Anyway, there’s no fucking way we’re staying in the Lakeview hotel,” Michelle said. “Wembley offed himself in that creepy-ass old Shining place. And Allie said she was attacked there. So. Just, no. No fucking way.”

Danielle set her jaw and decided she had to push back. Even if just a little bit.

Harry’s letter wasn’t a hoax. Allie wasn’t imagining things.

Something was wrong in their hometown. Always had been. And she had to get to the bottom of it.

“But what if there are ghosts? What if Evergreen is haunted? Shouldn’t we—of all people—be the ones to do something about it? To investigate?”

Michelle rolled her eyes and groaned.

“Okay. Fine, Nancy Drew. You win. We sleuth around, prove there are no ghosts, and get the fuck out of dodge again, before we get snowed in in this God-forsaken town.”

“I’m actually kinda worried about that,” Danielle said, shooting a glance outside to the beached snowplow and the combined efforts of Blake, Gambino, and Mills failing to move it from the ditch it was stuck in.

“Worried about what, sweetie?” asked Eva.

She had returned to the table with the pie Danielle had ordered. She put the plate down in front of her and gave her a smile, but it didn’t quite reach the woman’s eyes. The bright fluorescent lights reflecting in her irises flickered with worry.

“Oh, it’s nothing serious,” Danielle said. But her voice cracked and trembled with a hint of concern. “I do have to get back to work in a few days, and the snowfall is getting worse by the hour.”

“Yeah. But don’t you lose any sleep over it. Old Gambino will have it cleared out, just you wait. You can go to that high school reunion o’ yours and leave on time, no problem-o.”

Danielle forced herself to smile a sad smile at that, as she had zero interest in going to the high school reunion.

“You’re right, Eva,” Danielle said. She had to squeeze out the rest alongside a sigh, “You’re always right.”

Eva shuffled two steps closer and bit her lip before leaning in and whispering, “Maybe try to stop the, uh—you know what I mean? Them bullies might still hassle you over it. Y'know, some boys just never grow up.”

Eva’s pained smile poorly masked pity and it made Danielle more uncomfortable with each passing second. She forced herself to nod and peeled her gaze away from the waitress, then trained her eyes on the three men outside struggling to rescue the snowplow.

“Uh, do you want me to get you another cup o’ coffee? This one’s probably all cold now,” Eva asked.

From the corner of her eye, Danielle saw her point at the one on Michelle’s side of the table. Michelle’s gaze wandered back and forth between the two like someone watching a tennis match.

“Nah, it’s all good,” Danielle said. “I kinda like cold coffee.”

Eva took a deep breath and said, “Alright, knock yourself out. You need anything else, honey, just holler.”

Then the waitress left.

Danielle grabbed the cold coffee from Michelle’s side of the table. Michelle did nothing to stop her in any way, just giggled. Danielle poured sugar into the cup and stirred once more. The two of them remained silent while Eva visited the truck driver again, who had waved to her from across the diner.

Danielle asked Michelle with a frown, “Couldn’t you have, y'know—warned me? That I’m talking out loud again?”

She took a sip and winced. While the smell still enticed her, no amount of sugar could mask how strong the coffee was—and Danielle remembered that she didn’t even like coffee that much.

Michelle sprung forward and leaned over the table again, grinning, “And spoil this? I fuckin’ love watching you squirm whenever you gotta come up with excuses for this.”

Danielle shook her head and put the coffee down. Grabbing a fork, she sampled some of the apple pie. Her eyes went wide with the explosion of a delightful taste unfolding in her mouth. It obliterated any frustration she felt welling up, pushed back all the complaints she wanted to level at Michelle.

She just chewed and savored the sweet flavor and the silky feel of the pie on her tongue.

Observing Danielle’s face, Michelle’s lips curled into a warm smile. It was untypically warm and gave her a glow—a somewhat surreal appearance. She was fuzzy around the edges and almost translucent as daylight outside the diner grew brighter, and the sun rose.

“I love you, sis’,” said Michelle. “This is gonna be great. We were destined for this. I miss Harry, too. Who knows, maybe he is a ghost, too? Maybe we’ll get to talk to him.”

Danielle swallowed the delicious bite and returned the smile. Genuinely happy that Michelle was still with her. After all these years.

After Michelle had died in the car accident all those years ago.

—Submitted by Wratts

#spoospasu #spookyspaghettisundae #horror #short story #writing #my writing #literature #spooky #fiction #submission #Evergreen #reunion #ghost #mystery #sleuth #detective #Nancy Drew #supernatural #unnatural #possession #snow #isolation #insanity #madness #ghosts #diner #twin #sister #Danielle Witt #unknown armies

[borusawa]

Wishing I Still Had You

She was not ready to accept.

He was not there anymore. Not there when she went training. Not there when she had reunions with their team. Not there, and he would never be there again. She was still trying to accept that, but it wasn’t easy. She lost her childhood friend, her teammate, the person she shared an undeniable bond. Nothing could overcome the pain screaming in her chest. He wouldn’t come back and receiving the news wasn’t even the hard part of it all. Every other thing without him was hard. Knowing he wouldn’t be by her side — again, not that day nor ever — was only the beginning.

It all started and ended on a mission. It was supposed to be C-ranked one. Sarada wasn’t sure how things escalated that way, but Boruto got lost from them during the fight against a group of rogue ninjas.  He never came back then. The rest of team retrieved, not for Sarada’s liking, and notified the Hokage about his son gone missing. Sarada never gave up on looking for him, even when they tried to say that he was definitely dead — he was not, he couldn’t possibly leave her alone, he said he would protect her. She went to the funeral but didn’t shed a tear. He was alive, she knew it, but nobody believed her. Every time she said that Boruto was alive people would look down at her in pity, saying it would be better for her just start dealing with it as soon as possible. The coffin never had a corpse, but it had a name. The name of the boy she loved. After years of denial, she knew. Sarada also knew it was too late to love a dead person — it was never a good time to love a dead person.

He had no right to die.

It was hard picking up from where he left things off, however, she was thankful that people gave her time to mourn his “death”. She was at her room, like most times since the funeral. She never cried, — what was the point of crying for someone that was alive? — for she was waiting for his return. She heard a knock and rushed to the window. Of course, nobody was there. Boruto was the only one that used to appear that way and her heart expected him to be there. The knock repeated, and she realized it was only the door.

Sarada sat on her bed. “Come on in.”

Sakura opened the door slowly peering before she entered just to see her daughter staring at her feet. She thought her daughter’s beliefs were normal since she just didn’t want to deal with the loss of a special someone. With measured motions, she got closer and sat in the bed with Sarada.

“How are you doing today?”

The girl raised her sight to her pink-haired mother. The same look full of pity that everyone gave her captured in green eyes. Sarada averted her gaze, she couldn’t believe her own mother saw her like that. “You know, I’m fine as always.”

Sakura sighed. She knew Sarada was not fine. “Do you want to talk?”

“There’s nothing to say.”

After a few moments of silence, Sakura tried again. “Dear…”

“What if you’re right and he’s dead?” Sakura’s eyes widened when Sarada shouted. “How does it makes things better, then?”

Sakura could do nothing more than hug her daughter and when she did, she got surprised that Sarada hugged her back. She found herself even more surprised when she felt the tears pouring through her kid’s eyes. Muffled sniffs and sobs started to leave Sarada’s petite form and Sakura couldn’t avoid her own tears.

“You loved him, didn’t you?”

“I still love him.” That night, Sarada understood she needed to get over it. Nonetheless, love was what Uchihas did best, so she knew she would never stop loving him.

But when things got tough, so did she.

“At the age of fourteen is harder to see things clear”, Sarada got used to give that as an excuse for her behavior back when Boruto died. He was dead, she was sure of it now. Seven years after the incident, the right way to approach the subject with Sarada was not doing it at all. She would always have a soft spot for Boruto, and that was getting in the way of every single relationship she tried to engage. The guys were all nice, they indeed were. They just weren’t him.

Sarada gave up on trying to find a replacement and decided to only pursue her dreams, considering that it was what “he would want her to do” — nobody ever asked about the things she expected him to do, though. She worked four times harder than she used to, becoming Jonin, getting ready to become Hokage one day and achieve her dream — their dream. Her skills were now incomparable to any shinobi in her rank, that’s why she was assigned to an A-ranked mission in a distant village she never heard about before. It didn’t matter, it was only one more mission. She would go to that one alone, receiving strict orders direct from the Hokage.

“Sarada, I hope you understand that we are in a really complicated situation right now. This village is under some kind of mafia command and I want you to recall information for a later mission.” Naruto said from behind his table. His voice and face exhibited both age and tiredness effects. Sarada only nodded. He still resembled his son for her. She imagined how Boruto would look like by then. “You’re going by yourself . Are you okay with that?”

“Sure.” She answered.

Shikamaru handed her a scroll. “You’ll be leaving as soon as possible.” And again, she only nodded.

She was somehow happy that she was alone in that mission. Sometimes, the teamwork simply didn’t go as flawless as it was supposed to be — like it was with him. This assignment also reflected the trust the Hokage had in her. She could not fail.

She wouldn’t fail.

Sarada left Konoha first thing in the morning. The trip to the River village would take her four days in regular pacing, yet she was alone and just wanted to get things done so she made it in one day and a half. Sarada did everything according to the script: she chose a regular place to stay the night, flirted a little with the receptionist, got to her room smiling. All make believe, but all necessary. Her accommodation was the cheapest one, so she was not surprised with how empty it was. She left her things back in the room, and went to a quick walk through the village, seeing that nothing beyond suspicious was happening at daylight, despite the weird glances she got from villagers. Soon, the night fell and she returned to her room.

It was an abnormally cold night, too cold for her liking. She laid down onto the small uncomfortable bed and threw the thin bed sheets over her body. Another mission, another night. In her head, Sarada planned out how she would act the next day, planning to take a visit to a peculiar bar she spotted during her walks that was hiring, making her decide to apply for the job. This mission showed up to be an important achievement for her, and she was not willing to do anything wrong. She needed to do her best for her, her family. For him. Even if he wasn’t there, he was still  a support for her. That was why she did her best every day.

That was why she did all possible to make things right.

Sarada went to the bar after a small breakfast. For some unknown reason, her heartbeat pounded in her whole body. Was that a presage of something bad? She shook it off, never thinking twice. The bar was in a weirdly empty street. Her pace was careful, even though she could blend in the middle of people, it became harder when no one is around. She thought about going back, but why would she go back? She placed a hand in the door and opened it with no caution. A low song played in the background and the sound of glass tinkling could be heard. The counter had a beautiful girl and the bar had only four men inside, one in the corner, and the other three in a table in the center. Sarada got closer to the lady.

“Hello, good morning.  I’m here because I saw you were hiring.”

“Are you here for the job? Good.” The woman smiled, placing her elbows in the counter. Her widened eyes indicated that they were hiring for a long time and no one was interested. “What’s your name?”

“Sayuri.”

“Hi, I’m Naomi. Well, do you have some experience with serving people?” Naomi said.

“Yes.” It was a lie but it couldn’t be hard.

“Okay, you’re hired. There’s no many requirements to work for drunk people. We just need someone to help me when the other worker can’t.”

Sarada smiled a little. That was easy, almost too easy. The man in the corner raised his hand and called the girl, Sarada stood in place momentarily.

Naomi sighed. “Well, can you answer that, Sayuri? Consider this as your training.” Sarada nodded and paced towards the dark corner.

The man kept looking steadily to the bottom of his cup, dark hair covering his face partially. He didn’t look up, not even when Sarada greeted him politely, but he made his request without much further talk. Either way, he didn’t look important for her mission, the men screaming and drinking in the middle of the room were. She came back to the counter and passed the order the other girl.

“Is he a regular?” Sarada asked Naomi.

“The man you just talked?” Sarada nodded, chewing her bottom lip. “Not exactly. He appeared like... last week and he’s been coming here every day since then.”

Sarada was mildly interested in that man and his behavior therefore during the week, she used her free time to investigate him. He did not much daily and his whole routine consisted in waking up, going to the bar, leaving the bar and going back to a small hotel. His habits were making her even more interested in him. Every day, he sat at the same place, required Sayuri, the same drink, the same amount of times: a lot but not enough to get drunk. They bound really quickly, which was good for the mission. However, even when they talked during her work hours, he never shared the things she was willing to know. One day, she decided to see his face, the one he was so constantly hiding behind dark spots in the bar and big coats. At that point, she couldn’t deny the somewhat feelings blowing in her heart towards the mysterious man, but she couldn’t accept them either.

“I want to see your face.” She bravely asked him in the middle of the usual talk without any heads up. His sight remained down.

The guy chuckled. “I know you.”

“Well, I know you know me, we talk every day.” Sarada answered.

“No. I know you, Uchiha Sarada.” The girl’s body tensed and got ready to fight. The guy never shivered. “And I know you’ve been stalking me. Well, you’re stalking me again.” She got even more confused  at every word.

“Who are you?” She whispered. The guy chuckled a little again, running his hands through his dark hair, but when he looked into her eyes, she knew. Those were well-known blue eyes right in front of her.

It felt like life was fooling her.

Even if he had a scar in his right eye and his blond hair was dyed black, she would never forget those eyes even after many years trying. A lonely tear fell from her eye, and her heart was shattered. Sarada wasn’t able to describe the urge she was feeling of either hug him or kill him, not even to understand why she was numb — she waited, he never came back. She turned around and went straight to the back of the bar, followed later on by a hurried Boruto. Their motion called unwanted attention, both from other customers and from Naomi; Sarada got angrier only by seeing that he was right behind her.

“What do you want from me?” She furiously turned to face him, doing her best to hold back the tears while Boruto wasn’t even trying to hide his. He spent all these days waiting and wondering how could he tell her the truth. It turned out he never should.

“I want you.” He said, without thinking twice and looking at her straight into those black eyes.

She shook her head slightly, feeling the tears start to pour like water from an open faucet. “You had me.” She whispered. “You had me, but you chose to never come back.” Sarada took a deep breath. “I don’t want you back in my life now.” That was a lie.

“I just want to talk to you and explain everything.” Boruto never meant to hurt her, but he also never thought they would end up finding each other.

Sarada heard footsteps getting closer and her shinobi instincts told her the mission could be in high danger if she didn’t act fast. With that she opened the closest door, and they shifted inside, closing it softly, and keeping silence while the footsteps could still be heard beyond the door. Sadly for both of them, the room where cleaning material were stored was too small for two people, making them smash close to fit. While the darkness enveloped them, Sarada felt observed and none of them moved nor talked. Of course Boruto didn’t have to say a word to have an effect on her — she knew that, she always knew — but this wasn’t the right time to feel a thing. She needed to avert him at all costs. However, when he simply raised a hand to touch her right arm, she couldn’t avoid anymore — she was not trying anymore.

She was still in love with him after all that happened.

His touch on her skin sent shivers throughout her body,  she bit her lower lip and closed her eyes. He did nothing more than run his fingers down her arm towards her hand, and that touch didn’t last for long. Her heart was betraying her — she wanted his touch longer, she wanted him everywhere — despite her mind was doing the best to keep her standing still.  Sarada was so concentrated in her situation that she totally forgot why she was there in first place; the steps were long gone. Boruto raised his hands once more and soon, Sarada felt his fingers caressing her face, wiping away the tears. She once more did nothing to stop. Seven years and all she wanted was to feel him instead of all the others she felt in frustrating attempts of getting over him, and even if rationally she understood he shouldn’t be forgiven that easily, it was getting harder not to touch him back and push away the desire killing her for so long. She never knew love could hurt this good.

A mistake, that was all it was. A weak moment. Their lips were connected, a passionate, lusty kiss pushing their bodies together, the heat going up abruptly. Committing a mistake had never felt so good. She cried both for sorrow and happiness, his hands traveling her body as if he knew it — he should be there to discover her body before. The same way the kiss started, it finished.

“I want to fix things between us.” Surprised by his words, Sarada retrieved her hands, formerly placed in his hair. They shouldn’t have kissed, they shouldn’t have met again. That should only be a mission.

Sarada took a deep breath to keep more tears from falling. “I don’t even know why I should listen to you. I buried you, you’re dead. You are mistaken if you think forgiveness will come easy.”

“It wouldn’t be you if you just forgave me. I need to tell you the truth.”

Sarada crossed her arms. “Then say it. I’m all ears.”

“Not here. Find me in my hotel lobby in 10 minutes. You know where it is.” Sarada sighed and Boruto moved to open the door.

Her touch stopped him mid way. “First I need a proof you are really Boruto.”

Boruto smiled and Sarada felt the touch of two fingers in her forehead, making her face heat. Not completely satisfied, he got closer and whispered really close to her ear. “Also, that was not our first kiss.” He kissed her cheek softly. “I’ll be waiting for you. Ten minutes.” He went outside first. Sarada was afraid. Her feelings were in the way again, exactly like it happened seven years ago; she was trapped in his incantation, seeing no possible way out.

And maybe this was how things were supposed to be all along.

She was there. Ten minutes later like he said. He was late and this had Boruto written all over it. After five more minutes, dark hair emerged from the stairs, and he waved at her. They went to his room, and he promised it wouldn’t take long. He told her everything indeed while she sat numbly in the bed. Boruto was there in front of her, telling how he escaped that day seven years ago when he found out why the rogue ninjas were attacking them. It had a reason, they wanted the sharingan. Boruto knew that he, as her protector, — he would never forget that promise — needed to stop them. It was a big organization behind that one attack and finally the last arm was about to get down; they were in the command of the small village Sarada was sent to mission. By then, she wondered if it was destiny who forced them to meet or if something she could not describe was working in her favor — their favor — but she could not be more grateful.

Boruto had a plan to come back to the village eventually, but not right away, he needed to be sure everything was safe so, no longer later, they had to say goodbye for the second time when Sarada went back to Konoha. It took four days for her to be home, thinking about how to tell everyone what happened — they would say she was crazy again, wouldn’t they? — all the way, her pace was mostly guided by the slight breeze always present in the Land of Fire.

She was ready to wait.

“I’m serious.”

“You need to rest, it was a long trip.”

“I’m not tired, mama.”

“Have you talked to Naruto already? He would like to know his son is alive.” Sakura did not believe her daughter, memories of the times around Boruto’s death vividly present in her mind.

“I did. He believed me.” Sarada was slightly exasperated by her mother’s reaction. She knew she was not crazy. “Boruto will come back.” With that, she stood up and went to her room.

Sarada couldn’t avoid the tears — all over again, she was reliving things — but then she heard a knock.

“Mama, just leave me alone for a while, please.” She heard the knock a second time and got up to open the door. “Mama, I said…” But no one was there. She froze in place. The third knock was not a surprise.

Sarada hurried to the window, knowing pretty well who was there — who was finally there, like she always needed — and as soon as the curtains were open, they revealed her blond boy smiling at her.

“Sarada, I’m sorry for...” He started.

“Don’t. I am glad you are here right next to me now.” She ended.

When he came back — to her, for her — she knew it’d been worth the wait.

        Special Note: read only the bold parts now.

A/N: This is in the end only because the request give it all away so.. Anyway, I would love a feedback since I want to know your thoughts <3 I’m not a angst writer but I tried  And send me prompts!! so I can disappoint you. I know I forgot to say I’m accepting requests so... I’m saying now, love u all.

Pairings: BoruSara

Beta reader and my baby: @abbypdg

Warnings: too late for this.

Word count:  3,370

Prompt:

#borusara #borusarafics #borusara oneshot #borutoxsarada #boruto uzumaki #boruto naruto next generations #sarada uchiha #sarada #boruto #naruto next generation #fanfiction #angst #oneshot #one shot #guys forgive me pls

[beanarie]

past & pending 3, chapter 2

Welcome to the McGraw-Hamilton Bed and Breakfast, where no one ever calls ahead for reservations. the rest of the series (post-finale, everyone’s in love) is here, the previous chapter, where--spoiler alert!--thomas and flint just learned that madi has a girlfriend, is here

~

“We thought her distress was over you,” Thomas confides.

Silver’s smile is bitter and, frankly, more than slightly annoying. “Oh, it’s never about me.”

Thomas frowns at the trees. He loses all patience in the face of self pity. Despite not being well acquainted with Madi, he knows James is of the belief that she loves Silver, or, rather, that she did at one time. The rest, as they have well established, was his own fault.

“Allow me an uncomfortable question?”

A heavy silence follows. “Go on,” Silver says.

“Is there anything tying you to her, save penance, and, of course, the dogged hope of eventual absolution and a return to how things were?” Silver’s wide eyes are a response. They are not, however, an answer. “I ask in all sincerity. Confirmation that you are not consumed with flagellating yourself every time you leave here would be appreciated, especially given the ready alternative.”

Someone should lance this boil, incontrovertibly disabuse Silver of the notion that existing as someone’s sun, moon, and stars is the only way to be happy. The awareness of his own position prevents Thomas from making the attempt. He would offer the corpses James created in his name if he could. Being an ignoble villain himself, Silver would appreciate them more.

The house now in sight, Seydou takes off at a run, little Felix at his heels. Thomas runs a thumb across  the patchy stubble on Silver’s jaw. “I miss the beard,” he says longingly, trying to impart the fondness that threatens to overtake him with tone and context rather than explicit words. “Refrain from shaving for the rest of your stay, hm? Consider it payment for the room and board.”

Thomas takes a step forward, but Silver’s fingers wrap around his upper arm, keeping him from taking another. He noses the back of Thomas’s neck and breathes in deeply. Well. Fuck subtle. Before Silver can disengage, Thomas spins on his heel. Silver’s mouth lets out a quiet huff of surprise before Thomas claims it for his own.

“The boys?” Thomas whispers urgently.

Silver’s wild eyes stray from his for mere seconds. “Inside.”

"Understand,” Thomas says, pressing a kiss to Silver’s throat. Yes, unsurprisingly, the man could do with a wash. That’s fine. “It is not that I lack the ability to control myself. I merely see no point in doing so."

The eyes he raises his head to see ask a very clear question. Why? “You know, I used to hear stories on the plantation. We weren’t permitted news of the outside world but I-“

“You had your ways”

“I did.” He tugs the hem of Silver’s shirt free of his trousers. Silver does the same to his. “I knew of Captain Flint, scourge of the new world, years before I knew it was my James they spoke of.”

“It wasn’t wholly outside the realm of plausibility. James, James can be terrifying. Did you know he took me to a hanging on our first outing together?”

“But what of Long John Silver, the only man he was said to fear?” “Many an hour I whiled away forming an image of you in my mind.”

Despite how far they’ve gone already, Silver’s expression is shuttered, like he doesn’t dare to accept what is on offer. “You talk too much.”

“And most days you spend too much time in the brambles of this mind to provide any semblance of worthwhile conversation. Will that be changing? We are all reasonably certain at this point James will not draw and quarter you for your transgressions.”

“That... was never a concern.”

He pulls a few of the hairs in the path from Silver’s stomach to his groin, causing a yelp Thomas will remember for quite a few nights to come. “Do not lie to me, John Silver. I’ve a keen mind and I have suffered. I could plot retribution the likes of which you could never conceive.”

He uses his thumb to breach the waistband of Silver’s trousers and press into the muscle underneath the sharp jut of hipbone. The body under his hands shivers. "Were it not for the myriad complications present at the moment, I would have you, right here, just like this. What say you to that?"

A slight laugh, a thin sliver of a cheeky grin.  "What complications?"

“Villain.” Thomas smiles against Silver’s lips and swallows whatever response he would have gotten. This, at least, they can do without consulting a committee.

~

The bedroom door swings open at the same time as Thomas pokes his head in to say, "Oh, excellent. You're here. Come, villain. We have our quorum. We'll get our resolution and everyone will be much happier for it."

James nearly drops the shirt he's holding at the sound of that word coming out of Thomas's mouth, but then Silver hobbles in close behind, grumbling good-naturedly. "Is that to be my name now?"

Unruffled, Thomas smiles like he owns a secret. "Tell me it bothers you and I'll stop forever."

A very pointed silence reigns for a long moment. James ignores them until the spare clothes to donate to their guests are in a neatly folded stack. "You had some sort of agenda," he prompts.

"Surely you can guess," Thomas says.

James turns to address them. "Of course I could. But Silver is changing color and I'd to see how much closer to red he can get."

Thomas laughs and sits on the bed, jostling the stack of clothing but not tipping it over. Silver screws up his face in a futile effort to change his current complexion. "Fuck you both."

"There it is." Thomas winds an arm around James's waist. "Would you prefer a statement with fewer words?"

Allowing Thomas to get closer does not mean James agrees. "You've both had too much time in the sun and not enough water. His wife is a guest in our home."

"Not my wife." Silver looks down at his foot. "That- that was only ever an idea. A hope. And now we are... friends. Maybe, if I'm being generous. Anyway, she gave me her explicit blessing."

James looks at Thomas, who looks back at him, equally silently.

Silver sighs, drumming his fingers on his crutch. "You may have noticed she has taken up with a woman."

"So taking this step." James gestures to take in the three of them. "Now, under these conditions, would be your retribution?"

"What? No. We spoke candidly on what occurred during my months-long absence from her."

"You confessed everything?" James asks. So far Thomas has kept his opinions to himself. It will be interesting to see how long he is content to observe before deciding James and Silver cannot work this out between the two of them.

"She wanted to know what purpose I served here for so long," Silver says, meaning no, he did not inform her about his illness. "How you were able to allow me to linger after all that I had done, to you both. And I..." He lifts his chin, resolute. "I told her I love you."

Abandoning Thomas and the stack of clothes on the bed, James approaches a noticeably unmoving Silver. He leans in, gaze fixed on Silver's mouth. "Is that what you told her?" he says. He lays a hand on Silver's neck, his thumb sweeping over the point of his pulse.

Silver hums, flush still high on his cheeks. "It's the truth." He slumps forward slightly into James's touch. This happens every time. Touch Silver with even a hint of affection and he goes pliant and greedy like one of his barn cats.

James grins as he traces the underside of Silver's bottom lip. "That explains why you wanted to stay, not why we let you."

"Feel free to elaborate," Silver says. "I've already gotten Thomas's side of things."

From the other side of the room, Thomas laughs in a way that people who aren't James don't get to hear.

Good thing the chores are done for the morning and no one inside this room is responsible for preparing the next meal. All they have to do for the next few hours is work up an appetite.

~

The entertainment at midday consists of the younger boys bragging about their contributions to the repast.

"I'm just proud you didn't push each other into the water," Obi says. "I fully expected at least one of you to return soaking wet."

Madi, seated as far from Esther as their circumstances allow, lets her gaze flick toward each of the white men in a knowing matter. Being who she is, she's quite subtle, but James sees. She says, however, nothing, apparently content to help Khanyi pick out the stray bones left in her fish.

Possibly he is being paranoid.

~ Old remembered terrors force Flint out of a sound sleep, heart hammering, thundering, and eyes completely incapable of recognizing his surroundings. It’s too dark, it’s too dark. There are enemies about and he can’t remember who was assigned lookout.

“James,” says a voice that doesn't belong.

“Love."

"It’s all right."

"You're home safe."

"Everything is fine.”

A melody sinks into the bits of silence. Humming. Flint latches on, his breath coming easier, and he lays his head back down.

His traitorous mind refuses to rest, linking the tune to something he used to hear on piano. He thinks of Miranda, walking off to leave him in bed struggling with his ghosts, until the strains of her playing from another room remind him where he is. He thinks of her dry fingertips against his cheek as he would finally drift off to proper sleep. That tiny pull of a smile on one side of her face that signaled the end of an argument. The quizzical rosebud of her mouth when she read something she found deeply fascinating.

No one is touching him, but James can feel body heat creeping in on all sides and he can’t handle it. Reality is both too much and not enough. “Shut up,” he says, rubbing at his eyes, willing his mind to stop reeling. “Both of you.”

Silver rolls onto his side as though he's been out this whole time. James runs a hand lightly down Silver's back, and rises from the bed.

So many people between these walls. She should be here, too. She deserves to be here.

He can feel at least one pair of eyes following his progress, so he says, "We need firewood. And well water."

"Let him go be productive," Thomas orders Silver, just loud enough for his voice to carry. "I fucking abhor chopping firewood."

#black sails #black sails fic #silverflinthamilton #past and pending #my writing #things by beanarie

[iamsoneurotic]

Enter, Levi: The Final Chapter Part II

8 Months later is better than never I guess.

I had intended to write a second post about Levi’s birth (as I did with both Milo and Noli), but as it turns out, free time isn’t really a thing when you have 3 kids. Go figure. Anyway, where did I leave off… The boy was born.

The C-section left Rachael bedridden for the duration of our stay at the hospital, which is pretty typical. From what I’ve been told, it’s not so bad - the doctors load you up with pain meds and you’re out the door in a couple of days, ready to take on the world with a baby in one hand and a bottle full of pills in the other. Well, due to an allergy to Ibuprofen, Rach was denied the good drugs and had to settle for a less effective Tylenol substitute which may have been less effective than somebody flicking her in the ear to distract her from the pain in her healing wound. To make matters even worse, she was fighting a horrible cough and every hack of the lung made her feel like she was being gutted like a fish.

As sort of an icing on the crap cake, her IV slipped out of her vein at some point during the first night and caused her arm to swell and rash. Her stay was divine to say the least.

Speaking of crap cakes, guess who was on diaper duty by default! Well that’s nothing new, I’m usually on diaper duty just because my lovely wife secretly loathes me (we have a dog now, by the way. Guess who gets the honor of cleaning up his little backyard nuggets). This particular series of diaper changes, however, stands out more than the others because Levi pooped a mountain’s worth over the next few weeks. Not exaggerating. He went through every phase on the newborn poo color wheel in a matter of hours. Something was clearly afoot, I’ve been around this whole breastfeeding business for a while now and I know for a fact he was exporting more than he was taking in. Pretty sure milk doesn’t have corn in it either.

There’s a video of his first changing… I can’t even post it. It’s just that awful. I don’t even know why we would have filmed something like that in the first place.

One last poo item to discuss - there was one nurse who was a complete POS. Her shift consisted of coldly telling Rachael to suck it up and walk so they could discharge us and berating her about everything she did ranging from how she breastfed Levi to, I don’t know, the way she wore her hair that day. She was a real piece of work. Not sure if there’s a polite way to wish Ebola on somebody, but I’m all ears.

There was a bright side to Rachael being confined to her bed, it meant I got more time to hold Levi. Given the stress of his birth, I had no desire to ever put him down - thank goodness he only weighed a little over 6lbs, our lightest one yet!

I noticed while holding him that he bore a striking resemblance to Don Rickles.

Leading up to the birth, I had “joked” that I was looking forward to the time away from the kids while we stayed at the hospital. I was wrong, I missed my babies. Before we had left, Noli was really upset that we were leaving him - that image of him sitting on the steps broken hearted was burned into my brain the whole visit. Milo didn’t seem to care much, he gets away with more when daddy’s not home (Noli was yet to figure this out). So after 2 days of not showering, Rachael approved of my release so I could go home, see the boys, scrub the thin layer of Italian grease off of my flesh, and let her mom see the baby for a while.

It was a nice little visit. The boys and I wrestled, built Legos, and I showed them pictures of the baby. Noli was needier than usual and didn’t like that I had to leave again to go back to the hospital, luckily my mom stopped by to take the boys to her place so I could catch a break for a few… For the record, however, I didn’t take a break for fear that Rachael would sense my relaxation and unleash the hordes of hell upon me.

Advice for any new dads out there: NEVER enjoy yourself while your wife is in pain or holding a child. Don’t close your eyes, don’t smile, don’t sit comfortably in a chair, and if you absolutely HAVE to eat, make sure the food gives you indigestion… But not diarrhea, because woman have figured out that bathrooms are a man’s place of peace. There can be no peace.

…

I’m literally not kidding.

Long story short - she thought I was gone too long and as penance, I bought her Pei Wei and she reluctantly showed mercy.

I screwed a number of things up with this birth. First was posting Levi’s picture to Facebook before Rachael had even seen him, second was having the audacity to take a shower at our house, and the third thing happened after being discharged from the hospital. When we got home, I rushed the baby into the house so he wouldn’t get cold. Inside the house my parents were waiting with cameras to film the boys’ reaction to the new addition. Well, in my haste, I failed to wait for Rachael (who was hobbling up the sidewalk in excruciating c-section pain) - depriving her of the opportunity to see the boys’ reaction live. I’m currently serving a life sentence in the doghouse for my foolish ways.

All screw-ups aside, the evening went well. Noli, who we were most nervous about adjusting to a newborn, held the baby in his lap (with heavy amounts of assistance). It was a giant relief. Milo loved the kid at first sight, 8 months later he’s still in love with the little guy… I’m a proud dad. My parents went home, Rach attempted sleep, and late that evening I wrote  “Enter, Levi: The Final Chapter Part I”. A masterpiece in biographical storytelling.

For the next few days Rachael was stuck sleeping on the couch until her incision healed more; getting out of bed was too painful. So we spent our evenings watching the Winter Olympics while Levi slept on our chests. In the mornings my mother-in-law would treat us to fresh grapefruit & oatmeal breakfasts and I would grab us Starbucks on the way back from dropping the boys off at school. It was a really nice couple of days… I even finally buckled down and got my Texas Driver’s License! Only took me 3 years to make the effort.

We nicknamed Levi “Popeye” because he would always wink his one eye and make scrunchy faces. In retrospect, I should have thought to tape a little pipe to his pacifier. Dangit! During this time, I discovered that the sound of a crying baby isn’t as horrific sounding as it had been in the past. Milo’s cries would send me into a panic, and Noli’s would just irritate me… I find Levi’s cries on the adorable end of the spectrum. It’s probably because this will be our last kid (assuming all goes according to plan). I’m taking in the infancy more, trying to make it last and enjoy every moment. Sure, I still get frustrated - that’s what babies do to you, but I’m enjoying the ride more… I know I’ll miss it. I still wish I could pull baby Milo out of the photos on my phone and hold him.

If I’m not writing a ton about Levi in this post, it’s because the kid was just so darn chill as a newborn. He didn’t give me much more material than “Awww, how cute”... And he was definitely cute (still is - all my babies are).

While both boys were great with Levi, Noli had gotten increasingly needy. I’m not going to lie, it was downright infuriating sometimes to deal with it. I took him out one day to give him some one on one time, the plan was to buy him a ‘gift from Levi’. I told him Levi gave me money to buy him a toy (kids are so gullible!)... I should have specified how much money Levi actually gave me because $60 later we had a brand new Lego Spiderman play set which took me an hour to build and only 10 seconds for Noli to destroy. 10 glorious seconds of him leaving me alone.

The nightmare was only beginning.

Rachael’s mom had stuck around for a few weeks to help out around the house while we got acclimated to all the changes. The hope was that anything that could have gone wrong would have gone wrong while she was here and we’d have the extra hands… But Murphy’s Law is real, kids. Thanks to the joys of school, Noli came down with the flu a day or two before my mother-in-law was leaving. Just the thing you want around a newborn! And there would be no extra hands. Before we even got home from the hospital, Rach began packing her bags to stay with my folks until our house was no longer contaminated with disgusting little boy germs (Milo was beginning to run a fever as well).

Rachael and Levi staying with my parents didn’t ease my worries, however. The boys are constantly sticking their grubby little fingers all over my face (why their fingers are always moist I’ll never understand). The fingers occasionally go in my mouth because kids are weird and have no boundaries. That mouth is incapable of not being on baby Levi’s face… Because those cheeks. All I could think was that I had given my newborn baby boy the flu and it was an awful feeling. I had shown no signs of having the flu, but it takes a few days before symptoms even start, so everything was up in the air… Just like the flu running rampant in my house. It was a waiting game and I hate waiting.

So it was me, the boys and my mother-in-law, and I only had her help for about two days before she had to go back home. Thank God for moms is all I have to say. She made sure we all took everything we needed, when we needed to take it, and I’m pretty sure she kept me flu-free, because (spoiler) I never caught it and luckily neither did Rach or Levi.

Those few days, however, were difficult for an entirely non-flu-related reason… Needy Noli. By this point he had already been driving me nuts with the constant need for attention, but the flu just made it worse. Today I was looking through the texts Rachael and I were sending each other and every other message was me going out of my mind while Noli stalked me around the house. It was like one of those dreams where you’re being chased by some unknown entity and it always finds you no matter where you hide. You’d think the flu would have destroyed his sense of smell, but somehow it was heightened. There was no escape.

All he wanted was to play legos… Legos which by now were CRAWLING with flu germs. Every click those blocks made when I connected them was like the empty click of a revolver in a deadly game of Russian Roulette. Sitting in that pool of Legos (we have a LOT of Legos) was like swimming in a pool of flu-juice. I swear some of them were wet.

Then my mother-in-law flew home… and it was just me and the flu-zombies.

Thank goodness for my Dad. He took one for the team and later that evening risked his good health to save me from the inevitable misery that awaited me with those kids. The man is fearless. My memory of that week is a little hazy, but I’m 80% sure he arrived via horse. When he got to the house, he told me to get out and enjoy myself for a few while he spent time with the little petri dishes. Even Noli let me leave the house! So I grabbed my iPad and booked it to Starbucks where I spent the next 2 hours sipping Lattes, drawing, and watching videos of Levi that Rach would send me.

The week was no doubt hard - dodging sneezes, dealing with neediness and the usual parenting frustrations… But the hardest part was being away from Levi. I spent 9 months waiting for the little stinker and barely got to know him before he left me for a week. There was a constant stream of videos and photos coming from Rach, but it only made it harder. There was one evening when Rach stopped by with some food and I snuck out to see her. She had Levi in the van and I had to just stare at him from the window (as I was still unsure if I was sick or not). It was torture.

Rach on the other hand was living the good life at Hotel De’Marianelli with my mom. Pampering, baby assistance, hot meals… and a Boxer who quickly became a therapy dog. When Rach arrived at the house that first night, she was a nervous wreck. She started crying when she came in the door and Roxy (the Boxer) ran up to her, put her head on Rachael’s chest and just stared at her. She’d lick the baby’s feet constantly and anytime Levi woke up from a nap crying, Roxy would book it into the room to check on him.

Dogs are the best. Not to speak ill of the dead, but our cat would have just pee’d on the crib.

Fast forwarding ahead, the boys started feeling better, I never got sick, and seeing as my dad’s work was finished, he went back home… I seem to remember him riding off on a chariot of fire. The details are hazy.

One last thing remained… The disinfecting of the Legos.

20% of them ended up down the drain. I hope they never return.

Finally my baby came home. I refused to let him go that night… Or the next night. If I could lactate, Rach would have never gotten him back.

I make good babies. ~ M.

#parenting #parenthood #dad #daddy #daddyblog #newborn #humor #baby #fatherhood #kids

[backtomylakearearootsstory]

BTMLAR S1E21

[ROUGH DRAFT FROM BOOK]

[“Mid August to Early September, I met a first cousin that I had no idea existed. She’s my aunt’s daughter. I met her by facebook, via my sister’s knowledge of our family history. This summer, we went down to Southwest Louisiana for the first time in a few years. The surpise came to us [via Jameson]nwhen our aunt left us a few things of hers. She left me her old recipes. As a little girl, I took to making dessert. By 10, I was baking cakes and pies. There was a time, when I would sale pies and pastries for extra money for college. It was through Jameson that my sister was informed of relatives in Long Beach. Yvonne and I had a conversation over coffee and that is when I reached out to her. She has three children who are around my childrens age. Her eldest is about three years older then my oldest son. Her youngest and my youngest are like wonder twins! Those two are so much alike that they could’ve been separated at birth. They all get along well but those two are two peas in a pod but I digress. Faye’s story is that she and my aunt moved out here early on and stayed with our relatives in Sacramento. They eventually settled in Long Beach. She’s been in California since she was 10 and was pretty candid about the move. Her and my aunt had been struggling in the Bayou State. In poverty, they kept contact with our cousins in Sacramento. That came in handy with the transition when aunt Clarisse decided it was time for a change. She lived with my mothers cousin in Sacramento while she studied to become a therapist. They eventually settled in Long Beach and have been there sense. It was through Faye that I got a bit of insight as to the dismantling of the family relationships……………..”]

It was an overcast morning as Abram’s last class for the day ended. "Long weekend begins now!" he said as he headed back to his dorm room. As he arrived to his dorm, he noticed that his roommate was already packed and ready to go. "You don't waste any time do you?"

“nope" Ricardo said. “You need to do the same”

After Abram packed, the two of them decided to go to get a bite to eat.

“Let’s go to that taco joint down the road”

“Good idea”

At lunch time, Ricardo has loaded his taco salad with shredded cheese, sour cream, guacamole, and pinto beans. 

Ricky wasn’t naive to Louisiana culture. His dads people were from the St. Charles Parish and his great grandmother arrived in LA during the 50s. His complexion could be described as light tan color with fine hair. As there food arrived, they figured they had about an hour to eat and gather their bags. 

After a response confirming the message he called the Uber. After eating, the pair waited outside for 15 minutes before Uber arrived. After returning to the dorm, Abram grabbed his MP3 player, his suitcase, and his phone charger and the two headed out. Once their ride arrived, they wasted no time. Stopping for gas only once. Their trip ended in LA a quarter after 6:00. They arrived at Abe’s house around 7:00pm. Yvonne was looking out of the kitchen window at the time. Surprised, she happily walked out and hugged her son. 

They sat for a bit with Yvonne at the kitchen counter making small talk. Wanting to know Ricardo a bit better she asked him his major

As they were carrying on their conversation, Zach and Phil returned with the food. Phil being caught off guard blinked momentarily before realizing that his son was in from college.

After they ate, Ricardo decided that he needed to let his parents know that he was in town. “I’m gonna head out” he said shook Phil and Zach’s hands. I’ll see you all tomorrow, if that’s okay”. “Sure” Yvonne said as Abram walked him out. After watching him exit the driveway, Abe decided to put his bag in his room before talking with his parents. 

Later that night after everyone had showered and Abram got comfortable in his room, Phil knocked on the door. “Come on in” Abe said as he closed his laptop. “Hey son, you settled in?” “Sure did”-Abram responded. Abram hadn’t seem his bed since June, not to mention he missed the Privacy that this bedroom allowed him versus the dorm room where his bedroom was the size of a shoe box and the walls were paper thin. He couldn’t have a phone conversation w/o someone banging through the doors. Masturbation or sex was out of the question.

Abe is kind of a homebody, just the fact that he went away for college is a surprise. Granted it’s about six hours away. He spent the rest of his night watching movies on his laptop before dozing off. Yvonne went to his room and cut the light off, leaving the door slightly open when she left. He got up around 1:00 am to get a cup of water before going to back to bed. Around 9:00 am, he woke up and met Yvonne on the porch. “What’s on your agenda today?” she asked.

“I’m gonna get in my car and ride! Haven’t had my car in months! I’m having lunch with a buddy and then going to get home in time to help you get ready for company tonight.”

“Be careful out there, traffic’s been nuts and police are everywhere”

“Duly noted”

He ate breakfast before taking a short run. Upon his return, he took a shower and got dressed. His outfit consisted of a pair of dark khaki shorts, an orange polo and a pair of Sperry shoes. He sat at the house for a couple of hours and talked with his mom about school and what he’d like to do when he got out. He expressed concerns about the job market when he got out and the worth of his bachelor’s degree. He got in his car for the first time in months and turned the engine on, letting the car warm up for about five minutes before taking off.  He plugged his iPod in, turned the air on savoring the ride anticipating the freedom once he would be able to bring his car on campus. He met Ricardo and Vincent downtown where they’d eat lunch.

“I’m in the mood for a burger” Vincent said

“How about that grill over there?” Abe said, reminding them that he didn’t want to overdo it as he would be eating with family tonight. They walked to the grill, being relatively early, they had no trouble getting a table. Abe ordered the smoked turkey sandwich before breaking the ice for table talk.

Back home, Phil and Quincy were preparing supper. They decided to put steak and chicken on the pit with mashed potatoes a garden salad. Deja made a confetti cake and as well as a chocolate cake.

“So how you cooking those steaks” Quincy asked.

“Medium well” Phil said.

Phil managed to get a good deal from the newspaper. Abram was rather simply to please. A good steak or Mexican food was always a preference of his.

“So Abe liking college so far?”

“Yeah, so far so good. He says he gets along with his roommate”

“Has he picked a major?”

“Not yet, but he was talking about Business”

“Good deal”

“Man what about you? What’s the job search like now?”

“I do a little merchandising, picked up some work mystery shopping now.”

“Any bites?”

“Talking to someone in the hospital about possibly clerking”

Quincy decided to go in the house and get a beer as Phil flipped the steaks. As he came back outside to resume the conversation, Phil asked how that connection came to be about.

“Well going to the VA office to fill out some paperwork initially I spoke with a woman who works as a janitor in the evenings. She put in a word at the hospital she cleans at. Call was unexpected”.

He got a text as he was talking “gotta take this”

He called and it was the woman from the hospital. “Uh huh, yes. Okay. Thank you”

He called Deja, “I got a job”

“I’ll start In a week, lady told me that if I want it it’s mine. So there you have it”

“That’s great babe”

“Well it’ll be something until I can get a better paying one. Anyway I’m gonna go pick up the kids. You heard from your sister?”

“Yep she’s in San Francisco, they’ll be here in a couple of hours”

Quincy left the house to get the kids from school. He dreaded the long line that he’d encounter due to the time he left. After picking up the children, he returned to Phil’s house around 4:00 PM. Zach had managed to hitchhike a ride from a friend in P.E.

“Hey pop”

“Good evening son, how was have a good day at school?”

“It was okay I guess, got a current event assignment in Geography. Due Tuesday”

While Phil was making small talk with Zach,Quincy made the revelation that he just secured employment.

“Good deal”

“Well I’m gonna go to my room for a bit.”

“Company’s coming at 5”

“I know, I remember”

In his room, Zach decided to put together a playlist and crank out the music for a bit before Faye arrived. He returned outdoors later on to help Faye with some items in her car. Quincy said. Ian and Malachi caught up over the last couple weeks with Zach, while Junior and Darius went inside for a bit. Abram, Ricardo, and Vince were sitting on the sofa as the company while company begin to arrive. Walking outside, Abram noticed some unfamiliar faces. 

“Hey Abe, this is your mother’s cousin”

“Hi, cousin Faye”

“Abram”

“You doing okay?”

“Yes ma’am”

“It’s nice to finally put a face. Your mama has been talking about you for the last two weeks”

“Good right?”

The boys were on the porch where Ian asked “is that our cousin?”

“Yea that’s Abe” Zach said

“Howdy Howdy!” Abe said to Malachi as he walked up. After greeting Malachi with a handshake and a hug, Ian introduced himself.

“How’s it going man?”

“Good” 

“So how are y’all  related to us?”

“Our mom and your mom are first cousins”

“This is going to be an interesting conversation later, but nice to meet you”

“I have two sisters and a brother, they’re inside”

“QJ’s inside too” Malachi interjected. Abram went inside, to get a soda and say hello.

”Junior! Whats up?” 

“Hey Aundrea” he said followed by a hug, before introducing himself to the other three “I’m Abram”

"Nice to meet you three. Ricky and Vincent”

“Hi”

He then washed his hands and decided to grab a Dr. Pepper. “We’ll probably be eating in a little bit”

“Good!” QJ exclaimed “I’m starving”

After the rest of the company arrived and welcomed Abram home, there was a prayer, and then the meal was served. Steak, chicken, potatoes, salad and two desserts to choose from. 

“Y’all remember that ice cream machine that uncle Pete used to have?” Faye asked. 

“Yeah, he normally used that around summer time. He’d use a little ice, milk, almond oil. The texture was kind of funny. Almost like a sorbet” Yvonne laughed. 

The evening was filled with laughs and eats. Abe was pretty simple to please. Food, snacks, kids hanging out. After the kids ate, they decided to take a walk. 

“I’ll go with them” Abe said. “Come on yall”

After the kids and teens left, Deja asked about  the relatives in Sacramento. “We’re trying to get around to meeting them in the next few months”. Clarissa said.

15 minutes later, the kids were in the front yard with two cop cars following closely behind them. “Is everything okay?” A concerned Quincy asked. “We received a complaint about a suspicious group of black kids roaming the streets” the officer said. “No, this is my son and his friends. These are my nieces and nephews”.  He then instructed them to go back to the backyard. Quincy stood out there with the officers and explained that his nephew was in town for the weekend. “I’m glad that you allowed them to prove themselves instead of taking matters into your own hands. Thank you officer”

Inside the Malachi and Aundrea were sitting down Yvonne and Abe cane in. “I’m glad that you all made it home. This situation could have ended completely different. I dream of a time when this won’t be an problem. Maybe in the year 3000 when we are all the color of a brown paperback, that will be so. In the meantime, we have to continue to h e these talks with you. We’d be doing a disservice otherwise. I wouldn’t instruct you to behave any differently. Don’t make any sudden movements. You should be almost motionless. Abe, I’m telling this to you too when you’re out there in San Francisco. Y’all can go back outsid now, go get a piece of cake.”

Ricardo and Vincent decided to eat a piece of cake and head home. 

“I’m gonna drop them home and I’ll be back” Abe said.

The ride was relatively quiet, “y’all okay?”

“Yeah, I’m Good” Vincent affirmed

“How about your cousins?” Ricardo added. Abram assured them that all was well, but he did say that his mom informed him of the possibility of this happening. She even gave me a lecture before I went on my run this morning. After dropping Ricardo off, he brought Vincent home. He greeted his parents as he haven’t seen them in a while and wanted to touch bases. He stayed for about 1/2 hour before ending his night back home.

He returned home where everyone had come inside for the evening. “Did you have a good time?” Deja asked

“Yes I did, thank you”. He enjoyed tonight despite the incident. He then joined them on a watching television show 

“Is everyone else alright?”

“Yes son, all’s good” 

Miriam drove up and as she went to the kitchen to fix a plate, Abe told her “You missed some crazy stuff today”

TO BE CONTINUED WITH EPISODE 22