#my grandpa picked it up off the floor thinking it was a normal pen but i have it now

[karda]

karda u seem to lose ur stylus a lot

speaking of which, what kind of stylus do u use? :D I have an apple penciI :]

also have a good day/night!!

YEAH i lose everything unless it is not tied to my body this is why i keep my earbuds plugged in constantly and am trying to figure out a keychain situation for my stylus.. which is a ball point pen i tore apart and stuck an lg stylo stylus in

#its so scuffed but it Works #i found my stylus btw #my grandpa picked it up off the floor thinking it was a normal pen but i have it now #u have a good day too !!! ty !! #asks

[theotherackerman]

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

Summary: Historia Reiss could not have approached Mikasa Ackerman with the idea of joining a band at a better time. After a falling out with Armin Arlert and Eren Jaeger, Mikasa decides to take her up on her offer joining alongside Ymir Langnar (bassist), Sasha Blouse (drummer), and Annie Leonhart (guitarist). With their new keyboard player and lyricist, they set off on a journey that takes them away from their hometown. After winning battle of the bands, they score a record deal. As they set to record their first album, their past begins to catch up to them.

RATING: MATURE

Ships:  Mikasa/Eren, Historia/Ymir, Levi/Hange, Armin/Annie, Pieck/Jean

Other Tags:    Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, girls supporting girls, Alternate Universe, music inspired, their friendship is super important

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: Any recognizable elements belong to Attack on Titan.

NOTES: December 26th

PROLOGUE: TIS THE DAMN SEASON

Somehow watching Star Wars the day after Christmas had become a tradition for Eren, Armin, and Mikasa.Maybe it was because Christmas was rough for all of them. So they had made their own little tradition.

It had started in high school when Armin and Eren were in complete disbelief that Mikasa had n ever seen Star Wars. They had just exchanged gifts including a book Armin received from Eren about the special effects in Star Wars.

“How can you have never seen Star Wars? Didn’t we watch it with you when we were younger?” Eren asked her as he picked up wrapping paper from the floor.

Mikasa simply shook her head.

“Well we’ve got to change that. Armin, you still have the dvds?”

“Of course, I do. I’m not going to get rid of Star Wars.”

“Right, right. You think grandpa would care if we came over tomorrow?”

“Hey, what if I have plans tomorrow?” Mikasa asked.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?” Armin turned his head to the side.

“Well no...but..”

“Okay, great. So tomorrow at Armin’s place.”

And that’s how it had started. Mikasa wasn’t sure if she actually liked Star Wars or if she just loved her two best friend’s reactions to it. Armin and Eren performed their favorite lines as they watched. One time they had bought shitty cheap lightsabers to have a battle one year which resulted in both Eren and Armin getting a black eye.

The venue changed frequently, a different person hosting each year. No matter how bad things got, how many family members died, none of that matter.

Because every December 26th, it was time for them to settle in front of the tv and watch Star Wars.

Until this year.

This year, there was no settling in front of a tv.

There was no exchanging of gifts.

This year, there was radio silence between the three of them.

All because of what had happened last year. It was New Year’s Eve. Armin, Eren, and Mikasa had gathered together. Mikasa had her father’s ring. She was going to ask Eren to marry her.

She was kneeling in the kitchen but Eren’s eyes were numb.

"I'm just going to be honest with you, Mikasa. I just dated you so I could know what it was like to fuck you. And I have to say, you're as good as I'd thought you'd be. But now  I'm done with this. You're just a slave who does what everyone else wants them to do. A people pleaser. I can't be with someone like that."

"Eren…" her voice cracked.

"I've always hated you, Mikasa."

BAM!

There was a connection of a fist to Eren's jaw. He stumbled back.

"How dare you say those things to her!" Armin yelled at him. Eren swung at Armin, hitting him. Armin punched Eren again. 

Mikasa pulled Armin off of Eren and shoved him to the other side of the kitchen. 

 "I don't need you defending me!" She screamed.

And then Mikasa ran from the house.

And Eren spat blood.

And Armin disappeared from the house

But the box holding Mikasa's dad's ring sat on the table all the same.

Mikasa sat in her room, watching the steam rising off of her cup of tea. Her book of lyrics sat in front of her.

She wondered about Armin and Eren. How were they doing? Were they coping okay with Eren’s father dying last year…..No.

She took a deep breath as she looked at the blank page in front of her.

She and Historia had written thirty six songs as options for the new album but that didn’t matter.

She had to keep writing. It was a way out of her head while still coping with everything.

If she wrote, she didn’t have to think about her dead parents, Armin’s dead parents, or Eren’s dead parents. She didn’t have to think about Armin’s grandfather dying earlier this year and how Armin had to be alone this year. She didn’t have to think about Ymir and Historia still fighting and what that meant for the band. What did that mean for the band?

Write.

Just write.

She took a deep breath.

Just as she was about to write, there was a knock on the front door.

She could hear Levi talking to someone.

Was it his partner?

She wasn’t sure.

She was stalling.

She needed to focus on writing.

The door to her room opened. Only one person didn’t knock when they came over so she didn’t bother to look behind her. The thud sound of someone falling onto her bed and the smell of whiskey only confirmed what she already knew.

“Things didn’t go well?” Mikasa asked, now she was really stalling.

“Oh no, things went fucking great. Can’t you tell?” Ymir’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “I went to get drinks with her sister and her. Her sister hates me. She thinks Historia can do better.”

“Did she say that?”

“No. She just...I don’t know. I think Historia told Frieda what happened last week. Maybe, maybe she’s right. Maybe Historia is better off with someone like Reiner or that farm boy…”

Mikasa put her pen down before turning around.

“You and I both know you don’t mean that. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. I’ve never seen you feel sorry for yourself before. What did you say to me when all that happened? Pull yourself together. Fuck her sister. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is your feelings and Historia’s. Fuck everyone else.”

“I think I said fuck a few more times in there.”

Mikasa nodded before she turned back around.

It was a strange friendship they had.

It had started due to the fact that Historia and Eren were normally nominated for king and queen of the high school dances. Since they could not dance with who they wanted to, they ended up dancing with one another.

Then Historia had come up with this idea for a band. An idea that would cement Ymir and Mikasa’s friendship.

A knock came from the front door again.

“Mikasa!” Levi yelled from downstairs.

She looked over at Ymir. The other girl was currently wrapping herself up in Mikasa’s blankets. No one outside the band and Levi knew that Mikasa was back in town for the holidays.

“Mikasa!” She heard him yell again.

She took a deep breath before she left her room. Eren couldn’t be here. He didn’t know. Not to mention he probably never wanted to talk to her again just like she didn’t want to face him again. If he was here, she’d….

She’d do something.

“Sign the delivery paper so this man can do away,” Levi gestured to the man holding a box and a scanner.

“I told you, sir, it can only be signed by..”

“I don’t care.”

Mikasa signed the paper, the man handed over the package, and Mikasa closed the door. She pulled the tab to open the cardboard box. Inside she found a smaller box. She dropped the cardboard box. She didn’t open the smaller box.

She already knew what was inside and who had sent it.

“What is that?”

“My father’s ring. He returned it.” She held the box out to Levi who stared at her for a moment. “Keep it safe for me, will you?”

The older Ackerman just nodded. Mikasa picked up the cardboard box off of the floor and threw it into the trash. She didn’t notice the letter inside that had floated to the floor. Levi would find it hours later.

#mmtylif #my writing

[elistariel]

I'm bored off my ass, so here's what going on in my life as of Sunday, September 27, 2020 at 11:44 pm.

- Still working from "home." (Grandparents' house, but close enough 🤷🏻‍♀️).

- work finally picked back up, I had been working one to two days (3-6 hours) a week due to cancellations and whatever else. I managed to get 20 hours this week.

- Herman, my cat has been less than helpful. Nothing like being tethered to your laptop by your headset and your cat decides to start clawing the furniture and you cannot reach him. I'm pretty sure they call monitors that still have to listen to us are getting a great kick of me yelling at my cat between phone calls. "Stop licking the floor you weirdo!" must be a favorite by now. I'm still waiting for him to loudly MEOW right into the microphone as I'm doing a survey.

- one of my great aunts (in her 90s) passed away. She had been declining for a while for a while. Not to be Debbie Downer, but her husband and one of her sisters don't seem far behind. (Maybe a few years at best 🤷🏻‍♀️). It's weird, in a a way, to see people you saw as the grown-ups, those who knew how to handle everything and knew what was what - get OLD. It puts a certain perspective on where you and those closest to you are in life. One day, everyone you looked up to, everyone you looked to for advice, will be gone. (Not literally, there will technically be experts the same age and younger, but hopefully you get my meaning there).

- We had been cleaning out my great grandma's house. (She's still around, just old, nearly blind, dementia and in facility.) Still have a metric fuckton to go through. So. Many. Photos and cards and clothes and pens and buttons and porn and scarves and coat hangers and obituaries and notes in phone books from 1997...

- No, you didn't need to do the double take on that list. I said porn. Nothing like finding your great grandpa's VHS porn stash. I loved how he had his porn in the living room TV cabinet, but had the box of home movies (birthdays, beach trips and Christmas under the bed.) My Pa was a WWII vet who died in 2005.

- Been trying to finally organize Christmas photos from at least 1995 on up into albums. I have earlier, but with the amount of photos I have and the types of photo albums I have the 1995 ones were just a good place to start.

- Wasn't exactly sure what year some of the Christmas photos were taken, so I figured out some tricks to use when trying to date photos. Just so we are clear, this is for actual paper photos. I mean I guess this could work for digital photos too, but with this I was working with the actual paper photos like from the 35mm film that we used to use way back in the day. Also I have a large extended family.

1.) Babies. My older cousins had their babies between 1996 and 2003. I was looking to see which of my younger cousins were in the photos. One baby? 1996 or 1997. Two babies? 1998, 1999 or 2000, etc. 2.) Outfits / Pick one person, and pull out all of the photos of that one person in that particular outfit. Then look at a photo where they are in a group and pick another person, repeat. Soon you'll have a stack from that particular day. 3.) Presents can help date a photo. You aren't going to get the 1999 Christmas Barbie in 1997.

- Been binge watching Haven on Tubi TV. I watched it on Syfy when it originally came on back in 2010, but I didn't really keep up with it back then and I wasn't sure what was going on with the show entirely and I'm pretty sure I never finished it. While I moved into the house I'm in now in 2008, 2010 feels so long ago that it feels like I should have watched the show when I was in my last place I lived in (2006-2008).

- that last bit where it feels like it should have been longer ago than it was, is probably due to some like inadvertent furniture arranging. I've gotten newer couches over the years and I've also kind of moved from my living room to my like office area over the years. Basically, I sort of inherited a large iMac desktop and the only place it would go is in my living room or my old TV was. Then I got rid of cable and just started using my Roku. Because I had the Roku I was using it in my office, as that's where my flat screen TV was now. In a way (slightly), it's almost like I "moved", so it just feels different now than back in 2010? Does that make a lick of sense, I know what I mean, but I'm not sure how to word it exactly. Lol

- I honestly, can barely remember what it was like having to choose what I watch based on what's currently on TV, at this very moment. Bless streaming TV.

- This is random, but I don't even remember what month I started binge watching Time Trax to keep me entertained during the pandemic, but it feels so, SO long ago.

- A cousin had her third son this past Thursday. Had no clue she was expecting. Neither did anyone else at my great aunt's funeral. FYI she and baby did not come. We found out from her aunt. Many, many people did not come, which of course is understandable.

- Shit. I still need to write someone a thank you card for the birthday gift they actually took time to make me. My birthday was in August. 🤦🏻‍♀️

- Been cutting up really old gel pens and using them to make inkblot art. When I say old, I mean like from 2001 to 2003ish. Using a embroidery? needle to get the ink out and smear on the paper. if you're wondering why I've kept gel pens, from nearly 20 years that don't work ... Because hoarder. Actually I've just had them so long and that I've just gotten used to them being around and normally don't even think about them.

- Can masks still be a thing after the pandemic? I don't mean a required thing, but like we should be able to wear masks in public if we have the flu, just don't feel like doing makeup or whatever. I want to be able to voluntarily wear a mask and not get flack for it. Make it like a fashion accessory. Just so we're clear, this is coming from a person who wears glasses and can't see shit with her mask on.

-claimed (won for 75¢) a couch slipcover on Geek. I have absolutely no idea how to properly put it on the couch and my grandparents house, but my cat has claimed The wanted fabric as a bed. So, I'm calling it a win. I also claimed a pet bed through the limited quantity deal, I didn't think my cat would pay any attention to it, but he actually loves it. Epic win. Oh, and I b also claimed a cat tree. I did have to leave the little cat house off of the top of it as it was WAAAAAY too small for my cat.

#life update #thought dump #whats going on #i think this covers it

[the-writerly-night-owl]

To Make Things Right

Mother of the Year/ Thomas Mendez x MC 

Summary: After getting bogged down with so many bills and the trial, Gloriana Day turns to one person that she hopes will help her. Her dad. She might need a little moral support from Thomas along the way, its even better when things get a little heated. 

Authors note: I was really curious to know why her dad was never mentioned. So I figured Grandpa day to the rescue sort of. They mention pretty casually where MC went to high school so I’m guessing close ish but not where they need to be. Plenty of Thomas x MC too where there’s a slightly steamy scene at the end. Enjoy! 

Gloriana Day calmly went into the law firm with a heavy heart. Her day had not gone well so far in the job search. She actually went to places to put paper applications in until it hit her. This was the day that things were going to change. Hopefully for the better.

“Is Thomas in?” asked Gloriana to the secretary as he looked surprised to see her. After a quick phone call, she was allowed in with Thomas waiting for her.

She had to love his office, she thought, as she closed the door behind her. It was big with windows that over looked a park. The dark furniture stood out with tons of law books on the shelves. From his seat Thomas was studying her a concerned look on his face. He had pushed away what he was working on minus a few things that needed attention.

“Gloriana is everything okay?” he asked alert with a legal pad and pen in front of him.

Sighing she nodded. “Everything is fine, it’s just that I got an email about paying the psychologist,” she said nervously starting out.

“Oh, if you need to borrow money,” said Thomas rummaging around in a drawer.

“It’s not… Well it is borrowing money but not from you. Um, oh gosh this is so hard to say.”

Shakily she took her phone out of her pocket as Thomas curiously watched her. Then perched herself at the edge of the chair.

“Breathe, everything will be okay,” he said starting a breathing exercise himself while she followed along. “Now what’s this about borrowing money?”

Her mind going a mile a minute before she could swallow any pride and dignity that she had left in her. This was going to be hard to do especially since it had been so long.

“I’m going to call my dad,” she said letting it all rush out. “Only thing is I haven’t talked to him since I married Guy. He never approved of him and for good reason looking back. I’m just afraid of what he’s going to say or asking for money would be wrong. I came here wondering if you’d just sit with me as I did it.”

Finally, able to breath normal again she watched Thomas’s face. He looked surprised for a minute and then relaxed into a smile. Getting up from his desk Thomas took the chair next to hers and faced her. Gently he took her hands and pulled her into a hug.

“Of course, I know how hard it can be. Um, Soldedad’s parents have been hard for me to talk to. I know it’s not the same, but I understand moral support. Besides if you can go all lawyery on him and just know that you have a friend here.”

Gloriana felt her smile grow a little and raised an eyebrow. “Just a friend?” she teased.

Thomas stuttered for a moment before shaking his own head. “Okay you got me. Just call okay? The worst he could say is no.”

Nodding her head Gloriana dialed the number she last knew that he had. He still lived in her childhood home and he even kept her room the same as it was when she was a teenager. Smiling she gripped his hand until they heard the line pick up on the other end.

“Hello,” said the voice of her father Michael Day.

Thomas gripped her hand and nodded.

“Dad?” she said.

“Gloriana? It’s so good to hear from you, is everything okay?”

Smiling at Thomas she told him everything that was going on. How she had divorced Guy, but she had a daughter now. What Lucia was like and just how smart she was. They had moved to Goldcliffe which was only about a half hour away from him now. What was even more amazing was how her dad asked the right questions and sounded very enthusiastic. Gloriana could imagine her dad sitting on his favorite chair with some team playing on the tv in the background.

Then finally telling him why she was calling.

“Dad, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to call you just to ask for money, but I didn’t know what else to do. I know that you raised me to stand on my own and not depend on you so much,” she said tears streaming down her cheeks. She really didn’t care what the PTA would think if they found out she got money from her father.  Thomas rubbing her back soothingly as she wiped it away from her face.

There was a long pause from the other end of the phone.

“You’re done with Guy right?” he asked.

“I never want to see his face again as long as I live if I can help it.”

What was weird was that she could hear him smiling on the other end of the line. “Good,” he said doing something on the other end while she heard him hum. “Thomas, you sound like a great guy, I give you all kinds of permission to marry my daughter if you wish.”

Color flooded to her cheeks while burying her face in her hands hiding a tiny smile. She glanced at Thomas who had paused and looked like one of Lucia’s red marker a pleased smile on his face as well. 

“Okay,” he squeaked.

“How much is it?” asked Michael as Gloriana told him the amount. It was just around three paychecks from her job. “Alright Gloriana, I have the money to help you out.” Her heart leapt in her chest with glee before squeezing Thomas’s hand. “However, I want you to move back into the house. Lucia’s school is only a half hour away, you just have to drive her. That way you can save some money, so you don’t have to pay rent. I could use some help around here.” 

Gloriana looked at her phone wonder why he would want her back. Thomas brought her back to reality as he rubbed her back. Then gave her a thumbs up as a gesture to take the offer.

“I can do that, you have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I’m just glad to have you back and away from Guy. I’m glad you realized just how terrible he really is. Now Thomas I have something that might help with this case. You see I’ve kept all the emails Gloriana was sending her mother saying just how bad he was before she passed. Including a day where you mentioned that he hit you when you got in a fight.”

Thomas rounded on her an angry and stunned look on his face.

“You didn’t tell me he hit you. I’ll beat him up for that,” said Thomas getting livid at the mere mention of that night. “It will definitely help in this case; can you print those Mr. Day?”

“Oh, call me Mike but of course. I also know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy that tried suing his snack company but got bribed off. If I can figure out his name, I’ll send him your way.”

Gloriana remember that day he had assaulted her. It was terrible but she had just brushed it off as somethings that happened in fights. This was almost too easy but then again moving Lucia wasn’t going to be a picnic. Finding a job was tough with a commute like that. Plus she had extra chores on top of the normal ones she had to do. 

Her dad and Thomas made a plan together which just made her smile. Things were finally letting up and this a good sign, right? 

“I love you dad,” she said, “And I’ll tell Lucia you said hello.” 

“I love you too sweetheart. I can’t wait to meet her.” 

Finally, the phone call ended with Thomas staring at her long and hard. She wished she told him this stuff earlier but things just got so complicated. About to apologize she turned to him. 

“Thom…”

His lips were on hers before she could say anything else. Kissing him back she wrapped her arms around him hands getting lost in his soft hair. Her legs went around his waist straddling him. Thomas had adjusted for her to sit on his desk. Forgetting about what just happened, Gloriana pushed aside his papers as they flew on the floor. She pulled him closer to her clawing at his jacket.

Thomas opened his mouth for her until they were fighting for dominance. Her sweater had inched up tan skin before she went to throw it off to the side.

“You could have told me that he did that,” he muttered between kisses across her collarbone and shoulder. She melted underneath him, her underwear growing wet at the thought of seeing all of him. 

“Well, I wouldn’t have seen you get all protective like this.” She kissed his lips once more a hand running up his shirt and felt his toned muscles.

He paused and kissed down to her breast. His hands pulled her close to him where they could only see each other. His body radiating warmth while she tugged at his belt. “Well, I would do something to…”

Before he could finish, there was a knock on the door. Gathering her sweatshirt, she made herself look presentable and Thomas adjusting his clothes. They shared a long look as the secretary poked his head in after getting permission. He reminded him that he was going on his lunch break.

“Would you like lunch Gloriana?” asked Thomas. “Taco truck?”

“Taco truck.”

With that they left the building. Even if her dad’s guy who knew a guy who knew a guy didn’t work out, they at least had evidence but that was good enough for her. Instead her mind wandering to when the next time she and would be able to make out like that again or even farther. And if she did go farther, maybe, just maybe, it would be on his desk. 

Tag list: @flyawayboo @queen-among-writers @am-i-invisible777 @adrianadmirer @fluffy-cat-whisper @melodyofgraves @symonde @paisleylovergirl @elainew13 @itsbrindleybinch @brightpinkpeppercorn @darley1101 @mfackenthal @jlpplays1 @writerapprentice @indescribablechoices 

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future stories or taken off! 

#thomas mendez #thomas mendez x mc #mc: gloriana day #moty mc #moty #choices mother of the year #choices: mother of the year #choices moty #choices: moty #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices: stories you play #playchoices fanfiction #choices #choices fanfiction

[aweirdkindofyellow]

The Royal Invitation, Pt. 9

Aerowyn Matilde George Rothchester might seem like a very long name, but it definitely is not for a royal in the Kingdom of Dalewin.

After her grandfather, the beloved king, passed away, Aerowyn (also known as Winny) is called back from her art school in New York. She’s thrown back into her royal duties, expected to know what to do.

But with the Royal advisor on tour with the new king, Winny is left to figure things out with his stepson. The only problem, he has no idea what he’s doing, after all he’s only the lead singer in a band.

Co-written story with @scream-tears.

Chapter 9

Winny’s POV:

I brushed out the wrinkles in my rose coloured dress as we walked down the hallway. My heels were really slowing me down, I could barely walk. I had been up on my feet since six in the morning and it was excruciatingly tiring. If this was a taste of what the life of a ruler was, I never wanted to be Queen. All my life, I thought I would be prepared when the time came, but I was seriously doubting myself.

“Come on, princess,” Alex rushed me, about ten steps ahead of me, “we’re going to be late for the meeting.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I literally cannot walk,” I seethed back, taking the smallest and most awkward of steps.

“Need me to carry you?” He raised his eyebrow at me teasingly.

“No,” I scoffed and tried taking a larger step.

Although I tried to do that, I couldn’t pick up my foot off the floor more. My heel managed to snag on the carpet. I immediately lost my balance. If I had had my normal walking capabilities, I would have easily stabilised myself. But I wasn’t that lucky. I barely managed to stop myself from falling over. If it hadn’t been for that small side table with flowers on it, I would have slapped on the cold marble.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry you?” Alex gave me an amused look.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to fire you?” I mocked and kicked off my heels, making his face fall. I technically couldn’t be seen like this, but I didn’t care anymore. “That’s right. I call the shots here, I’m not one of your crew members.”

“Alright, I’m just doing my job,” he defended himself and checked his watch. “We will be late now.”

“Well, that’s too bad for them,” I grumbled and followed him down the hallway again.

We were meeting with all the other advisors. I got why Alex was so set on being on time. He had also taken over for Garry in those meetings. The others didn’t really take him seriously. He had no experience, no knowledge about anything that related to the kingdom, and was literally the lead singer of a band. Not exactly advisor material. But Alex was set on proving himself.

When we finally reached the heavy double wooden doors, he was eager to get in.

“Hang on!” I yelped, slapping his hand away from the door knob.

He sighed loudly and turned to me with a fed up look. “What?”

I glared at him and put back on my shoes, grimacing at the way they made my ankles and toes burn again. Honestly, I did not feel like I could even dare to show my face at that meeting in the state I was in. My hair felt frizzy, my eyes felt heavy, and my skin felt sticky. But there was no time to take a second and freshen up. There was no time for anything.

“Oh, umm, wait a second.” Alex fumbled around with his clipboard for a second.

I watched, confused why he was now holding us back. Eventually, he reached out and started fixing my hair a little. First it was just simply pushing a lock of hair behind my ear, but then he started doing more. He tucked a few more pieces back into my hairdo and pulled a few other whisps out. Apparently I now also had a new stylist.

“Okay, good to go.” He gave me a thumbs up and opened the door without another warning.

It reeked of old white male in there. All three of them were sitting at the large dark wood table, leaning back in their chairs. They gave Alex one horrible look of disapproval, and continued to watch us silently take our seats. I was at the head of the table in the chair my grandpa and now my dad usually occupied. Alex was to my right, like he literally was my right hand man. Each one of us had a pen, a glass of water, and a folder with documents.

They all stared at me expectantly, snapping me out of a small trance.

“Oh, right, yes, umm, let us inaugurate this meeting,” I stumbled over my words, urging the first person to start talking.

“Yes,” the old man next to Alex sat up straight and opened his folder, “I need to bring the emergency financial budget to light.”

“Emergency financial budget?” I opened my own folder, hoping to find another name or something that would give me more information. But, no. It was literally called the emergency financial budget. Weren’t all budgets financial?

“You should have been given a document for you to review before this meeting.” He gave me a stern look.

I nodded and tapped my pen on the table. There had indeed been such a document. “And would you be willing to give a quick recap for the ones who may not have read it?”

He started using a scolding tone. “Miss. Aerowyn–”

“Princess Aerowyn,” Alex corrected, earning himself a few more mean glares.

“– may I inform you that it is your duty to make sure you come prepared to perform your responsibilities.”

“Mr. Dudley,” I responded sternly, “I was given fifteen minutes to read twenty different reports, each with a length of fifty pages or more. I believe it was your responsibility to provide me with a synopsis.”

The man across from Mr. Dudley showed that they still weren’t having any of it. “Why has this meeting been called if our own princess cannot even perform her duties?”

I ran a hand through my hair, messing up the work Alex had done just minutes before. I didn’t know what to do anymore, unruly advisors was not exactly a lesson I got. “I may not be your king, but I am still your authority.”

“We are better off spending our time waiting for the king to return that even try to progress now,” the third advisor added.

“Excuse me,” Alex butted in, “I will remind you to have some respect. While the king is celebrating his coronation – which is well deserved, may I add – Aerowyn is holding everything together here. All these responsibilities have been dropped on her with no advanced guidance.”

Mr. Dudley scoffed. “Public appearances surely do need a whole lot of leadership and command. Traipsing around–”

“I am begging you to hold that thought. Aerowyn has been in five different meetings since this morning and has merely made one public appearance. She has had to prepare for each one of these, including memorising a speech. I believe you have no right to discuss whether or not she is worthy of her authoritative power.”

“I believe that is exactly our job.”

Alex crossed his legs, his ankle on the knee of the other leg, and he leaned back. I almost thought he had given up, but then he came with a new strategy. Changing the subject. “I have a new preposition to make for the good of the country.”

Mr. Dudley gave him a nod, believing he had won this.

“As you know, I will be returning to the United States for the duration of two weeks in a few days time,” Alex started, catching me off guard. I didn’t know he was leaving, which was strange. Wasn’t I the one person that should know? “I propose Aerowyn comes with me.”

I watched as all their faces turned red. Scrap me thinking they were angered by Alex before, they were absolutely infuriated now. So much angry emotion for a group of 60-year-olds who believed I wasn’t worth their time and questions earlier. Turned out they actually knew what I did but just didn’t want to accept it. Who would have guessed?

“Absolutely not!” Mr. Dudley sputtered out angrily.

“It will be best for both her and the entire family and it’s associates,” Alex defended.

“Are you mad?” The man across from him sneered.

“I might be, but not in this case.”

The third shook his head and mumbled under his breath, “what was Garry thinking?”

“How about we leave personal attacks out of this? It would–”

“We cannot permit Aerowyn to leave. With both the King and Queen on their tour, we need somebody here to take care of matters. If she leaves right now, the family will seem weak. We simply cannot warrant this.”

Alex breathed in deeply and leaned forward, standing behind his point of view. “I hear your concerns and recognise them. However, you need to look at the bigger picture here. Would you rather have your princess crumble in the public eye, weakening the public image and confidence right at the start of the new king’s reign or would you rather have your princess leave for two weeks to a place she already lives during the year and have her come back stronger than ever?”

“Excuse me?!” I finally interrupted after watching from a distance for so long. All heads snapped in my direction. “Do I get a say in this?”

Alex relaxed and sat back in his chair again. “It’s your choice.”

“Aerowyn,” Mr. Dudley immediately pushed, “you can clearly see that this would not be appropriate!”

I didn’t say a word, and surprisingly they all stayed silent as well. It was the first moment of peace I had gotten in a long time. I reached out and grabbed the report from the table, bringing it to my lap. The four men continued to stare at me as I scanned the pages. I had no idea what I was reading. All I could do was softly rub my temple with one hand, my elbow on the armrest, messing up my hair even more, while the other hand shakily went to flip the page. Usually I had a very steady hand, but my body obviously thought that wasn’t necessary anymore.

Alex was right. It was my choice. But at the same time it wasn’t. Not even close. I had the authority to suddenly call for a holiday. I could give a few of my duties to other people. But those things weren’t the responsible things to do. As princess and future Queen of the Kingdom of Dalewin, I couldn’t just simply decide to leave. It wasn’t how it worked.

I looked up briefly, all their eyes still on me. I gave a quick wave. “Please, continue.”

There was just more tension and silence. I kept on reading. It was the least I could do. They all had things they wanted to discuss which I knew nothing about. So, they were going to have to say something, or else this meeting was just going to continue on without any talking.

“Maybe a few weeks in the United States isn’t a bad idea,” Mr. Dudley suddenly changed opinions.

Did I really look that bad? Was my appearance really screaming that I needed a break?

“Mr. Dudley, are you certain about this?” The man to my right seemed as shocked as I was.

“Alex– Mr. Gaskarth is correct.” He gave a nod in Alex’s direction. “The worst thing we can have right now with a new king in power is have the crown princess seem incapable. We can take care of matters for two weeks.”

“What about public appearances?”

“King Edward still has siblings who are a part of this family. It might also be the perfect time for Augustus to be introduced if he is willing.”

Something in me was worried that Augustus was being offered as my replacement. I didn’t want him to be overwhelmed with everything as well. But it was only the public appearances, I had to remind myself of that. Gus-Gus had been wanting to help out there for a while, but he had always been considered too young. He would be over the moon if he was given the chance. There was no way he’d let himself mess up.

“So,” Alex smirked at me, “what do you say?”

“Very well.” I closed the folder and put it back on the table.

“I believe that sorts that. We’ll convene in the near future to work through the details,” Mr. Dudley said, no longer mad but also not overly glad. Afterall, he wasn’t the one that won this. He then glanced at me. “If I may?”

I gave him approval through a nod.

“Meeting adjourned,” he called.

The three advisors left through the side door, back to their offices, while Alex and I went back out through the main door. I walked out as composed as possible. My feet were still hurting like a bitch in my shoes.

As soon as the heavy door closed behind us, I jumped on Alex and hugged him tightly. “I could kiss you right now!”

He chuckled, “I won’t stop you.”

“But I won’t.” I let go of him again, continuing from my previous statement and excitedly kicking off my shoes.

“Well, that isn’t disappointing at all.”

“I’m sure it is.” I started skipping down the hallway. “When are we leaving?”

Alex started speed walking after me. “In five days.”

“Five days… two weeks…” I mumbled to myself before spinning around to face Alex. “What are you actually doing back in the US?”

“Blink-182 has an opening act cancelation, we’ve been called in to replace,” he shrugged.

“Blink-182?”

“Yeah, they’re a band–”

“I’m not oblivious, Alex, I know who they are.” I restarted skipping down the hallway quickly.

“You’re forgetting your shoes!” He snatched the pair off the floor, one against the left wall and the other further down the hall and more to the right.

“Fuck the shoes!”

#all time low #all time low fanfiction #Alex Gaskarth fanfiction #Alex Gaskarth #Jack Barakat #Jack Barakat fanfiction #all time low imagines #Alex Gaskarth imagines #Jack Barakat imagines #The Royal Invitation

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

Bad Blood - Chapter 5

You can read it here on AO3 or find the Chapter Index here. 

***** 

Allison Argent is like a ray of sunshine, and Stiles is… well, Stiles is like a vampire, he guesses. He’s deathly allergic to rays of sunshine. He doesn’t feel happiness whenever Allison visits, even though he wants to, because it’s Allison. She’s sweet and funny and genuinely seems to care about Stiles, even though she hardly knows him, but all Stiles feels when she talks is a weird sense of envious disdain. She talks about school, and how she worries that she’s not fitting in, and how she misses her old friends in Phoenix, and Stiles is above all that, isn’t he? It’s petty teenage bullshit, because Allison doesn’t even know there’s a war going on—Allison doesn’t know anything about werewolves, or the multitude of other nightmarish creatures that actually stalk the world—and the stuff she cares about is childish and irrelevant, and Stiles wants to laugh at her for it, except he can’t, because whenever he tries to he feels a burn of pure jealousy in the pit of his stomach because she’s so normal. And he knows he shouldn’t want the things that she does, he knows he has a higher purpose, a birthright, but he remembers back when he thought he was just a normal kid too, and… and he thinks he was happy back then.

It’s hard to remember.

It’s harder still to evaluate his memories, because every single one of them has been tainted by his father’s betrayal. Every single one has been poisoned by the shame and the anger and the hatred Stiles feels now.

There was a time when Stiles thinks he remembers loving his father, but what the hell did he know back then? Nothing. He was just a dumb fucking kid.

“Stiles?” Allison asks, her forehead creasing. “Are you okay?”

Stiles jolts slightly. “Sorry. I zoned out. What were you saying?”

Allison smiles and elbows him. “I’m saying that there’s this boy and I think he likes me!”

“Of course he likes you,” Stiles says. “Who wouldn’t?”

They’re sitting on Stiles’s bedroom floor with their books and schoolwork spread out around them. Stiles’s curriculum doesn’t quite mesh with Allison’s, but it’s still fun to have someone to do homework with. Well, Stiles guesses everything he does is technically homework since he’s homeschooled, but it still feels nice. It feels almost normal.

That’s the trap, probably.

There’s a locked box under Stiles’s bed with his Kel-Tec PMR-30 and four clips of wolfsbane bullets in it. Stiles is still getting used to the Kel-Tec, but he likes the European-style magazine release.

Allison dropped a pencil a little while ago, and it rolled under the bed. She touched the box getting the pencil back, and she doesn’t know. They’re sitting here talking about schoolwork and a boy she likes, and she doesn’t know Stiles is a hunter. She doesn’t know he belongs to a very different world than hers. There’s something absurd about it, something jarring. It’s unsettling. Stiles has spent the last six years around hunters. He’s forgotten how to pretend to be a regular person.

Allison laughs, the colour rising in her cheeks. “That’s so sweet!”

“Totally true though,” Stiles says. “You’re smart, and pretty, and just about the nicest girl I know!”

She raises her eyebrows appraisingly. “Am I the only girl you know right now?”

That startles a laugh out of him. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Her expression softens into something uncomfortably close to pity. “I wish you could come to school with me.”

Stiles blinks down at one of his textbooks for a moment. “Yeah, Me too.” He doesn’t know if it’s a lie or not today. He forces a smile. “Anyway, tell me about this guy again. Is he cute?”

“Adorable,” Allison says. “He almost stabbed me with a pen the first time he met me.”

“That doesn’t sound very adorable.”

“It was an accident!” She laughs again. “I don’t even know how he knew I needed one, and then he shoved one at me so fast he almost fell over his feet. Maybe he tries to impress all the new girls with pens.”

“Ah,” Stiles says. “The mating rituals of the awkward teenage boy.”

“Do you have some experience with them?” Allison asks.

Stiles feels it again: that jarring, dizzying sensation. He shouldn’t have asked if the guy was cute, because is Allison… is she asking if…

Stiles flinches before he can stop himself.  

“You seem like the sort of guy who’d accidentally stab a girl with a pen,” Allison says hurriedly, the rush in her words like she realised what she was implying, and backed the hell away again because she saw the flash of panic in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Stiles says with a weak laugh. “That sounds like me.”

Allison hesitates. “His name’s Scott,” she says at last, and Stiles feels a swelling of affection for her for not pushing. “He has floppy hair, and his jaw is a little crooked, and he has the most beautiful smile!”

“He sounds nice,” Stiles says.

Allison ignores the rasp in his voice. “He’s invited me to a party on Friday night.” Her eyes widen. “You should come!”

Stiles shakes his head. “I don’t think—”

“No, it’s perfect!” Allison exclaims. “Because Mom and Dad are being all weird about boys, as per usual, but if I say that you’re going with me, they can’t say no!”

Stiles bets they can. He also bets that Chris and Victoria’s reluctance to let Allison out of the house after dark has less to do with boys and more to do with the fact that there’s a werewolf pack in this town.

“I’m supposed to be concentrating on my schoolwork,” Stiles says.

“Stiles!” Allison rolls his eyes. “It’s one night! Ask Grandpa if you can come with me, please!”  

God. Put him in a dark forest with an entire pack of werewolves and he knows exactly what to do. But navigate the social quicksand of a high school party? Stiles has no fucking idea how to do that.

Not that it matters, of course.

Gerard won’t approve, so it’s never going to happen.

“Sure,” he says. “I’ll ask.”

***

There was this boy, once.

Just a boy on the street in Budapest.

It had been winter, and everything was bleak and cold and grey, and this boy had been wearing a red coat, a flash of colour. A red coat, and a blue woollen hat, and he’d laughed, and Stiles had looked over at him—

He’s beautiful.

—and Gerard had followed the direction of his stare, his eyebrows tugging together in a scowl, and Stiles had torn his gaze away from the boy.

Gerard’s stare had settled on Stiles like he was seeing him for the first time all over again, except that this time he wasn’t pleased with what he saw.  

Stiles never looked at another boy on the street again.

***

Stiles lands on the mat, and all his breath is knocked out of him. He rolls onto his side and gets his knees under him. He tastes blood, and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.

Shit.

Gerard might be old, but he still has moves.  

Not that Stiles has ever been stupid enough to underestimate him.  

“Get up,” Gerard says, a growl in his voice. “If I was a werewolf, you’d already be dead.”

Stiles climbs to his feet. He sucks in a breath and rolls his shoulders. He dodges Gerard’s next punch, but a jab to his ribs has him twisting the wrong way, and Gerard punches him hard on the jaw.

Everything flares white with pain.

Stiles gets his gloves up in front of his face to protect himself. His vision is swimming, and he’s clumsy on his feet now. Still, he knows Gerard is right. A werewolf isn’t going to give him a chance to walk it off, is it? It’s fight or die in a hunter’s world, and if Stiles can’t handle a few punches from Gerard, how is he going to survive the real thing?

This time he takes a punch to the gut.

And a voice in the back of his head asks him: But if he keeps punching the shit out of you like this, how will you be in any fit state to go on a hunt at all?

Stiles ignores it, and sways on his feet for a moment, trying to find his balance.

A blow to the temple sends him down onto the mat again.

“Useless,” Gerard mutters. “Get up, Stiles!”

Stiles grunts, and tries to roll over. Flops onto his back again instead, and blinks up at the lights in the ceiling. There are more of them then there should be. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment to try to clear his vision.

“Useless,” Gerard says again.

Stiles opens his eyes and squints up at Gerard.

Gerard is unlacing his boxing gloves. “What the hell is wrong with you tonight? You’ve got worse form than a goddamn child.”

Stiles wishes he could say the words sting more than the cut above his eye that Gerard just opened up, but that would be a lie. “Sorry, sir.”

“You’ll get yourself killed out there!”

Stiles nods and swallows, and tastes blood again.

“You think that Kroměříž counts for anything here? You think that the Novákovi are anything like the Hales?” Gerard sneers at him. “You won’t last a second against the Hales unless you get your head out of your ass and remember how to goddamn fight!”

“Yes, sir.” Stiles tries not to wince when he breathes.

Gerard huffs and shakes his head. “We’re done here.”

He tosses his gloves down on the mat, and leaves the basement.

Stiles lays there a while longer, waiting to catch his breath.

He’s not sure how long it is until he’s able to climb to his feet, but the sweat is chilling on his body when he finally manages it. He stoops to pick up Gerard’s gloves, and places them back in the cabinet. It takes him longer than it should to unlace his own, picking at the knots with his teeth.

Gerard’s right.

He was useless tonight. He barely landed a hit before it was all over for him. He needs to train harder. He needs to get better. He needs to remember who he is, and what he’s here for. He’s a Stilinski, and he has a birthright. He’s a Stilinski, and he’s going to make that mean something again.

Something more than cowardice and betrayal.

He makes his way slowly up the steps, and into the kitchen. He fills a glass with water from the tap, and drinks it. Then he grabs a piece of kitchen towel and wads it up to hold against his split eyebrow.

He thinks of Allison and her normal life and her party and her crush on that boy who almost stabbed her with a pencil.

He doesn’t want that.

He doesn’t want anything like that.

He doesn’t.

He’s a hunter, not a kid.

Except later, when he’s curled up in bed trying not to move because it hurts, he finds himself texting Allison back and forth for a while and pretending, just for tonight, that he’s a regular kid after all.

And that, he discovers, hurts a lot more than any of his bruises.

#sterek #steter senior #my fics #discontentedwinter #bad blood

[ruinedthatfriendship]

Let’s Ruin the Friendship

A/N: Don’t remember writing it, but rereading was certainly an adventure! In which Dimon are besties and also in love, and it’s extremely fluffy . 

Demi wasn’t even all that surprised anymore to come home to the lights already on. The key she’d once given Simon for a legitimate and temporary use in her first year as an X Factor judge had been one she’d never actually gotten back, and sometimes she swore he spent more time in her apartment than he did in his own home.

“What are you doing here?” she sighed, trying not to be irritated with him as she closed the door behind her and slid off her coat. Normally she would have welcomed his presence, but the entire day had already rubbed her the wrong way and she didn’t really feel up to dealing with anyone, even him.

Simon was in the living room, laid out on her couch like he belonged with a bundle of papers in his lap and his glasses on. She’d always liked him in those glasses, not that she’d ever tell him that. He glanced up at her and wrinkled his eyebrows slightly. “Not very welcoming, brat. I did order dinner, you know.”

Demi perked up slightly in spite of herself, moving into the kitchen to set down her handbag on the counter for the time being. “Thai?”

“Obviously,” Simon replied, returning to the documents on his lap.

Demi made her way into the living area, shoving unceremoniously at his sock-covered feet and reaching for the remote. “Oh, move over, old man,”

He huffed something unintelligible at her, but obliged, shuffling his contracts and then pulling his legs up long enough for her to sit before promptly depositing them back in her lap with a smirk.

Demi made a noise of exaggerated disgust and glared at him, pushing at his ankles until he gave in and rearranged himself to give her space.

“Oh, come on darling, I live here too,”

She reached for the remote and ignored him, flipping aimlessly through channels. “You do not. One of these days I’m going to take that key back.”

“You wouldn’t,” Simon returned triumphantly. “I bring you dinner.”

“I may not be as ridiculously rich as you are, but I think I can afford to buy my own takeout,” Demi said loftily, lifting her chin and pretending to be very interested in a commercial for In-N-Out.

“I have plenty of other qualities, darling.”

Demi held his serious gaze for a moment before cracking, and both of them burst into laughter, Simon not bothering to stifle it the way he did so often on TV. “You are awful,” she finally snorted, smiling brightly in his direction.

“Annoying,” he countered.

“Old.”

“Brat.”

“Grandpa!”

“Gobby.”

“Demanding, gray haired ass--”

“Irritating, unpredictable, moody--”

“I hate you!” Demi complained with no real malice in her voice, pausing suddenly at the sound of her doorbell.

Simon pointed to her door with a wink, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and throwing a pair of $20′s at her. “I bought you dinner.”

Rolling her eyes, Demi uncurled her legs and made her way to the door. “Yeah, but I still have to go get it.”

She smiled politely at the delivery guy, accepting the bags of food and telling him to keep the change. She was already laughing before she’d even gotten the door closed, trying to peer into the white plastic bags in her hands. “Simon, did you order the entire restaurant? What is in here?”

He gave her that preoccupied glance again when she walked back toward him, evidently back to focusing on his work, and shrugged. “You haven’t eaten much lately,” he offered casually, as if it was obvious.

Demi blinked, sitting down rather heavily on the couch and proceeding to stare at him. And you noticed? She wanted to say.

“What?” Simon glanced at her, pausing with his pen between his lips.

“Nothing,” Demi spat out in a hurry, looking down at the food in her lap and busying herself unwrapping it. Finding his usual pad thai near the top, she wordlessly handed it to him and sorted through the rest of the options to pick something to start with herself.

It had been three years since the day Demi had agreed to meet Simon at her apartment for a contract meeting, and slipped her spare key into his hand, sending him around to the back of her building to avoid paparazzi. Working together on the judging panel, their relationship had only solidified from that point, and Demi accepted somewhere around the start of her second season as a judge that she was probably never going to get that key back.

And now that she was back to working on her music full time and touring, and he was dealing with the rest of his reality shows, she’d briefly expected their relationship to fade. Instead, he seemed to exist almost perpetually in one of two places; airports and her couch. Of course, with her having been across the world on tour recently, she wasn’t sure how much time he’d really been spending here, but it wouldn’t surprise her if he was still lurking on her sofa while she was singing in Europe. Demi only really found it strange if she tried to think about it through her most objectively rational lens.

Her family certainly thought it was weird that she was spending so much of her time with a 50 year old man, and Dianna frequently fixed her with a questioning stare and asked her what was going on with him.

The best she could offer was a lame ‘He’s my friend, Mom’, which always made her feel stupid. She had no other explanation, though. No, he wasn’t taking advantage of her. No, they weren’t sleeping together. Unless you counted the handful of times a jetlagged Simon had passed out on her bed. No, nothing was going on.

She just… inexplicably trusted him more than anyone else. She’d rather sit on the couch and watch Netflix and bitch about his feet or head in her lap than go out with other friends. And if rationally she knew it was weird to cuddle up to a man who was neither family nor lover, that the secrecy of a completely innocent friendship only added another layer of strange, that the stray thoughts and dreams that crept in sometimes were decidedly not welcome, she didn’t let on.

Mostly she tried not to be rational.

“So,” Simon said, setting the black plastic bowl of his dinner on the floor beside them. “Are you going to tell me what was bothering you earlier, doll?”

Demi frowned absently, glancing at him briefly. She was still nibbling on her own meal, scrolling through options on Netflix with an expression of concentration. “Huh?”

“You were upset when you got home,” Simon said matter-of-factly, prompting a weird look from Demi.

She’d almost forgotten she’d been in a bad mood, too busy laughing and bantering around with Simon to bother thinking about it. And he hadn’t only erased the problem, but noticed in the first place and made a point to ask. Something fluttered in her chest, and she studiously ignored it, aware all the while that she was currently sharing a sofa with a man that, for all his flaws, was probably better than she deserved. 

“It was stupid,” she mumbled, glancing to her lap briefly and then back to the TV. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Demi,” he prompted softly.

“Oh come on, Simon,” she tried, “I’m always a grumpy brat, aren’t I?”

“Mm, annoying, yes.” He mused. “Brat, yes. Stressed and irritated? Not if I can help it,”

Demi softened at his words, and sighed, settling quickly on an old episode of House of Cards that was still at the top of her watchlist, probably Simon’s fault. “Phil thinks I should add a tour date,” she huffed. “I don’t want to, and he’s pissing me off because he doesn’t want to listen.”

“Add a date where?” Simon murmured. He was still looking down at the paperwork in his lap, but Demi wasn’t fooled. She knew he was still listening to her.

Demi shrugged. “At the end, after France.” She was currently enjoying a break after the last few concerts in the US for the tour, before flying out to France for a single show in September. “He wants to book a concert in Brazil. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Simon looked up at her, fixing her with a look on his face that said he was in manager mode. “Why not?”

Demi pouted. “I don’t want to go to Brazil.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “Demi!” When she just sat there petulantly, he sighed, trying to be patient. “What’s wrong with Brazil?”

Phil wants to book it over your birthday and I want to be here but I can’t use that argument because it would be weird. Demi said none of that, opting instead to inarticulately blink at him. “Um.”

“Well obviously he’s not listening to you,” Simon snorted. “You’re objecting to an entire country and you don’t have a reason?”

“It’s in October,” Demi offered lamely. “I thought I’d be done by then.”

“You were supposed to be in Madrid in October, before that one got cancelled,” Simon pointed out. “I’m not surprised Phil wants to add something back, all things considered.”

“Yeah but the Madrid one wasn’t--” Demi started to protest, then cut herself off. “Never mind.”

“Wasn’t what?”

“Never mind, I said.”

“Wasn't what, brat?” he pushed gently, standing with his stack of contracts and moving them to her kitchen table before returning, this time throwing an arm around her shoulders.

Demi sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. They didn’t do this. They were always together and they had no boundaries and they were always doing something or other that really pushed the limits of what defined a normal friendship. But nothing was said, no confessions made. Telling him she wanted to skip Brazil for the sake of his birthday would cross a line she couldn’t take back.

“I was gonna do something with Maddie,” she mumbled, a cop-out. “The Spain date didn’t conflict with it.”

Simon briefly rested his head on top of hers, hugging her a little tighter. “I’m sure your sister will understand, doll. You can just reschedule,”

Demi sighed, snuggling closer and putting her feet over his lap this time. “I guess,” 

“You won’t be missing much anyway,” he tried for levity, as always playing the cocky, I’m-Simon-Cowell card. “I’ll be in London for most of the month, anyway.”

She lifted her head to peer at him, studying his face. “You will?”

Simon just nodded, briefly gesturing to the stack of papers on her table. “Taping for BGT. Though I expect my mum will be happy; I’ll have no excuse not to see her for my birthday.” He grimaced theatrically.

Demi wasn’t sure if she was supposed to feel better or not, but at least it wouldn’t be her fault if they missed each other now. Still, however you looked at it, she wouldn’t be with him, a concept that bothered her rather more than she was willing to admit. She was quietly contemplative, staring blankly ahead of her at the TV while Simon actually watched the episode, tucked into his side and inhaling the familiar scent of cigarettes and mint and, this time, her laundry detergent. The ever present, well-worn white shirt must have been one of the ones he’d left here.

She could deny everything to her mother all she wanted, and technically it was the truth. They were friends, and they weren’t sleeping together, and they both frequently went on dates with other people that somehow always ended up with the two of them in her apartment, complaining about it. But none of that negated the fact that Demi had been pretty sure of for a while now, though she was loathe to admit it even to herself.

She took the opportunity briefly to study Simon’s face. He was unaware of her, absorbed in Netflix and rather adorably focused on the episode. God help me, she thought, I’m falling in love with you.

It was a sobering thought, rather than a happy one, because she knew Simon would never feel the same way about her. He was the sort of man who went after what he wanted, and if he’d ever wanted her he would have done something about it a long time ago. He wouldn’t be hanging around to platonically snuggle with her and generally make a nuisance of himself.

She watched Simon lean back and let Netflix autoplay the next episode, smiling a bit to herself while her eyelids drooped. She was going to get hurt and she knew it. But for now, she was tired and Simon made for a comfortable pillow. She’d worry about the rest of it all later.

***

Demi blinked slowly in the darkness, sleepily half-awake and not quite sure what was going on. She was lying stretched out on the couch, she figured, squashed up against the back of the couch and half-lying on Simon’s chest. The room was completely dark, illuminated only by the dim grey glow of her TV still showing the red Netflix symbol, and she figured it was probably somewhere between three and four am.

She shifted slightly, letting her eyes fall shut again and feeling Simon’s breathing stutter slightly in its rhythm, his hand moving just enough against her back to tell her he was awake too. And she probably should have gotten up then, whispered an apology and slunk off to her bedroom--where he’d probably just follow anyway, stealing the other half of her blankets--but it was nice, and she wanted to be selfish just this once. Odd as it may sound given all of their usual closeness, she’d never actually gotten to sleep like this, and Demi didn’t really feel like giving up the opportunity.

She’d just pretend she was still asleep. She’d fall back to sleep anyway soon enough, she figured. And of course as soon as she thought that, she’d cursed herself to lie restlessly awake in the dark, all of her unbidden thoughts about Simon deciding to race around her skull again.

Demi held in the annoyed huff she wanted to give, still committed to feigning sleep, and tried to find a positive in the situation. At least she’d actually remember the experience of sleeping in Simon’s arms, just this once.

She was fairly certain Simon had fallen back to sleep by now, and she was doing her best to do the same, when his quiet whisper split the silence. “Demi?”

Keeping her breathing even and wondering why she was bothering, Demi said nothing, continuing her Oscar-worthy performance of being asleep and dead to the world. She felt Simon adjust his arms around her, holding her tighter, and he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her hair.

“Damn it, brat.” he sighed, and Demi wondered if she was squishing him terribly. She was just about to give up her game and sit up when he spoke again, his voice so low she could barely make out the words, even as close as she was to him.

“I love you,”

Demi’s heart skipped several beats, then started racing. She could barely breathe, and she was almost sure he could feel her heartbeat against his own rib cage, but if he knew she was listening, he gave no indication. “I love you,” he repeated in a whisper, sighing softly as if the admission came at great personal cost.

There was a sensation like a balloon swelling up in her chest, and she was starting to smile to herself into his shirt, no longer able to resist responding. Smiling brightly in the darkness and now very much wide awake, Demi popped her head up to prop her chin on his chest, feeling him jump slightly beneath her at her sudden movement.

“You do?”

His hand tightened reflexively on her hip, and she could feel his heart racing under her wrist. “Doll, I--”

“It’s okay, Simon,” she whispered softly, biting her lip and wishing desperately she could see his face better.

“Demi--” he started, sounding suddenly very tired and very defeated. Like he thought he’d just destroyed everything.

“I love you too,” she blurted, wanting so desperately to take that note out of his voice. “It’s okay, Simon… I’m in love with you,” she whispered hesitantly.

Simon went very still, and then she felt his arm leave her back and reach up somewhere behind his head. A switch clicked, and then the lamp on the table beside the couch flared, light momentarily blinding both of them as their eyes adjusted.

Demi blinked rapidly, trying to focus her vision. And the first thing she saw was Simon, tired and rumpled with his hair sticking up and the slight imprint of the hand she’d extended above her in sleep on his jawline, vulnerability and hope flashing across his face.

Propping herself up cutely with her elbows on either side of his chest, she met his eyes with a little smile and a shrug, biting her lip and waiting for a reaction.

A pause that seemed to last an eternity while his brain caught up, and then all at once he yanked her the last few inches up toward him while she squeaked, and crashed his lips against hers.

Demi moaned involuntarily into the kiss, parting her lips for his tongue to trace her mouth and sliding one of her hands up into his hair, her entire body coming alive under his touch.

No one had ever kissed her like this, no one had ever made her feel like this, and she knew all at once that for all her diligent sobriety, this would be one addiction she’d never get over.

Simon sat up with her on his lap, his hands sliding under the loose top she was wearing, breaking the kiss to look at her with a question in his eyes. Demi answered it for him by hastily yanking the shirt over her head and discarding it, leaving her in just a lacy bralette.

And as she reached for the hem of Simon’s own trademark t-shirt, Demi spared one last thought for Phil and the tour. It was getting rescheduled, or better yet, never booked, because she’d be on a flight to London. Transatlantic obligations be damned, there was no way she was going to miss this.

[joohoneyhoe]

You Are My Life: One

Why is it you?  I’m going crazy. What is this?  I think I’ve fallen for you.

[song inspiration: MONSTA X -  Fighter + Be Quiet + Queen + Trespass + All In & Jooheon - Rhythm]

| One | Two |

info: lee jooheon x oc genre: single dad!au, boxer!au, angst with a hint of fluff and smut to come word count: 5.2k a/n: so, turns out this is going to have to be a series because I have too much juicy content to fit it all into a oneshot. But, enjoy this first chapter of sweet single dad, boxer Jooheon.

I sat in that stuffy, over the top office building staring out the wall to wall, ceiling to floor windows, watching the bustling city of Seoul with a blank expression. My lawyer sat directly to my right, my soon to be ex-wife and her expensive, over the top lawyer directly across from us. My eyes wandered up to the woman I had thought I would always love, her dark stare tearing through me, just like she had tore through me mentally for the last six out of nine years of marriage.

Joy, my once loving and supportive bride, sat there with a stone face as she looked me dead in the eyes. A picture of pure professionalism and dissociation from me, her always faithful husband. She showed no signs of having ever cared about me, or our two beautiful children in the other room. I could feel my heart breaking with each condition listed off for the final draft of our divorce, my eyes watering, threatening to breach the lids.

They were all speaking, each one participating, but my brain couldn’t register anything that was being discussed. My mind on nothing but my children, who were off in a room designated for situations such as these. My two precious baby girls, barely four years old, and the absolute lights of my life. I would do anything for them, including this.

“Mr. Lee, Do you agree to these terms for the final draft of your divorce?”

My eyes shot up to my wife’s lawyer, his face showing his irritation with my lack of participation. I glanced over the paper that lay before me, seeing one very important detail I did not agree to with every fiber of my being.

“I requested full custody of the girls. Joy does not have the time or patience for our children, that much has been made very clear in the last few years. I have raised and taken care of them since birth. I refuse to let them be carted off to a boarding school, because she does not have the time to raise them herself.

I have a steady income from my gym, and business has only gotten better. I’ve purchased a home already, moved them and myself in and prepared everything. That includes the change of schools and babysitting arrangements for the rare occasion they get out of school before I can leave work to meet them in time for drop off. I will sign nothing until that is corrected.” I stated firmly, sliding the paper back across the table to them.

Joy let out a loud huff of annoyance, something I had become all too familiar with over the last decade. I watched her snag the pen from in front of her, furiously scribbling out the custody agreement, and rewriting it.

“There,” she said as she shoved it back to me, slamming her pen on the table before crossing her arms. “they’re all yours, Jooheon. I’ll take them once a month and no more than that.” I felt a tear fall from my eye, rolling down my cheek and landing on the paper, her scoffing in disapproval at my lack of emotional control.

Why had I stayed so long and tried so hard, just to end up here in the end.

“Mr. Lee, are you satisfied with that? I will obviously revise the child support in your favor, for the first of every month. Other than that, are there any other discrepancies?” the man asked, not bothering to look at me as he jotted down more notes.

“No, sir. I accept those terms.”

“Great. Initial here, here and here, then sign here and we’ll be through. I’ll have the official paperwork adjusted and sent to your lawyer for you to sign, making your divorce final, Mr. Lee.” I nodded, handing what papers I had back to my own lawyer to place into his manila folder. “Ms. Park, I will send you the paperwork as soon as I have revised it, I wish you both well.” he bowed deeply to her after he stood, her standing up right after and straightening her pencil skirt carefully.

I stood, my lawyer giving me the same gesture, then patting my shoulder reassuringly before exiting, leaving the two of us alone. She removed her wedding ring and band from her finger, setting them down in the middle of the table, not a single emotion crossing her features. She had never cared for the ring that much anyway, always complaining that it wasn’t “fitting enough” for her. Why she had continued to wear it, other than for appearances, was beyond me.

I glanced down at my own ring, feeling an ache in my chest as I moved to take it off, placing it down next to hers. A symbol of my broken marriage, my former love, and my seemingly motherless girls. I felt my eyes watering again as I stared down at the rings that once held such meaning to me, my breath coming out in unsteady exhales.

“Once a month, Joy, really? If that’s all you wanted, why did you bother to ask for full custody? You know what those girls mean to me.” I finally spoke, narrowed eyes darting up to meet hers, a look of anger flashing across my face. She shrugged, a smug look on her sharp features, tongue running over her excessively white teeth.

“My mother insisted, despite me informing her that they were too much like you, to tolerate on my own.” my fist balled up in fury, my knuckles going white as my lip curled upward. “I wanted children I could raise up to run my company when I’m gone, not overly sensitive philanthropist. You knew that from the beginning.” I bit down on my bottom lip, stopping myself from lashing out.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. Let me know when you want to give up your rights as a parent entirely, Ms. Park.” with that, I walked off, heading down the hall to retrieve my children, my stomach tight with anger.

I knocked once, alerting them that I was entering before turning the handle. I found both of my girls sitting at a child size table, coloring happily together as my mom and dad sat with them. My heart swelled with pride at the sight of them, the tears finally falling from my eyes full force.

“Daddy!” they shouted together, jumping up from their seats as I crouched down, my arms open wide to them. I wrapped them both up in my arms, picking them up and hugging them tightly to my chest. My mother approached me, my father right behind her, sympathy all over their faces.

“You did the right thing, son.” she reassured me, her hand holding the back of my head as she pressed her forehead to mine, tears continuing to fall from my eyes as my dad clasped his hand comfortingly on my left shoulder. “You did the right thing.”

{six months later}

“Alright girls, grandpa will pick you up after school and daddy will be home around dinner time. I have a new client today, so I’ll have to stay a little late tonight. Is that okay?” I questioned, standing outside the door of their preschool classroom. They both nodded, bright smiles on their pretty round faces, deep dimples appearing on their cheeks.

“Okay. I love you, be good girls.” I kissed each one, taking their faces into my hands as I did so. “We will.” Jee replied as Dae nodded in agreement. I gave them one last kiss each, then watched as they darted into class excitedly, giving me a wave before the door closed behind them.

Sighing deeply, I reluctantly left the school, hopping into my SUV and heading to the gym for the next ten hours. It was days like today that made being a single father hard. But, in the end, it was all worth it to make sure my girls had everything they needed.

I pulled up to the back entrance, seeing Shownu’s car already parked in its regular spot, my eyebrow raising curiously. The gym didn’t open until nine, and it was only half past seven. Hopefully it wasn’t anything serious, and he was just there to prep everything for the start of the day.

I sauntered into the back office, finding him sitting at his desk with a stack of paperwork in front of him, music pulsing from the speakers of our shared computer. I slung my backpack off my shoulder, dropping it to the floor near the door, startling him.

“Jesus, Jooheon! You scared the shit out of me.” he proclaimed, his head leaning back as he held his chest. I let out a chuckle, sitting down in my computer chair and spinning aimlessly as he turned the music down substantially.

“Why the hell are you here so early? It’s a fucking Wednesday.” I questioned, stopping to face him, my head feeling a little dizzy from spinning. He raised an eyebrow at me, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“We’re super behind on paperwork. I thought I would help my “boss” out, by doing as much as I could before opening today. Plus, you have a new client scheduled after we close. I figured I might as well get that shit all straightened out before you’re here late every day.

Why the fuck did you even agree to an after hours session? That’s not like you at all, especially since you gained custody of the girls. Who is it exactly?”

Shownu asked me, his large arms folding over his equally large chest. He really needed to stop working out so much, he was starting to look like the jolly green giant, minus the green part. But, if he kept drinking that green shit he called a smoothie every morning, he might be soon enough.

“Jooheon, who the hell is it?”

I rubbed the back of my neck nervously, afraid to admit that it was a woman. I hadn’t seen her in person, she had called me over the phone and requested after hours sessions. She offered me double my normal price, three days a week for the next six months. It was hard to refuse that kind of offer, female or not.

“I don’t know, some woman called and asked for after hours sessions with me specifically. She offered to pay me double the price, and it’s kind of hard to refuse that when I have school tuition that needs paid every month.” I explained to him, resting my head against my chair as I stared up at the ugly ceiling tiles.

“Jooheon, you don’t have to do that, you know. Your ex-bitch of a wife pays you almost two grand in child support every month. I don’t understand why you don’t put that towards their tuition fees and what not.”

“Because I don’t need to. That money goes straight into their savings account to use for whatever they need when they’re eighteen. Whether it be for college, art school, traveling, whatever it is, it’s there. I feel much better knowing I’m securing their future with that money, then using it now just to make shit easier for myself.” pinching the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger, I sighed heavily.

“Alright, alright. I get it, man. I just–I just don’t want you to bust your balls here all the time, when you could be at home with them. That’s all.” his hand landed on my thigh, patting it gently before turning back around to the task at hand. I carded my fingers through my disheveled locks, pushing stray hairs away from my eyes.

“Give me half of the stack, Shownu. We’ll get more done that way.” I pointed out, holding my hand out blindly to take some. I underestimated how many there were, the weight making me nearly drop them. “Jesus fucking Christ! Why didn’t you tell me we were this behind?!”

“I did.” I made a lewd noise with my mouth, looking around at everything but Shownu as he gave me a look of disapproval, a look I was all too familiar with.

“Oops.”

“Alright, I’m headed home for the night. You gonna be okay here alone?” Shownu questioned as he picked up his gym bag, his large hands holding it tightly. I spun around in my chair to look up at him, leaning back, tired from the long day.

“Calm your oversized pecs, Shownu. It’s a woman, not a three hundred pound professional boxer. I’ll be fine.” I reassured him with a grin, taking my chair for another spin. He just simply shook his head at me, cocking a dark brow.

“If you say so, boss. And they’re not oversized, they’re proportionate to my body mass, asshole.” I let out a loud laugh, making him scowl. “Whatever you say, Incredible Hulk.” saluting him, I made one more final spin in my chair, regretting it almost immediately..

“I’m leaving, because you’re a dick.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Killer Croc.” he cracked a smile this time before marching out the office door and pretending he didn’t. Letting out a loud sigh, I shut down my laptop and proceeded to go get equipment ready for the session.

To my surprise, Shownu already had it all prepped and ready for me. I knew there was a reason he was my business partner and best friend. I grabbed the wrist wrap and began to wind it around my wrist, palm and knuckles. The doorbell chimed as I was making my final pass on my last hand, so I didn’t bother to look up right away.

“Mr. Lee?” a female voice called, it’s powerful and confident tone surprising me, my head jerking upwards.

My eyes were met with a tall, well toned, black haired woman, covered in intricate tattoos and a few facial piercings. I didn’t hide my surprise well at all, eyes wide as I looked on at her, my mouth agape. I had been expecting a soft woman, looking to learn how to defend herself if the need should ever arise.

This was not that kind of woman.

She commanded the room, her stare intense, but cool and collected all at the same time. The all black ensemble of a sports bra and spandex capris she came in only made her that much more intimidating, in my eyes. All of her well defined areas, like her stomach, arms, thighs and leg muscles on display.

What could she possibly want to train with me for? It doesn’t look as if she needs anything from anyone.

I hadn’t realized how long I had been staring at her until she was right in front of me, her hand out to shake my own. I hastily finished off my wrap, putting the velcro in place, then extended my hand in greeting.

“Mr. Lee, I assume?” her voice was like a knife, cutting through the silence like butter.

“Ah, Jooheon, actually. Mr. Lee is a bit too formal in my profession. You are Ozzy, if I’m correct?” she nodded, dropping her hand from mine, setting her bag down on the bench beside her.

“That you are and yes, it’s after Ozzy Osbourne. My parents were metal heads.” she answered with a small chuckle, a lighter side of her already showing itself to me. She unzipped her bag and pulled out her own wrist wrap, making me notice a pair of hot pink boxing gloves poking out. “No shame in the Osbourne game. Wish my parents had been that cool.” I joked, making her laugh again.

“Do you mind helping me? Either I wrap them too tight, or not tight enough. I’d like to learn how to do it properly.” she explained, holding one of her black wraps out to me, her knuckles, fingers and hands covered in beautiful black ink. I made a mental note of the slight tan line on her ring finger as I plucked it from her palm, holding my other hand out to have her place it in mine. I didn’t want to say anything about significant others that could possible upset or offend her.

“The key to wrapping is to make it solid, but without making it too loose or cutting off the blood flow to your hands. You always start the wrap over the back of your hand, not underneath. This is where people usually make their mistake when wrapping, because it messes with the entire flow of the wrap.

And, you ALWAYS wrap up your wrist first. That’s people’s second biggest mistake that usually ends in a broken wrist. The whole point of a wrist wrap is to keep your wrist as straight as possible, that way the impact of a punch is absorbed through the arm, instead of the wrist. You do this step between three and four times, then finish it at the base of your thumb.

Now, spread your fingers out for me, we want to wrap around your knuckles twice, but if your fingers are too close together when we do, it will feel squished when making a tight fist. We don’t want that.

Lets do your thumb now, but we don’t want to wrap it too tight. Again, circulation. We only need one pass here, unless you’ve had a thumb injury previously.” I stopped, waiting for her response before to moving onto the next step.

“I have not.”

“Good, let’s continue then. We have to anchor your thumb now, to achieve that, we wrap around the wrist one time. Then, we move back to the knuckles with a diagonal wrap, continuing until we have twenty inches of material left, give or take. This gives your knuckles extra cushion and will lead us to the last step.

Now, we’re going back to the wrist for the final time, wrapping it until we’re out of material and down to the velcro. We want the velcro on top, because it won’t get caught in the bend of your wrist, like it would if it were underneath. And there you go, how to wrist wrap one-o-one.” I said triumphantly, a smile on my lips as I turned her hand over in mine, checking my handiwork.  

“Now, you try the other on your own, just like I showed you.”

I suggested, folding my arms over my chest as she nodded. I watched her start exactly where I had showed her, her eyes conveying her concentration as they narrowed. She followed each step as if she had done it for years. I had to admit it, she was very precise and intriguing to watch.

“Did I do it right?” she questioned, holding both hands out to show me.

I took them both into my palms, comparing her wrap against mine thoroughly. She had done it absolutely perfect, not one single flaw that I could pinpoint. As I was looking over her hands, I found myself admiring the tattoos on her fingers, the delicate swoops of each letter that was etched into her pale skin.

“Do you have any?” my eyes shot up to meet hers, a smile on her plump lips. “Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.” I apologized, quickly letting go of her hands, shoving mine in the pockets of my black sweats. “It’s alright, I don’t mind. So, do you have any or not?” she pressed.

“Yeah, actually. I have two full sleeves, a chest piece and a some on my legs. I usually cover them for the first few sessions with a new client though, because not everyone is okay with that level of body modification. I like to be sure I don’t offend anyone if I don’t have to, so I wait until I’m sure they’re comfortable with me before I show any of my tattoos.” I explained, gauging her response.

“Can I see them?” her head tilted to the side in curiosity, making a wide grin spread over my face. “Well, I can pull my sleeves up and show you that way if you want.” she shook her head no, moving a little closer to me.

“I’d really like to see them all, if that’s not too much to ask. We’re getting ready to work up a sweat anyway, am I right?” I let out a laugh at her level of boldness, grabbing the hem of my shirt and pulling it off, tossing it over to the bench her things were on. She stepped even closer, leaning over slightly to closely inspect the ink that littered my arms and chest.

“I know this artist. Im Changkyun, or I.M as most people call him, correct?” my eyes widened in surprise, mouth falling open. “Y-yeah, how did you know that?” her hand reached out and gripped my forearm, pulling me closer as her fingers ran over the lines.

She definitely wasn’t a shy one.

“I.M works in my shop, he’s my best artist. He did these after hours I assume, because I would certainly remember seeing you, Lee Jooheon.” she pointed out confidently, dropping my arm to meet my stare.

“If I answer yes, will Changkyun get in any sort of trouble?” with raised eyebrows, she shook her head no.

“I.M has keys to the shop in order to collect more business after hours if he chooses. I have no qualms against that, because he pulls in nearly half of my business all on his own. I trust him with the integrity of the shop when I’m not around.” she reassured me with a smile as she pulled her gloves from her bag and put them on.

“Well, that’s reassuring. I wouldn’t want him getting into any trouble because of me. He’s one of my closest friends, I’d feel very responsible if he got into any trouble over it.” I explained as I grabbed the focus mitts from the floor next to the ring, tugging them under my arm as I met her intense gaze.

“I promise he won’t get into any trouble. I.M is a good man, and I’d be fool to get rid of him.” I nodded my head in response, turning to head into the ring finally.

“Alright, let’s get into the ring and do some basics for now. You ready?” I questioned once she was in the ring with me, already getting into her stance. “I’m ready when you are.” I lifted my hands up with the mitts, readying my own stance.

“Okay, the first thing we’re going to do is the jab call-out. We want to get our legs moving and start practicing the most important move in boxing, the jab, obviously. I will call out “jab” or even “double jab” as I flash which mitt I want you to focus on. After we get that down, we’ll move on to body jabs and head jabs. But for now, I think we’ll focus here. Sound good?” she nodded in response, her face already showing her concentration and intensity.

I began to bounce back and forth on my feet, her following my lead. I evaluated her stance, her posture and came to the conclusion that she had certainly done this before. We circled each other a few more times, I could see she was getting restless. It was like watching a lion narrowing in on it’s prey, her bright blue eyes always trained on me.

“Jab!” I shouted, her quickly responding, the force of her punch surprising me. “Double jab!” again, perfect response and force. I decided I was going to test my theory of whether or not she had actually done this before and wasn’t just a natural.

“Right cross, jab!” no hesitation with her punches, whatsoever.

“Overhand left, double jab!” another perfect punch was landed, but this time, I swung back. She slipped it seamlessly, then quickly got in her two jabs as directed. I shook my head and grinned, her giving me her own mischievous smile, knowing I had caught on to her. I began to circle her again, her eyes never wavering from me, her guard up.

“You’ve done this before.” I said lowly, bringing the mitts up to my face in a defensive stance before taking a jab, her blocking it without a single misstep. “It’s possible.” she hit the mitt with another double jab, bouncing back away from me immediately after.

“Why do this then? Why spend money on something you already know how to do and why ask specifically for me?” I inquired, her swinging for my head, causing me to duck low and then block a jab following after.

“A little birdie told me that you and I, have a lot in common. Plus, that little birdie also said you were quite the looker.” she shot me a wink, my pulse quickening almost instantly, so I took a head jab and she dodged it. But, she fired back at me, her movements quick, but not quick enough to catch me off guard.

“I’m going to beat the shit out of that little birdie the next time I see him.” I promised, flashing my mitts for her to hit me as she pleased, which she did with a smirk on her lips. “I would say that the little birdie was only trying to help out his friend and to cut him a little slack. Because guess what, he was right about one thing.”

“And what would that be?”

“You are certainly a looker.”

I was completely caught off guard this time and she jabbed at my stomach and landed a hit, knocking me back slightly. I’m sure my face didn’t hide my surprise. She had certainly planned on that stunning me, that was for sure. I dropped my mitts, letting out a chuckle as she dropped her stance and gave me smirk again.

“What do you want from this?” I questioned, taking the mitts off and dropping them onto the floor of the ring. She followed suit, doing the same with her gloves, but she moved to sit, folding her legs under her. Her eyes met mine, giving me a friendly smile now as she patted the spot beside her. I took a deep breath, calming my nerves before taking a seat next to her.

“I just want to get to know you.” she finally told me as she turned her head to face me. “You’re willing to pay double my normal price, just to get to know me?” I asked skeptically, eyebrow raised as I meet her stare. “Yep.”

“Why though?”

“Well, for one, I enjoy being able to support fellow self owned businesses. Two, I haven’t boxed in years and need to touch up on my skills. And three, because all I.M and any of his friends talk about when they’re in my shop, is you and your gym. So, why not get to know the man I’m constantly hearing great things about?” she explained with a shrug as she toyed with her bare ring finger as if there were a ring still there.

“Were you married?” I probed softly, watching as she quickly stopped fiddling with her finger. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want.” she shook her head, grabbed her gloves and quickly stood up.

“I have a better idea. How about, for every hit I get in, you answer a question and lets say every five blocks you get in, I’ll answer one. Deal?” I joined her, picking up my mitts and readying myself. “Deal.”

She immediately came at me, not holding back at all now. Her punches were precise and strong, but not hard to block, for the time being. She kept moving, bouncing on her toes as we circled each other, a smile slowly creeping across her plump lips. I made a few swings at her, but nothing I knew she couldn’t block. She darted for me again, this time with a left uppercut and now I knew she was a lefty.

“That’s block number five. So, same question.” I pointed out, holding my mitts back up, having no intentions of stopping as we conversed.

“Yes, I was married.” she responded simply, taking a double jab at me. “Is that really all I get?” I complained, ducking as she swung at my head, dodging successfully. “You have to earn the rest.” rolling my eyes I put up my guard, afraid of what she was going to ask me. But, she swiftly got the better of me and hit me right in the ribs minutes later.

“How long have you been divorced?” she asked bluntly, still popping off shots at me. “Six months.” I blocked the fifth shot at me, readying my next question. “How long were you married?” holding my mitts up, I let her take a few free shots, knowing this could be a sensitive topic.

“I was married for seven years and twenty-seven days.” she huffed out, beads of sweat beginning to form along her brow and chest. “That’s very specific.” I pointed out as I made a swing at her abdomen, her successfully sidestepping it.

“Maybe one day you’ll know why.”

“Maybe.”

We went on like that for a while, she got quite a few shots in, only asking basic questions from then on and I did the same. I think we both just wanted to be on the same page about whether or not the other had ever been married, and I was fine with that. She intrigued me, beyond what anyone had in a very long time.

I had learned she built her business from the ground up after she got divorced, even though it was a risk. The tattoo industry in Korea was still very taboo, but she had made a success out of it and was thriving, which was beyond impressive. I also learned that she had come her nearly ten years ago for a trip, met her husband and never left. She had said this was her home now, there was no reason to go back.

After a good forty-five minutes of this back and forth exercise, I decided it was time to call it a night. As much as I wanted to keep asking her questions, I knew I would see her again on Friday and get my chance then. I packed away the mitts as she did the same with her things, tucking them all neatly away into her black Nike bag. I found myself starring at her, wondering what kind of man she had been married to for so long and then decided it wasn’t working.

“Thanks for the interesting session. I needed that. Still cool with this setup?” she inquired, snapping me from my wandering thoughts. I met her gaze, looking at those piercing blue eyes that almost appeared to be white, giving her smile as I picked up my shirt from the bench and held it in my sweaty palms.

“I’m definitely cool with this setup.”

“Good. I’ll see you on Friday, Jooheonie.”

She gave me a wink after giving me her own nickname, spinning around and leaving me standing there a little dumbfounded. If I hadn’t been so flushed from the workout, she would have seen the blush that crept up along my cheeks. I shook it off, moving to go lock the door behind her after she was long gone. This was the last thing I had expected to happen when I accepted an after hours gig.

What have you gotten yourself into, Jooheonie?

#jooheon scenarios #monsta x scenarios #lee jooheon #jooheon fluff #kpopwonderlandtag #monsta x fluff #monsta x #jooheon fanfic #monsta x fanfic #jooheon imagines #monsta x imagines #jooheon angst #monsta x angst

[this-otaku-gore]

We can Be a family

Here have this garbage I wrote a while ago StarDew Vallet ElliottXFarmer MPREG famfic

Lysander angrily ripped apart yet another letter, his husband watched him in concern.

“Ly...” Elliott said as he placed the dishes back into the sick and walked over and wrapped his arms around him. “Don’t think too hard about them okay?” He asked slowly taking the pieces. Elliot looked at some of the writing that was still intact. He sighed as he saw it was another letter from Lysander’s parents. He didn’t know much about Lysander’s parents, he did know they got into a fight right before he had moved to stardew valley.

“I’m going to help out the wizard.” Lysander said as he walked away from the table.

“If you go into town be careful, Coraline and Jody are on the prowl.” Elliott said.

“Ah yeah.” Lysander laughed “I mentioned I was thinking about a baby and they were all over me. Giveing pamphlets and all that stuff.” Elliot laughed as Lysander left.

Lysander was in the fields tending to the crops, he suddenly felt ill. He put his hand over his mouth as he convulsed and tried to run into the house. He fell and vomited on the ground before him. Elliott ran out of the house and threw himself down next Lysander. He rubbed his back and he continued to vomit.

Once he had lost everything in his stomach he limply fell against Elliot as he was heavily breathing.

“Damn Ly.” Elliott said as he stroked Lysander’s head

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what's wrong with me.”

“It's okay you just need some rest.” Lysander shook his head.

“I threw up yesterday and the day before.”

“Ly.” Elliott sounded concorde. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought it was a bug hoping it would be gone.”

“Why don’t you go into town and see Harvey, i’ll change the bed sheets.”

“I’m...” Lysander was choking on his words, Elliot rubbed his eyes. He was just awoken from a nap after his husband had returned from the doctor. “I’M PREGNANT!” He yelled, Elliot jumped out of bed, he pulled his husband in for a kiss before dropping to his knees and rubbed his face against lysander’s belly.

“A baby.” Elliot laughed laughed “A baby in your belly.” He sounded like a kid as he peppered kisses over Lysander’s belly. “I can’t wait to tell everyone.”

“You can do that i’m going to get something to eat.” Lysander said as he left for the kitchen. Elliot jumped up and followed him quickly sliding in front of Lysander,

“There are things you aren't going to put in your body.” Elliott said

“Elliott.” Lysander groaned

“Our baby is going to be healthy, i’ll make you something.” Elliott said as he rummaged in the fridge handing Lysander an apple before pulling other items out. Lysander soon finished his apple and looked back over at Elliot who was busy cooking.

Once he was finished he gave Lysander a bowl full of beef stew. He quickly ate it, Elliot looked back an smiled.

“Someone is hungry.” Elliott said as he rubbed Lysander’s belly. “You do have to be careful of what you eat or you’ll gain too much weight.”

“I can work it off in the field...the plants.” Lysander looked out the window.

“I’ll take care of them.”  He said as he kissed Lysander “You just eat and take care of yourself.”

Lysander looked at himself in the mirror. He grabbed and poked at his belly, he wasn't showing but his abs were now gone and replaced with flab. Elliot watched him from the bedroom with fondness.

“Am I still...am I still cute?” Lysander asked

“Of course you are. If anything your belly is cute too.” Lysander smiled as he rubbed his belly.

“Hear that daddy said you were cute. Now you have to grow nice and big for him.”

“And if there is more than one of you, make room for you sibling.” Elliott said surprising Lysander as he put his hands over Lysander’s belly.

“We should pick out a name.” Elliot said as he kissed Lysander’s neck.

“I like Vivian for a girl.”

“Then how about Valdis for a boy. We can call the baby V till they are born.”

“I like that.” Lysander said as he nuzzled against Elliot.

Lysander stared down at yet another letter from his parents. He put his hand over his belly, it had grown a sizable amount. He still was in his normal back shirt but it was now tight on his belly. He sighed, not knowing if he finally caved or if it was hormones but he opened up the letter and read it.

It was just them saying they wanted to hear from him. He was never going to reply to him as he was thinking of the last time he saw his parents.

“I’m going to live in grandpa’s old house.”

“You are not!” Lysander’s father yelled

“Why?” Lysander asked as he tried to get in through the door of the house.

“My father was a no good lazy bum who died without a penny to his name. If you are going to live in this world you need to work for someone else.” Lysander huffed

“Doesn't matter i’m doing it.” He said. Lysander’s dad shoved him

“You're never going to get anywhere in your life, if you leave you better not speak to us again. You ungrateful little shit.”

“Shut up old man.” Lysander said, his dad punched him sending him to the comment. He could hear his mother crying from within the house.

“GET OFF MY PROPERTY!” His father yelled Lysander said nothing as he got up and left hoping to never seeing them again.

Lysander winced and put his hand underneath his belly. He felt arms wrap around him and take the letter from him and crumpled it up.

“Stress is not good for the baby.” Elliott said, he was trying to rip apart every letter from Lysander's folks before he could get to it. He did tell  him after, the stress of whatever happened between the two seemed too intense for his frail condition. He moved his free hand to cup the lower part of Lysander’s belly and he stroked it with his index finger.

“I know...I normally don’t read them.” He sighed “But I don’t need my parents when I have you.” Lysander said as he kissed Elliott.

Lysander was placing a large stuffed rabbit in the baby’s room. It was another gift from the people in town. Everyone was so excited to have a new life brought into the small valley. Elliott soon followed. He was never far from Lysander now the moment he had to start buying new shirts.

Lysander's belly was much larger now. He was having a harder time moving around Elliot watched as he slowly rose back to his feet but halfway he stopped. Lysander put his hand on his belly as his eyes widened.

“Elliot.” He murmured but Elliott rushed to Lysander's side and out his hand on Lysander’s belly. He felt a firm kick against his hand. He smiled wide as the baby moved and shifted under his hand. Elliott sniffed and wiped away his tears as they fell from his eyes.

Lysander was sitting on the floor he was slowly stroking his belly. He ran his finger over his belly button that now stuck out from his body. It was noticeable under his shirt, Elliott thinks it was the cutest thing. He felt the baby kick against his hand, Lysander smiled as he pat the place wher

e he felt the baby kick. The baby kicked back, and kicked back hard. The skin on Lysander’s belly stuck out

“Owww don’t do that, that hurts daddy...” There was a loud thump and Elliott ran into the living room. He looked panicked

“LY!” He yelled, Lysander laughed as he leaned back and rubbed his belly.

“V was just kicking me a little hard.” Lysander winked, Elliott still looked worried as he sat down and rubbed Lysander’s belly.

“V be nice to your daddy, your a rare occurrence be nice to him.” He said as leaned down and kissed Lysander’s belly a soft kick was placed against his lips.

“Hey V, do you like your daddy more than me?” Lysander asked Elliot laughed as he nuzzled the belly.   

Elliott has his head resting on Lysander’s belly. He tried not to put too much pressure on it. He had a notebook next to him as he wrote out bullet points for his next book. He laughed quietly when he felt the baby kick the back of his head. Lysander rubbed the part of his belly that was not covered by Elliots head.

“Do you wanna know what happened between me and my parents.” Lysander said, Elliot looked up at Lysander and frowned.

“No, that will cause you too much stress.”

“It causes me stress having it on my chest, you have been completely honest with me and you don’t know anything about them.”

“I know they are shit heads, that's all I need.” He said

“You're not wrong. My dad hated my grandfather and when I said I was coming to live out here they kicked me out.”

“You were still living with your parents and 20.”

“Yeah, they didn’t let me move out but they kicked me out and told me never to speak to them again.”

“Now out of nowhere they want to be in your life.” Elliot sighed “Shit heads.” He said as he moved and put his hand on Lysander's belly. “I’ll protect you from your mean grandparents. They won't ever be in your life for long.” He said as he kissed Lysander’s belly.

Lysander was sitting on the floor watching TV, he was softly rubbing his belly when there was a ring at the door. Elliott had gone into town to get a few items for dinner and new fertilizer.

“Gimmie a minute.” Lysander called out as he slowly rose to his feet. He grabbed the door and the moment he turned it the door flew open and his father stood there a scowl on his face. Lysander stepped back as his parents shoved their way into his home. Lysander’s father looked down and his face became red with rage as he saw Lysander’s belly. He quickly threw his arms over his belly in defence. Lysander’s mother put her hand over her mouth

“Lysander how could you do this to us.” His father said, his voice was full of disappointment and rage

“We raised you better than this.” His mother said as she lowered her hand. “Why did you do this to us.”  Lysander ran his hand through his hair and laughed

“Why? How about the fact you two kicked me out and told me to never speak to you again!”

“For fuck sake Lysander look at you.” His father gestured to Lysander’s large belly “You're pregnant!”

“So? You threw me out and sold all of my belongings!”

“Do NOT talk to me and your mother like that. We are you parents and grandparents of that baby of a penniless bum inside you.”

“Elliot is not a bum!” Lysander was furious “He has been nothing but kind to me, and all you people do is cause me stress. Which is bad for MY baby.”

“You are our baby Lysander. We love you.” His mother spoke

“Where was that love when you kicked me out with only 500g huh?”  Lysander stepped back again, his hands were placed firmly in defence on his belly.

“Lysander please we want you in our lives again, we want your baby in our lives.”

“Elliot and I don’t want you in our baby’s life, and I don’t want you back in mine.”

“I SAID DO NOT TALK TO ME OR YOUR MOTHER LIKE THAT!” Lysander’s father raised his hand in anger. As he brought it down Elliott ran in front of Lysander and took the hit, he glared at Lysander’s father.

“Get out of my house.” Elliott demanded

“How dare you!” Lysander’s father yelled, Elliott balled his fist

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” He demanded again. Lysander’s father opened his mouth to say something but he punched him in the face sending him to the floor. He held his cheek and looked up at Elliot before he rose to his feet gave Elliott a glare before him and LYsander’s mother leave.

“Those were my parents.”

“Shit heads.” Elliott said, he looked back at Lysander. “You feeling okay.”

“Ye-” Lysander stopped and grabbed ahold of Elliott’s shoulder as a piercing pain rippled through his body “Am-am I in Labor?!” Lysander asked scared, Elliott pulled him as close as he could get and placed his hand firmly on Lysander’s belly.

“No, just a hick that's all but seeing your folks must have been too much stress for your weak body.” Elliott said. “Why don't you take a nap while I get dinner ready.”

Lysander walked into the living room after he had just gotten out of the bath. Lysander slowly started to sit down.

“Hey.” Elliott stood up “Sebastian was here, he wants to know if you wanted to go hang out with him and Sam.” Elliott said. Lysander stopped trying to sit and stood up straight. “You haven’t been out much this past few months.” Lysander laughed as he rubbed his belly

“I do feel like I am getting cabin fever.”

“It would be good for V to meet others.”   Lysander walked over and struggled to get his shoes on.  Elliott resisted the urge to get up and help him. Once he had gotten his shoes on he waved goodbye to Elliott.

Lysander stopped as he made it to the outside of the house he was panting and holding his belly. He grunted as he continued inside, Robin and Demetrius were talking behind the counter. The moment he walked in they stopped and stared at him

“Oh look at how big you are.” Robin cheered happily and she ran over to him “My I?” She asked, lysander nodded as she gleefully rubbed his belly. “Boy or girl?”

“Don’t know, we want it to be a surprise.” Lysander laughed

“Oh I wish my little Sebby would give me grandchildren.” She laughed ”Oh right he's down stairs sorry for distracting you.” She said, Lysander waved as he went downstairs. Before he opened the door he put his hand over his belly as the baby kicked and moved around.

“V come on.” He sighed as he felt the baby slow down. He nervously opened the the door. Sam put down the comic he was reading and Sebastian looked toward the door.

“Hey.” Sebastian said as he  got out of his chair. “It's been a long time since i’ve seen you.” He said, Lysander thought it would have been awkward but Sebastian was pretty normal.

“Holy shit your stomach is huge Lysander.” Sam said, Sebastian glared at him.

“Sam don’t be rude. Come on let's play a game.” He said, Lysander slowly tried to sit his belly causing him some trouble. Sam and Sebastian exchanged looks before Lysander slowly sat down.

“So Elliott breathing down your neck?” Sam asked

“Sam!”

“No it's okay, he's pretty protective over me and V.”

“V?” Sebastian asked

“Oh that's what we are calling the baby.”

“That's cute.” Sebastian said. Lysander inhaled sharply inhaled and put his hand on his belly. Sam bolted up and he looked panicked.

“WHAT IS HAPPENING!” He yelled, once the pain subsided he laughed.

“No it's okay V just kicked in the wrong place.” Sam looked embarrassed as he sat down again.

“Must be tough.” Sebastian said

“It hurts from time to time but I do what I can. Elliott is really excited about it.” He laughed “It's hard to keep his hands off my belly.” He smiled

“Well let's get started then.” Sebastian said as he pulled out the game board

“Man that was a good game Ly.” Sebastian said, Lysander laughed

“Sorry about me stopping ever so often to pee.”

“Well your bladder must be crushed under V.” Sam said

“We'll have to teach V to play when they are older.” Sebastian laughed

“Yeah, its getting late better get home before Elliot runs a rampage in the town looking for me.” This time Sam helped Lysander to his feet. As he was walking up the stairs he stopped as pain rippled through his belly. He groaned as he bent over and out a little pressure on his belly.

“D-did V kick again?” Sam asked

“N-no It was j-just a hick.” He said

“H-hick?”

“A braxton hick, false contraction. I mean I am at the last few weeks.”

“Shit you're at the last few weeks?” Sebastian looked panicked as he got close to Lysander. “Shit man you didn’t have to come.”

“I wanted too.” Robin walked past the stairs and stopped and walked back and looked down at Lysander who was on the stars.

“OH MY GOD DID YOUR WATER BRAKE!?” She yelled as she ran down the stairs.

“No, just a hick.” He said as she helped him to his feet.

“Sabby let's help him home.” Robin said, Sebastian said nothing as he helped Lysander up the stairs.

“Hey Ly you awake?” It was late at night and Lysander had trouble sleeping. He turned to Elliot who had his head propped up on his hand.

“Yeah i’m awake.” He said

“I’ve been reading and if you don’t need a c section think you could have the baby here?” He asked “it’d have to be in a smaller room like my study. Lysander felt Elliott's other hand drift over to Lysander’s bare belly and he stroked it lovingly. Lysander smiled as he put his hand over Elliotts.

“As long as you're with me.” Lysander snuggled closer to Elliott. When Elliott took his hand of Lysander’s belly the baby started to move around and kick again. Lysander started to scream.

It was the spring dance, Lysander was sitting Next to Elliott and George. This was his first time being out and about so much since he found out about his pregnancy. George was being nice to him too, he was also thankful he didn’t see his parents since Elliott slugged them. Harvey stopped and talked to the two for a bit. Lysander was not due till next week but early labor could happen if something happens.

Once the dance was over lysander felt a bit of discomfort. As he slowly rose to his feet the discomfort turned to pain. He grabbed Elliots shoulder and balled his coat in his fist.

“Ly?” Elliott asked, Lysander grunted in pain. “Ahh ah AHHH!” He yelled out in pain, liquid poured down Lysander’s pants.

“V...V is coming...” He groaned, Elliott was in a picnic, Harvey rushed to Lysander’s side as slowly helped him walk but just as they reached the exit Lysander screamed as pain rippled through his body.

“Lysander?” Harvey asked

“H-hurry!” He yelled as he gripped his belly

“I-i think your contractions are too close together.” Harvey said

“I AM NOT HAVING V IN THE WOODS!” Lysander yelled, Elliott grabbed Lysander and held him in his arms.

Lysander let out a loud scream, He had his fists balled in Elliott’s shirt as he pushed.

“Lysander the shoulders are next, that's the most difficult part.” Harvey said

“Ly...Ly come on it's okay, it's okay. You want to hold V in your arms right?” Elliott said as he stroked Lysander’s sweaty cheek. With one more scream and push there was another cry heard in the room. Lysander felt hot tears well up in his eyes, Havray left the room, after a few moments Lysander slowly sat up. Elliott quickly helped Lysander sit up as they waited for Hearvy to return.

Hearvy returned into the room with a little blue bundle.

“I-is that.” Lysander begane. The budle was placed into his arms.

“Meet your newborn son.” Harvey said, he watched the two for a moment before he left out the door

“Hey there Valdis.” Elliott said. The baby cooed, Elliott started to cry as he extended his finger and the baby grabbed ahold of Elliot's finger. “You did good Ly, hes so cute.” Elliott said as he cried.

#Mpreg #Mpreg fanfic #Unbetaed #plz look at my sin #$tnx #mpreg labor

[mythomagically-delicious]

Back in Time

Dipper ‘accidentally’ turns Stan into his 30 year old self. He was aiming to fully turn his Grunkle back into a kid, just for a few days, so his Grunkle would remember what it was like and maybe cut Dipper some slack one in a while. But instead the thing he’d given Stan turned back the clock on him, making Stan wake up in his 30 year old body, with only memories up until that point in his life, and nothing past it.

Thirty year old Stan still feels the fresh wound of losing Ford.

When Stan wakes up the first thing he feels is hunger. Followed by pain from his shoulder he can’t place. And then emptiness and a deeper sorrow—remembering what he’d done to Ford.

Stan yells, fighting his way out of the covers, crashing to the floor. He looked around, confused. It looked like he was still in the Hut, but everything was slightly…off. Before he could figure out why, he heard a series of thumps from the stairs and reached under the bed for his baseball bat and rushed to listen at the door.

He heard indistinct shouting and prepared himself for a fight. He opened the door and yelled, raising the bat up, preparing to strike. On the other side of the door were two small faces, kids, yelling back in surprise. Stan dropped his bat immediately, but glanced behind them, still checking for threats.

(He’d only had to deal with a couple of old ‘pals’ sniffing around since he faked his death. It’d been a while, sure, but that’s no reason to get cocky).

“Grunkle Stan?” came the girl’s voice, confused.

Stan was shocked—how do they know me?

“I’m not sure what a ‘grunkle’ is, but you got the name right, kiddo.” Stan thought quickly and asked “Are you guys here for a tour? You’re not supposed to be back here. And we don’t open yet.”

It was the only explanation he could come up with that didn’t freak him out too much. Because if he looked at the boy too long, he started seeing Ford in his features. And that was crazier than any of the weird shi—er, stuff, he’d seen around the forest so far.

Suddenly the boy turned to his sister—they had to be related, they could even be twins—(Stan shut that thought down quick as it came) and started explaining something quickly, waving his arms and clicking a pen that seemed to materialize out of nowhere.

“Mabel! It was the plant—the one we put in his cola—it had to be! It turned him young, just not young enough. But I guess he doesn’t remember being old, so that’s a problem too…” he trailed off and looked thoughtfully at Stan.

Stan, who’d only caught every third word or so, was trying to work out if he’d been poisoned by these kids when the girl spoke.

“Right! Okay, here’s the deal Mr. Stan. My name’s Mabel, and this is my twin brother, Dipper.” Stan felt himself choke on his breath when she confirmed they were twins, but she plowed on, hardly noticing. “Our parents sent us to Gravity Falls, Oregon to live with our great uncle for the summer. That’s you.” She pointed finger guns at him and continued, her braces glinting in the hall light.

“Most of the time you’re a grumpy old man, like a million or sixty or something, but you’ve got a gooey marshmallow heart and you love taking care of Dip-Dop and me! We’ve had some crazy adventures this summer, and you’ve probably had fun too, running this place and ordering Soos and Wendy around. We’re all family here and it’s great! You gave us the creepy attic room and make Stancakes every morning and don’t pay for a lot and you use your smoke bombs to avoid people, and smell like old man cream, but we love you!” She finished her speech, smiling sweetly.

Stan felt like his head was gonna explode. He asked the one question that burned through the haze, though. “Whose kids are ya?”

Dipper—yeesh, that isn’t really his name, right?—answered. “We’re your great niece and great nephew.” At Stan’s lost look Dipper explained further. “You know, Grandpa Shermie.”

Stan took that info and sighed. So the kids don’t know about me, he thought with relief. That’ll make this bit easier.

“Wait a second—you’re Sam’s kids?” Stan asked, blown away at what these kids were saying. “No way, he’s twelve, almost thirteen. I just talked to him at the—er, a few weeks ago.”

The boy narrowed his eyes at Stan’s almost slip-up (I still don’t know if they know about their other uncle yet) but the girl just laughed.

“Wow! Dad at twelve, just like us, Dipper! Did he look like a nerd?”

“What does a ‘nerd’ look like?”

“Like Dipper, but with glasses.”

“Hey!”

Mabel laughed again and booped her brother on the nose. “’Beep-boop, I am a nerd!’ That’s you, Dipper.”

The two argued and laughed for a moment but Stan’s head spun. Yeah, this is the best proof we’re related, he thought. I can’t believe I’m in the future. It still feels like 1984 to me.

“What year is it?” Stan interrupted.

The twins shared a long look. They had what looked like a quick mental conversation before Dipper answered, “2012.”

Stan did the math. Nearly 30 years. Have I got him back yet?

“So, thirty years, huh? How big has the family got since I was this old?”

Mabel took the lead. “Well, there’s us and mom and dad, Grandpa Shermie and Grandma Reb, mom’s relatives, and you!”

Stan felt his heart sink. I still haven’t got him back. It’s been thirty years—I’m the worst brother in the world. Stan felt his eyes overload with tears. He tried pushing them back but it was no use. He turned away from the kids and towards his room, trying to hide. But then he heard both kids gasp and he turned back, confused.

“Grunkle Stan,” Mabel whispered, horror lining her face, tears already falling. “What’s on your shoulder?”

At the reminder Stan felt the wound flair with pain. Stan sighed. “Nothing, kid. Look, I need a few moments to take this all in. Why dontcha go downstairs and pour some cereal or something—get breakfast started?”

Dipper and Mabel were both stuck, just staring.

“Now, ya little gremlins!” Stan yelled, voice a bit hoarse, and that got the kids moving.

Stan closed his door and looked around, trying to take stock of what was different between 58 year old Stan Pines and 28 year old Stan Pines.

The room was dark and messy. He saw some of the old man cream Mabel was talking about. He read the label—it was for joint pain. Makes sense, especially if that business from ’78 is what’s causing it, Stan thought. He picked his way around the room, trying to figure out what his next move should be. He spotted some advanced physics and math books sitting beneath a dirty pair of pants on the dresser. He saw an old “Employee of the Month” placard and an unfamiliar picture of a young man in the frame.

Why is that in here, not in the store? I put myself in the frame for a boost. Why’d old me keep it if it’s someone new?

Stan found the picture right where he hoped he would, glad it was still safe. Ford and him when they were kids. The photo he’d found when he’d actually been able to go through the entire house a couple months in. Stan checked the time—he should find some clothes and head downstairs—no telling what those kids would do—and figure out how close he is to bringing Ford back.

Nothing in his closet currently fit in the slightest. He sighed, resigning himself to underwear and a dirty tank top when he saw the box beside his bed. It looked ancient and dusty, except for the top, which looked like it had been brushed off recently. On top in wobbly marker it read “FOR HIS RETURN” and nothing else.

Carefully Stan opened the box and there he found the clothes he’d carefully packed away for Ford not six months ago. He remembered placing all the boxes in the attic space, unable to bear letting Ford’s things be eaten by the passage of time. Stan looked through the box and realized these are the only clothes that would work.

Stan attended to the burn first. It was still glowing orange, despite having been burned into him two years ago. Apparently that grate was just as sci-fi weird as the portal itself, and left the injury much longer than a normal burn would.

Then he picked out a button up and a pair of pants from his brother’s box. It was tripping Stan out that these clothes were over thirty years old and yet perfectly for him. He tried not to think about it. Stan checked himself in the mirror. He felt more like a fraud than ever.

He went downstairs to face the kids again. When he heard them whispering in the kitchen, however, he paused at the stairway to listen.

“No, Dipper! I don’t think telling him stuff will change the past. He just looks super young now. We didn’t bring him through time with us.”

“Mabel, still! He probably thinks like he’s thirty. He’s gonna get overloaded if we just keep telling him about the future! I mean present, ugh. Time travel mechanics are ridiculous!”

“Cheer up, Dip-Dop! At least this time no Time Cops are gonna be after us or challenge us to Globnar to the death or anything! It was just something he ate.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Stan came into the kitchen, shutting down the conversation between Mabel and Dipper as he did so. They ate a quiet breakfast of sneaky sideways glances and cereal. Stan tried organizing his thoughts, but it all came back to the same thing.

Stan needed to get into the basement ASAP. Above all else. He needed to know how close he was to bringing Ford back. To know if he ever just…gave up. He decided to believe the kids based off the weird conversation about paradoxes and time travel in the kitchen. Only two years here, and even Stan could see that anything was possible in Gravity Falls. These kids had apparently been here for almost two months and they already knew that. These kids were quick. And, from the little bit Stan had seen of them, just like he and Ford used to be. Close as can be, best friends, a great team.

“Alright, kids, give me the grand tour,” Stan said once the dishes were stacked haphazardly by the sink, wanting to know exactly what had changed in 28-some years. The first answer came as Mabel yelled the new apparent name of his tourist trap.

“Right! Everyone line up! Mystery Shack Tours are starting now!” Mabel yelled, getting Dipper to stand behind him to point out anything she missed. Together they pointed out areas of interest with a few truly disturbing stories to go along with it. Like the living room where their Grunkle Stan saved them from a zombie attack a few weeks ago. Or the spot in the roof that they had to fix because Lil’ Gideon bulldozed it when he stole the deed to the Shack.

“Some twerpy kid stole the house from me?” Stan practically screamed at Dipper and Mabel. He began to panic, imagining what would’ve happened to Ford if no one knew he was there. It took a long time to calm him down—Mabel ran to the kitchen to make him hot chocolate. Dipper led him to his yellow chair (still there, nice) and helped him sit and breathe. Turns out Stan does get panic attacks, but only since living in Ford’s old house.

When he calmed down, the kids assured him that everything was right where they’d left it. Stan was too embarrassed to comment.

“Look kids, can I have a few minutes to look around, get my bearings? A lot’s changed in the Hut since I remember it. Maybe you kids can go out and play for a little while. I promise I’ll be fine.”

Dipper and Mabel agreed. They went out, arguing about ways to use the same plant to age him back up. Stan ran to the gift shop as soon as they were out of sight.

Spying the vending machine, he crossed his fingers and put in what he hoped the code still was.

A-1-2-B-C-3

It opened. Stan breathed a sigh of relief and rushed downstairs, heaving the vending machine closed behind him. He ran down the steps to the elevator and finally out into the secret basement.

Stan was amazed. He’d done so much in all that time. Looking around he felt his legs give out, and he sat heavily in a nearby desk chair. The other two journals. They are right there. Stan felt like crying. That’s when he realized something was different—there was a hum in the air, like, like—

The portal was turned on.

Not only that, but it was counting down to operation. If all of this was correct, Stan was about 16 hours away from finally getting Ford back.

He cried. Tears of joy and anticipation. He held each copy of the Journals with reverence and awe.

Then he saw the photo on the desk. It was of Dipper and Mabel. Obviously taken this summer—on a boat? Did Stan have a boat—was it called…?

He finally got to see what he looked like as the old man the kids had been talking about all day. He shuddered at how much he looked like his own old man. Then he noticed his expression. He could see how much love Old Stan had for the kids. Even for the short time he’d known them, this Stan already loved them too.

He couldn’t lie to them about the machine. He wouldn’t know where to start.

Stan left everything as is, but took the framed photograph with him. He called for the kids to come on inside.

So Stan told them a story. A story of two brothers growing up by the beach. Twins who always had each other…until they didn’t. One with five fingers on each hand, one with six fingers on each hand. Dipper yelled, “Like the author!” at that and pulled out Journal 3 to show him.

Stan told them about the fight, the brother getting kicked out, the hard ten years alone; briefly, that is, it was still painful to think about. Then getting a post card for Gravity Falls, Oregon one day after ten years of silence. The brother went to his twin’s side.

“He wanted to help, you see,” Stan told them. “But just like before, the younger twin, Lee, was a screw-up and disappointment. He’d threatened to burn his brother’s Journal to get rid of the dangerous information it contained. Sixer attacked Lee, and they fought viciously. Sixer pushed Lee into a burning grate of the machine he’d built in the basement, burning him. Branding him.” Stan flexed his shoulder blade and felt the ache spread across his back once more.

“Then Lee did the worst thing he’d done yet. He picked up the journal and punched his brother, who’d stopped fighting when he’d pushed him into the fiery grate, back towards the machine they’d accidentally turned on in the fight. Lee told him ‘You care more about your dumb mysteries than your family. If you love them so much, then you can have them!’ and pushed Sixer and the book over the safety line. Sixer floated up towards the machine, pulled into a new center of gravity. Lee realized they’d gone too far too late (again). Sixer called out for help, throwing the book back down screaming in terror, “Save me, Lee, help me! Do something, Lee—“and was pulled into the machine—a portal to another world. Lee did all he could to bring Sixer back, but it was no use. The machine refused to become active again. Lee worked until the pain from his branded wound made him pass out from the pain.”

“Lee had pushed his own brother into exile and almost certain death. He couldn’t let his brother stay there. So he started to search. Search for the other two Journals, learning his brother’s levels of science, math, physics, calculus, space, technology, machines, and more. Lee faked his death and took Sixer’s name as his own so no one would know what happened. This meant he could stay in his twin’s house and work every day and night to save his brother’s life.”

“The brothers’ names were Stanley and Stanford Pines. Stanford was older, and born with six functional fingers on each hand. And a genius. Stanley was younger and had five fingers on each hand. Only good for holding his brother back, a worthless, brainless screw-up.” Stan shifted uncomfortably as he made his final confession, no more story to hide behind.

“I am Stanley Pines. I pushed my brother Stanford into the portal two years ago, and I have worked every day of the last two years to get him back.”

“Your Stan has been working for thirty years. Now he is fourteen hours away. He has all three Journals, finally, and the machine is counting down to be activated as we speak. I—I’m finally going to see my brother again.”

Stan’s eyes filled with tears and he let them fall. The kids were staring open-mouthed at him. Dipper had been anxiously clicking a pen all throughout Stan’s story, but at Stan’s final confession, it had fallen from his hand. Mabel had her grip tightened around the edge of her sweater, bunching it in her fingers and letting it go, as if the motion would help her process everything her Grunkle had just said.

Dipper and Mabel had a bajillion questions and didn’t quite believe what they were told until Stan showed them the newspaper clippings and photos and fake IDs and other proof of what he’d said. Including showing them his burn again. Intentionally, this time.

 Dipper said the effect of the plant they put in his coffee would run out on its own over the course of the next couple days. Stan knows he’ll have to greet Ford tonight as is. Mabel said they’ll both be right by his side, tonight, to help explain and smooth things over.

Stan could see so much of Sam in the pair of them. He’d kept calling the kid just like he’d promised since the ‘funeral’. Stan could tell he was a real smart kid, with a bright future ahead of him. Looking at Sam’s kids, his twins, Stan could practically cry with how proud of the kid he was. He remembered that Sam had been the most decent one at the service, despite only being nearly a teen. It felt good to know he’d been right about Sam.

It boggled his mind to realize that now Sam was older than him. Even worse, in his current state, Ford was 28 years older than Stan.

But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was Stanford being back, Stan thought. Everything else will figure itself out afterwards. Now they wait, and Stan gets to know his family again.

#wanawp #me writing things #stanley pines #de aged stanley #gf au #stan pines #dipper and mabel #stan and dipper and mabel #nwhs au #gravity falls #gf #stan's burn #stan's tattoo #nwhs #grunkle stan #sam pines #tiny bit haha #will ford still punch him on his way out #if it looks like no time had passed in his home dimension #OR #will he think he entered another parallel earth #? #stanford pines #stan has some self-worth issues that kinda trickle out #blames himself a lot #dipper pines #mabel pines #happy birthday kids! #de aging plant in the woods #the weirdness of gravity falls

[shutupandblog]

cute tags

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? // more milk! 2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? // YES OMG YES. 3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? // forks, notes, socks....anything I find in that moment... 4: how do you take your coffee/tea? // tea: just with water. coffee: flavoured creamer.... 5: are you self-conscious of your smile? // YEAH. 6: do you keep plants? // my mom forces her plants onto me so I have unexpected children to take care of. 7: do you name your plants? // no, I'll feel bad if I forget their names. 8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? // songwriting 9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? // sing out loud, man. but yeah. 10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? // fall asleep on back easiest but wake up on my side. 11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? // innovation at its finest, man. 12: what's your favorite planet? // saturn 13: what's something that made you smile today? // finding some of my old songs and realizing that they're not ALL lost. I was a genius in 2014 and backed it up on usb wow 14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? // open concept omf hit me with the natural light and big windows. no walls. big kitchen. no curtains. piano. hardwood. pictures in frames. 15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! // "The Apollo astronauts' footprints on the moon will probably stay there for at least 100 million years." Source: https://www.google.ca/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=3&ved=0ahUKEwji75-ZwYXXAhWqxFQKHSroDssQFggxMAI&url=http%3A%2F%2Fmashable.com%2F2014%2F03%2F05%2Fsun-stars-space-facts%2F&usg=AOvVaw2BqM1yEL36GBccqMtEtOWs) 16: what's your favorite pasta dish? // i don't normally eat pasta so every time i see pasta i'll take anything. 17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? // grey and lavender. 18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. // 19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? // i keep a lyric dump journal! 20: what's your favorite eye color? // GREEN 21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. // my navy backpack was with my throughout high school and ib and i'm still using it in uni, so it's been to hell twice. 22: are you a morning person? // hell no 23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? // listen to all my cd's and find new artists...song write...listen to more music... 24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? // yes 25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? // lol none 26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? // threw them out yo 27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? // banana  28: sunrise or sunset? // sunrise 29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? // my one friend has a habit of crossing her legs and tapping her foot that’s in the air when she listens / hums music and it’s sO CUTE. 30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? // yeah. my mom went through a rough time and I hated being awake. 31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. // in general: no socks. Weird socks are cool. I usually take off my socks as soon as I walk in through the front door. If I wear songs, they’re ankle length. Can’t do anything higher than that. I hate tights, I don’t do tights. 32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. // i literally think we woke up at 4 to watch MAMA 2015 together. 33: what's your fave pastry? // i have no idea....bread pudding served on pie crust and ice cream? 34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? // it’s gone. but it was called bonsai and it was a giant ass panda and i miss it. I had to get rid of it because we were moving and its head got ripped off. Or, ripped in half should I say. 35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? // I love them but I never indulge in it!!! alkjngakjdfd 36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? // my mood right now? omg bts - wings. 37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?  // messy. 38: tell us about your pet peeves! // wet bathroom floors, getting my socks wet, sweaty in the winter, when people touch my things and don’t put them back where they are supposed to be so i can’t find it ugh, touching people’s food while doing dishes (SCRAPE YOUR PLATE @ SIBLINGS), people stepping on my shoes, looming too close to me while talking....etc.... 39: what color do you wear the most? // grey, black, pink. 40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? // all my jewelry is meaningless bc I bought it all myself. Ahh- I have this one pearl necklace that my grandpa and dad bought for me in china and I haven’t worn it once. 41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? // gallagher girls series 42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! // i’m not a coffee person 43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? // myself a few mornings ago when I was going to my lab and waiting at the bus stop. 44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? // when i was in hawaii doing the longest hike of my life and finally reaching the “end” of the island and you could see no city. Just sea lions, turtles and water. Dark stones. Wind. It was just myself and it was quiet and it was so beautiful. I have so many videos. 45: do you trust your instincts a lot? // fuck that shit, I got so many q’s wrong on tests because of it. 46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. // gravity sucks. 47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? // onions omf 48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? // the dark. and yeah. 49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? // I LOVE CDs. Last record I bought: paramore- after laughter (i think). 50: what's an odd thing you collect? // cineplex tickets and guitar picks. 51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? // my friend S- I associate her with the song “Tokyo Jellybean” by Ingrid St-Pierre. She’s one of my favourite artists. I have never told her this. 52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? lol cracking a cold one with the boys bc my psych always opens a pop can in the middle of this lecture (ALL THE TIME) and i just get reminded. 53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? only heathers bc my friend showed it to me and I really liked it! 54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? // my friend Y. 55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? // raised my voice? 56: what are some things you find endearing in people? // being completely absorbed in their work, drinking coffee and looking out the bus window, falling asleep in random places. 57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? // uhh i just use this song to check if my right headphone is working lol 58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? // wine mom is T and vodka aunt is Y. I mean, if you meet them you’ll know. 59: what's your favorite myth? // im uneducated 60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? // i like poetry- short poetry. 61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? // I gave cough drops / i received paperclip holders 62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? // i’m a morning water person 63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? // YEAH I AM. Bookshelf man. 64: what color is the sky where you are right now? // black 65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? // no bc if I haven’t seen you in a long time, I’ve probably dropped you. 66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? // baby’s breath, blue bells, daisy. 67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? // I LIVE FOR THOSE DAYS 68: what's winter like where you live? // either snowy heaven or mushy hell 69: what are your favorite board games? // i’m basic, so monopoly. 70: have you ever used a ouija board? / no 71: what's your favorite kind of tea? // oolong or vanilla something.... 72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it? // yeah i really need to 73: what are some of your worst habits? // drop my clothes all over the bedroom floor and leave them there.  74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. // a breath of fresh air 75: tell us about your pets! // i had a goldfish once but on the car ride home to my house it died. 76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? // STUDYING WTF AM I DOING ANSWERING A 100 QUESTION TAG 77: pink or yellow lemonade? // PINK 78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? // i’m a spectator  79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? // painted me fake polaroids and stuck them in a colouring book omg 80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? // tan. it’s the colour of my entire house.  81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. // didn’t pass engl man i can’t do this 82: are/were you good in school? // i WAS 83: what's some of your favorite album art? // rise against, fob, volbeat, ingrid st pierre, ts, bts. 84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? // i’ve always wanted a roman numeral tattoo but i don’t do commitment. 85: do you read comics? what are your faves? // i only read peanuts and archie as a kid 86: do you like concept albums? which ones? // i only listen to pink floyd ..the wall. 87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? // not a movie person. can’t comment. 88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? // idk.... 89: are you close to your parents? // sure 90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. // tokyo omg god save me 91: where do you plan on traveling this year? // the farthest i’ll get is my bed 92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? // barely sprinkles a pinch 93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? // up 94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? // my auntie 95: what are your plans for this weekend? // this weekend is over and so is my academic career 96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? // procrastinate 97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? // 1. don’t know, 2. scorpio, 3. ravenclaw 98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? // real hike: this summer in hawaii, fake hike: w my friends downtown. I loved both times the same. 99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. // Exo- what if/my answer, Taylor- all too well/never grow up, Shawn: running low, Alessia: my song, Bts: sea, Pierre Luc lessard: sans combat 100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? // 5 years in the future. The past 5 years have been hard.

I tag: @kabul1998, @iamnotmadamebovary

#tags

[shizuka-joestar-aotf-blog]

Chapter One ‘Made in Heaven’

-March, 2012, Cape Canaveral, Florida

  ‘The New Moon’ is to occur within the next day or so. The world has suddenly began to accelerate at an increasing pace. Night and day started to feel like minutes passing by. The group comprised of ‘Green Dolphin Street Prison’ inmates Jolyne Kujo, Hermes Costello, and Narciso Annasui accompanied by marine biologist Jotaro Kujo and mysterious child Emporio Alnino are all standing in the on the rooftops of the Kennedy Space Center. They are confronted and attacked by Father Enrico Pucci and the latest evolution of his stand, ‘Made In Heaven’. Emporio makes the quick decision to pull out the ‘Ghost Gun’ from his stand, ‘Burning Down The House’, and fire at Pucci. “It’s no use Emporio! Bullets won’t hit him!” screams Jolyne. “No, Jolyne! I didn’t aim for him, I aimed for the wall of the building across from us!” Emporio states as he pulls out a bullet with one of ‘Kiss’’ stickers on it. “Hermes put a sticker on the bullet! There are two bullets right now!” Emporio grabs on to the others along with the bullet in his hand. “Don’t let go of each other!” Emporio screams as they are all flung away from the building mere seconds before Pucci could strike. He wastes no time at all and instantly gives chase to the now airborne gang.

“It’s him! He’s following us on the ground! Because ‘Kiss’ is a stand, its motions aren’t sped up like everything else!” shouts Hermes. Annasui quickly thinks up a solution to help them defeat the priest. “Emporio! Put another sticker on the next bullet and fire it! Move towards the marshes! Head towards the ocean! If our surroundings are the ocean… there’s one way we can kill him!” Hermes hands Emporio another sticker and he loads the gun. “The priest is already ahead of us!!” exclaims Hermes as she spots Pucci rushing towards the entrance building. “He’s climbed onto the roof!” “Change directions with this next bullet, Emporio! To the ocean! Go towards the marshes!” Emporio fires the bullet at the marshes and they are all flung towards the ocean as Pucci was about to reach them. The priest leaps off the building and catches up with them instantaneously. “He… he’s coming after us again! He’s too fast…!” says the terrified Hermes.

“Listen… He might be able to move freely in this ‘accelerated time’, but he still only has one stand! And its power is probably only above average! He has no choice but to pick us off, one by one. That’s where we have the chance to beat him down! The moment he goes in to kill me…” Annasui says as he turns to Jotaro, “Mr. Jotaro… I’ll give you a ‘signal’. When I do, stop time immediately, and kill that fucker…! The timing for stopping time should be right when his attack hits me.” The gang all looks at Annasui with astounded expressions. “All right…? Don’t stop it before he hits me. Do it after… this is all going to happen quickly! The timing is the most important part! Grasping the timing is crucial! And to do that, we need your ‘Star Platinum’. Both Jotaro and Jolyne acknowledge Annasui’s plan. Hermes and Emporio are still trying to register what he had just said. “Wh… what are you going to do? I… I don’t get it…! What are you saying!?” asks the bewildered and dimmed Emporio. “Annasui… It’s a good idea, but… even though Pucci declared that you’re first on his list, he might not act on his words… logically thinking, I should be the one he should dispose of first.” Jotaro says in rebuttal. “No… my ‘Diver Down’ is still in your body, protecting you, like before. Not just you… in Jolyne, and Emporio, and Hermes, too! In this proximity , my stand can phase inside everyone at once… so, no matter who Pucci attacks first… My Diver Down will take the first blow.” claims Annasui with a stern demeanor as Hermes and Emporio give worried expressions. “And that ‘signal’ should be transferred to you through the sensations from my stand. Do you understand? You have to stop time after he deals the next blow to finish me off!” “Annasui, you… are you going for a draw?!” asks Hermes as Jolyne begins to worry about the situation more. “N… no way! His next attack will definitely kill you!” exclaims Emporio.

Annasui just smirks. “Maybe. But maybe I’ll be able to signal before the blow reaches my vitals… I’ve been having good luck recently… right, Emporio? Ever since I got out of prison, I’ve managed to stay alive… If I can just stay alive, keep this trend… then maybe I’ll ask Jolyne to marry me. Heh, heh… heh…! ...Or, you know, something like that…” Annasui says desperately to make the situation a bit lighter. “All right.” Jolyne says agreeingly. Jotaro and Annasui are flabbergasted with Jolyne's comment. “All right. Annasui… ask me… I’m not saying this because I’m despairing over this situation… Your plan… it still has hope. It’s not darkness that drives you… Even if there’s only one path that we can take, if there’s a hint of hope, then that’s the right path.” Jotaro and Annasui are still speechless from Jolyne’s confession, but Hermes finally breaks the silence as she shouts, “There he is! He’s already on that rock!” Pucci had finally gotten ahead of them and was preparing for an attack. Emporio fires the gun once more and they are sent hurtling towards the water. “Huddle closer!! Comes towards me!” demands Annasui to group the gang together again.

They start seeing something zipping past them at the surface of the ocean, creating great ripples and waves in it’s path. It was Pucci. “He’s going around to the right! H… He’s coming!” Jotaro assesses his surroundings and says “I see… If we’re surrounded by water, because of the waves, it’s easier to see where he’s moving.” “Not yet, Mr. Jotaro…! Don’t stop time yet…! If he gets away, it’s all over! We have to grab him! You have to feel my signal!” Emporio looks up to the dark, gloomy sky to see the clouds quickly flowing past them. “W… Wait a second…! What…!? The clouds, in the sky…! They’re moving really fast, like rockets…! And… what’s going on…?!” A light arises from the horizon, it’s the sun. “The eastern sky is already light! What?! It’s too fast! One hour was supposed to be about two or three minutes… It should have taken at least twenty to thirty minutes for the sun to rise again! No way! The sun is rising at an incredible speed!” Emporio exclaims as the sun ascends fully over the ocean horizon.

Jotaro rolls up his sleeve to see that his wristwatch hands have sped up plenty, as if they were the rotor blades of helicopter in flight. Everyone is terrified by what is happening as they stand in the Atlantic Ocean. “Is time going even faster now?!” Hermes shouts. “I...I can’t see the movement of the waves! The tide is going way too fast! I can’t tell how the priest is moving!” The gang prepares for any incoming attacks for they are all fearing the inevitable. Jolyne calls out her stand, ‘Stone Free’, Hermes summons Kiss, and Emporio loads his ghost gun. “Wh… Where is he planning to attack from!?” screams Hermes. “Get ready! Mr. Jotaro, not yet! Not yet! Wait for my signal!” At that moment, Annasui starts to feel intense pain coming from his chest. He quickly looks down to see that a hand has been forced through his body, this was the priest’s attack! Jotaro quickly identifies the attack and activates his ability, ‘Star Platinum The World’. “Now! Stop time--” Everything in the world suddenly freezes except for Jotaro. He brings out Star Platinum to grab the attacker’s arm. “I’ve got him! Take this, Father Pucci--”  But before he can land the punch, he notices something. “H… He used Jolyne’s stand to…!” Pucci had forcefully moved Jolyne and punched through Annasui’s chest using her stand.

The elevator suddenly drops from the fifty second floor to the first. All the passengers inside are on the ground, vomiting from the instant movement. Elsewhere, a mangaka (manga artist) is trying to work on his panels. “It’s my assistant’s fault! I’m the number one mangaka! There’s no way that I could only have drawn one page in an entire night! There’s no way! No way!” He dips his pen in a capsule of ink. “Ahhhh!!! The ink on the pen dries before I can bring it to the paper! What am I supposed to do?!” The mangaka proceeds to call his publisher. “Yes, hello?! Huh?! There are mangakas who can still make the deadline? Wh, Who the hell is that?! Who the hell can… Rohan Kishibe…” In another part of the world, a family is at the hospital to see their grandfather’s final moments. “He just passed away.” says the doctor. The family starts sobbing, “Grandpa!! Grandpaaa! Waaah!” “Ugh! It… It stinks!” the grandmother claims. Everyone goes running out of the room as the grandfather’s body rapidly deteriorates and emits an awful odor. “Grandpa’s already rotten! Aghhhh!!!”

Birds all over the world are still flying at their natural speed. So are the butterflies, and other insects. Sometimes cats will be unable to land right and hit their head or twist their ankles, but there are no cases of flowers blooming and wilting at unbelievable speeds. “All right? I have a cup here in my hands. As long as I have it in my hands, even if I shake it, nothing out of the ordinary happens. But once I let go of it…” The man lets go of the glass cup and it’s instantly shattered on the floor, as if it were in a comic, but the panel where it shows the object falling was erased. “See? You didn’t see even see it fall! Before you realize it, it’s already broken and shattered on the floor! This is definite proof that time has ‘accelerated’! Everything has sped up, except movements of living organisms!” claims the man. “But you might just be imagining things… I’m a physicist, but no astrological signs nor mathematical evidence exists that time is indeed moving faster!” “I’m imagining things!? Anyone with half a brain can see that it becomes lunchtime in a matter of seconds!” shouts the man in rebuttal. “We recorded everything with a speed gun and all readings were normal!” the physicist calmly states. “No one can even drive cars or ride trains anymore, and sushi chefs are complaining that the fish go bad before they can even make the sushi!” the man screams. The host of the talk show finally cuts in, “Well, unfortunately we’re going to have to cut to the commercials.” “Hey, wait…!” the man demands, “Always with the commercials! Do you really think that now’s a good time?! What the hell do you guys think you’re doing, huh?!” “Television is nothing without commercials.” the host says. “It’s the other way around, idiot!!! And you call yourself a journalist?!” the man shouts in an angry manner. The host makes a snarky remark, “Our priority is to broadcast legit news…!”

Suddenly, time stops. Ocean waves are frozen in place. “Annasui…” Jotaro mutters. He glances behind Jolyne to see the culprit, Father Pucci. “He used Jolyne’s stand to attack Annasui! I was a ‘step’ too late…! Only ‘four more seconds’! If I don’t finish him now, he’ll just hide again in the increased speed of time…! Once time starts moving again, we’ll be finished! I have to get to him while time is still… Only ‘three more seconds’!” Jotaro climbs his way towards Pucci. “‘Two more seconds’!” Something seems odd, as if something changed during this stopped time. Jotaro looks above Jolyne where the priest is and sees a volley of knives aimed straight towards her. One knife has already entered the base of her neck. “Arghhhh!!!” screams Jotaro. “Knives!! While he was falling…! The priest has already thrown them! Just like DIO had once done…!” Jotaro remembers his fight against the curse of the Joestar family, ‘Dio Brando’, back in 1989. That was the toughest fight Jotaro had ever been in to date. Muhammad Avdol, Noriaki Kakyoin, Iggy, they were allies he had lost in that battle. Jotaro wasn’t going to allow himself to meet them just yet.

Jotaro moves up towards Pucci, while pulling out a book from his jacket pocket. The book had one of Kiss’s stickers on it. He placed the book above Jolyne’s head and continues onwards. “Hermes has a lot of potential. Thankfully she gave me that sticker beforehand. I truly love Jolyne, I do. I know she wanted me to be around when she was a child, I wanted that too, but everything I did was for her. Now I have to save the world, no, the universe, for her. ‘One more second’. Jotaro summons Star Platinum once again and hits Pucci with a barrage of punches while shouting “Ora Ora Ora Ora Ora!!” Before he can get a finishing blow off, time resumes. Impact craters start to form on Pucci as he is sent flying upwards. The knives go straight for Jolyne, but the book doubles due to the sticker and it blocks a majority of the knives. A knife plunges into Jolyne’s neck while the other remaining knives hit her near the stomach. Stone Free is deactivated and both Annasui and Jolyne fall into the water. “Hermes, Emporio! Take Jolyne to the shore! Call the ‘Speedwagon Foundation’!” “What about Annasui?!” Emporio asks. “Leave him here! Go!” Hermes and Emporio pick up Jolyne’s body and start heading towards Kennedy Space Center.

Jotaro picks up Annasui and carries him on his back. “I won’t let you die, not yet! Pucci may be injured, but he can still attack!” Behind the two lies the priest in the ocean waters. “I… I have to get up… My r… ribs are broken and my skull is cracked… Jotaro is waiting for me… Wh… When I get up, he’s going to finish me.” Pucci looks up to the sky to see the clouds slowing down. “N...No! My body is sh… shutting down… I have to get to the shore, if I don’t I’ll drown. I have to get to the shore, so I can keep Made in Heaven running. I have to go for Jotaro’s ankle. I… If I cut his ankle, he will trip and won’t be able to catch me.” Pucci slowly rises from the water, bloodied and battered. He activates his stand and zips towards Jotaro. He slices his ankle and Jotaro stumbles. “Star Finger!” Jotaro shouts as Star Platinum’s index and middle finger extend to incredible lengths and stabs Pucci in the leg. Pucci falls into the water screaming in pain. “B… Bastard! How did you know I was coming!?” “Annasui’s not fully unconscious, his Diver Down’s still active. You can’t hurt me Pucci. You already lost.” Jotaro claims.

“Th… The Joestar bloodline drew strength from their pride and courage to conquer their fate… Y… You damn Joestars… I cannot let Lord DIO lose, not again…” Pucci mutters to himself. “What you have done is despicable. I feel no ounce of remorse towards you. Finishing you off by beating you to death would leave a bad taste in my mouth. If you come at me, I’ll just throw Star Platinum at you. What will it be? Being beaten to death… or drowning in your own sorrow, your own mistakes?” “ Heh… Jotaro, you are just doing this for your family… I am doing this for God! I was placed on this Earth to fix the Lord’s mistakes… To wipe this planet clean, to start a new… Caring about a bad taste in your mouth or living with no regrets… That kind of reasoning is about as compelling as something like having rat shit smeared on your walls… That will be your demise! I wish to keep those thoughts locked out. Within my mind is just one true thought. Just one. To shape a new world in DIO’s vision. And how I do it… Does not matter!” Pucci suddenly whips a small wooden cross into Jotaro’s eye. “Arrghhhh!!!” Pucci smirks, “Lord DIO told me about this trick, blinding your enemies. Maybe he will teach me more in the new universe. Time to die, Jotaro Kujo!” Pucci goes in for a strike against Jotaro. Jotaro closes his bloodied eyes and sends Star Platinum forward. Star Platinum and Made in Heaven’s fists collide together, locking each other in place. Star Platinum’s fist starts to crack open, releasing blood from Jotaros hand. Pucci grins, before having his hand rip open. “What!?” Screams Pucci in disbelief. Star Platinum goes in for a finishing blow. “ORA!!” He shouts as his fist goes through Pucci’s stomach and out the other side.

The priest falls into the water, coughing up blood while his internal organs spill out from his abdomen. “Pucci, You let your passion for DIO consume you. He tamed you with his devious charisma. That is why you failed.”

-March, 2012, Father Enrico Pucci… Utterly Defeated

#jojo #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo stands #jojo spoilers #jjba #fanfic #fanfiction #stand #anime #manga #shonen #hirohiko araki #stone ocean #jolyne kujo #jolyne cujoh #hermes costello #annasui #emporio #emporio alnino #jotaro kujo #jotaro #part 6 spoilers #part 6 #enrico pucci #pucci #dio #dio brando #star platinum #made in heaven #stone free

[archiveofidentityconstellations]

splat

six years old a good age it’s 4 o'clock arts and crafts time an open butterfly sits upon the table in front of me flat in construction paper  glitter shimmers in the afternoon light I’m not like other six year olds who delight in grime I’m proper I’m prim I’m good (You love me, right?) i don’t mash the glitter with my hand i press it into the mound just right but even still i can’t help but wiggle my fingers in the geode goo splat

-

i linger in front of the glass fingers idling on the steel barrier separating us  from below i consider hauling myself over the railing  throwing myself off, quick as a flash it’d be fitting let my mother witness  a spectacular show i keep my feet still students mill around me my mother is smiling body against concrete splat

-

“Have you ever thought of killing yourself?” Yes, next question.

“Have you ever made plans to kill yourself?” Yes, next question.

“Have you ever succeeded?” I’m still here. Stupid question.

-

the angry prison bars have been pressing up against my head for far too long  one day i’m going to slip through tiger orange and neon blue  it’s going to be beautiful it’s going to be terrifying it’s going to be glitter paint pressed against my fingers  and my mind will greet you and say, “splat.”

-

i’m crying in public i always promised myself i wouldn’t  prickly thirteen wouldn’t be pleased  but my feet stray close to the road i want to close my eyes and move faster than i have in my life just one moment just one car and pieces of me could be scattered among the sidewalk yet i doubt i would be at peace  still, an eyeball here a piece of hair there  it would be  a personal masterpiece  splat

.

I  Can’t  Go  On  Like  This

 .

I’m going to die.

-

my father is screaming  i press my palms  against my small ears i never think “somehow, i’ll get through this” I never think “we will survive this” no. this is reality. this is my reality. i’m five and i learn to accept this.

-

I can’t accept this. I’m going to kill myself, one way or another. It’s all too much. “You’re going to kill me,” I murmur into my paper, Watching their backs withdraw My reflection looks back at me Showering echoing steam Her eyes are sad “Honey,” she says, “you’re going to kill yourself.” I look down And watch the blood suck down the drain Each like a poppyseed  drip, drip, drip splat

-

I’m afraid of death more than anything. I’ve seen people die. I’ve felt their bodies go rigid, cold and unfeeling.  I remember holding my grandpa’s hand, And watching his soul leave his body. It was beautiful It was devastating I get a cat When I’m twenty-one My brain is not that old But I have enough school notes  To back up what they’re saying  She is small and black And I’m afraid she doesn’t love me I don’t force her to love me. I wake up from nightmares  Of her small black frame Being smashed against the cupboard Blood flowing out Of her bashed brain My feet crack her ribs And she suffocates to death But then I look over And she’s sleeping on my pillow  And her fur feels soft Maybe  She could love me I feel my tears  Piece out my eyes I’m getting messy splat

-

“I love you, sweetie” Yes, I know I don’t think you do, though You don’t know me People who know me  Can’t love me “When you were young,” my mother tells me Pumping gas into the car While the painted sky  Falls into violet dusk “You would get sick. He would throw fits and you would get a fever right away. I would tell him ‘don’t do it! she’ll get sick!’ but he did it anyways.” Yeah, I think. That’s because he doesn’t care. “I guess that’s why I made it so important to say things so lovingly,” she observes, periwinkles eyes shining  In the gas station light  'I don’t remember you,’ I want to say.  I don’t. She was there, but she was barring him off The only times I remember her was when he was off in jail And we all stayed together  And the older kids smiled. “I guess so,” I reply I muster up a smile i keep my words inside  squish down my tongue, b u r y i n g it splat

-

The glass shatters and I jump And immediately begin to cry It’s a cup My favorite cup My mother got it for my twelfth birthday Back when I still wanted tea parties And my American Girl dolls were still with me (They’re gone now After sitting in a garage for years Probably chewed up by rats I think about Samantha’s cheek Being bitten off my rodent teeth There goes my childhood He wouldn’t give us the key)  The cup is pink and white And has roses near the stem It’s a little stuffy but it makes me happy And I pretend to be important Each time I drink my hibiscus tea “You have three more,” my mother tells me While I’m crying  I shake my head  I’m fifteen and crying over the kitchen sink  But that doesn’t matter. That doesn’t matter.  The phone shatters near my head And he screams something while my mother steps to yell something back  But I’m not paying attention That was my phone  My baby sister’s phone She loves phones  His phone was right next to it Why did he pick mine? The vase shatters  And the water spills over the dining room floor Carpet It will stain Everything stains in this house My mother is trapped inside a circle of broken glass  And the pieces wink up at us Like diamonds with teeth splat

-

'I could take pills,’ I muse Sitting quietly Not vibrating  I’m perfectly normal Nobody would be scared of me 'Sleeping pills I could walk up to Safeway  And when I got back I could leave food and water out for the cats And get in bed  And never wake up’ I pick at my nails 'Well,’ I think,  'It’s a good alternative’  splat

-

My card says 'donor’ With a little red heart I hadn’t meant for it But while I filled out the paper I couldn’t help but think 'Maybe someone Could use these better than me’ I knew then  About my plans Or at least about my brain I’m probably going to die So I wasn’t surprised At the mistake Even though I put in the box “x” My pen was drippy Maybe it was fate? Maybe it bled  Maybe it’s too late splat

-

Please understand me I don’t want to die I’m even afraid of hell Which has mostly stopped me But look Maybe I’m selfish I probably am But I’m not going to survive this I can’t go on this way So I’ll sit back in bed Heart seizing and twisting in fright  And I’ll think back on my fingers in glitter  And my chest will gasp  And my mind will shudder  And the imaginary gun will shimmer black, cold against my brain and I’ll whisper, “Splat.”

#original #thoughts #depression #depression tw #suicide #suicide tw #tw #gore #gore tw #bit of an autobiography really #writing

[maricyn]

From a Distance (Ch. 2)

Author’s Notes: Alright, my dudes! Here it is! And this one reveals who the female stranger is ;) So, for the sake of surprises, I’m not gonna mention the pairings. Dive on in, and see for yourself~ ;)

Ch. 1: here.

( @ask-mari-katsuki , @ask--seunggillee , @ask--otayuri , @askyuukonishigori , @ask-georgi-popovich , @ask--grandpa-plisetsky , @askmichelecrispino , @askmilababicheva , @ask--emilnekola , @ask-takeshi-nishigori , @ask-minako , @ask-lilia-baranovskaya , @ask--jj , @ask-vik-tuuri , @ask--leoji, if I missed anyone, please tag them!)

(Amplify the angst by listening to this while reading the story.)

My legs felt like frozen cogs as I ran against the wind. There were miles and miles ahead of me, but I wasn’t stopping now. I refused to. I made a promise, after all.

 The whole time I was running, it felt like shards of glass were scratching at my face. I wasn’t even sure if I was choking on my own breaths or if there were two hands strangling me. It was nothing less than painful. I wanted to stop multiple times along the way, but I knew that the pain of regretting not telling him would be far more painful than any physical pain I’m feeling right now.

And that thought kept me going.

I was less than a block away, and his house was already showing up in my field of vision, but my strength was diminishing quickly. By the time I reached his front porch, I felt so weak that my legs were unable to support me, and I fell to the concrete floor. “Kolya?” asked a familiar voice ahead of me. I looked up to find Yakov, kneeling down to meet my eyes, a worried expression plastered on his face. “Kolya! You’re freezing!” I put on a shaky smile as he struggled to pick me up. “I made it,” I muttered in muddled whispers, right before my vision blurred and my body gave out.

The last thing I heard was Yakov screaming my name.

(Yakov)

His hefty body was hard to reposition, but not impossible. Well, not like it mattered. Impossible or not, I’m not about to let my best friend freeze to death. In terms of family, he might as well be the only one I had, aside from Lilia.

I gently laid him on my bed and pulled my warm covers over his icy body. He looked dangerously pale. Must be from the cold weather. But...my question is...how the hell did he get here just seconds after I did when I had twice the distance to cover? He couldn’t possibly have ran all the way from the restaurant...could he? But why? What was so important that it couldn’t have at least waited til tomorrow morning? I sighed away the questions piling up in my head. It’s not like I’ll get any answers until he’s conscious.

I quietly slip into the kitchen, the same questions still swirling in my mind. I  couldn’t help but feel slightly...enraged. How could he have been so...reckless? This isn’t like him...he could’ve died! If he did, I...I wouldn’t know what to do...

“You know, that clanking is pretty loud,” says an unknown female in a hushed voice. “You don’t want to wake him up, right?” I turned around in a flash, yielding a pan as a weapon. She had long, platinum blonde hair and hazel doe eyes that shone under the moonlight seeping in through the uncurtained windows. She was smiling a kind smile, and it was hard to believe she was here for any malice...but still. She is inside my house unauthorized. “What are you doing here?” I demanded in a stern, quiet voice. “Did you break in?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be standing out in the open, nor would I be talking to you,” she says matter-of-factly, her smile never fading. “So no, I didn’t. You left the front door open when you were dragging your little buddy in the other room.”

“His name’s Nikolai,” I nearly snarled. She returned with a grateful giggle. “Is that so? Well, thanks for telling me. The only clue I had of what his name could’ve been was this handkerchief.” She presented a neatly folded handkerchief in her dainty little hands, Nikolai’s initials printed in the corner. As my hand reached forward to grab it, she swung it away. I look up to find her smile gone. What’s left was a serious expression that silenced the thoughts in my brain. I cleared my throat and decided to be more understanding. “You want to return it yourself, don’t you?” She responded with a single nod and turned to leave.

“But first,” she began to speak once more, but without bothering to turn around and face me this time. I’m surprised she trusted me enough to not hit her right then and there. I’m surprised I didn’t. “But first, you two need to talk...so wake him up, okay? I’ll wait for him outside.” She leaves without saying anything else.

“That was weird,” I mutter to myself as I resume my search for a small pot to heat a can of soup up for Kolya. “But if she is right, that means Kolya has something to tell me.”

“Something important enough to risk his life for.” But what in the world could it be?

(Nikolai)

I wake up to find Yakov stirring a pot of steaming soup with a ladle on the other side of the room. He was holding a bowl. I wanted to make my existence known without startling him, but I didn’t know how. Any choice there was to make would startle him. Seems like I don’t have much of a choice here. I called out to him in a soft voice.

“Yasha,” this was when I noticed I could barely speak. I cursed myself for pushing it way too far just trying to get to him. It’s not like he would be gone if I just took it nice and slow. Well, it doesn’t matter. I can move my fingers and my arms. Those are all I need, along with a pen and paper, to tell him how I felt. Thankfully, I always bring some with me.

He jumped a little at the sound of my voice, which I’d have to admit was pretty adorable. His slicked back brown hair swayed as he turned to look at me. It seemed like he was going to cry for a split second until he returned to normal.

“Kolya,” his voice was softer than usual. He placed the bowl gently on the table and made his way towards me. He sat on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

I took out my pen and notepad, and scribbled a messy, “Better” on an empty page. Yakov gave me a worried look. I can tell that he just now realized it was hard for me to talk. I returned his worried look with an optimistic smile. He tried to mirror it but failed miserably.

“There was a girl,” he mumbles, seemingly in an attempt to distract himself and stray from the topic. “She claimed to have followed you...and said you had something to tell me.” I nodded nervously. I slowly sat up and stretched my weakened muscles. I picked up my pen and got ready to write a mile a minute.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” I jotted down the obvious. “Something I should’ve told you five years earlier.” He looked just as nervous as I was. “What is it?” he asked in a whisper.

“I love you,” I wrote out with shaking hands. “I love you so much, and I should’ve told you sooner, but then you found her so I just gave up, thinking it would go away...but it didn’t. I love you, I still love you, and I can’t stop. I’m sorry...”

Yakov looked at me in awe. “You’re...lying,” he claimed, his words trembling. “You have to be! You must be!” His eyes had a glint of fear in them...but what was he afraid of?

“I’m not,” I croaked out, using the remaining strength I had. “I truly love you, Yakov. With all my heart...”

He turned away from me and for the first time in years, I saw tears form in the corners of his eyes. “This isn’t right,” he says reluctantly, raising his voice. “This is wrong!”

“What if,” I nearly shouted back as a lump in my throat began to form. “What if...the definition of right started with us? It could! It could if you just give us a chance!”

“This isn’t wrong, Yasha,” I begged. “My feelings for you are anything but wrong! You can’t just--”

“I love Lilia,” he interrupted. “And your feelings aren’t going to change that.” My eyes go dark as his rejection rings through my ears. I feel like I could break at any moment...yet I still put on the same smile I put on everyday. The very smile that only existed because I had him with me...but that’s gonna change, isn’t it?

“Is that all you have to say?” he asked me in a whisper, his face still turned away from me. I spit out a reluctant yes, as I got off the bed and started putting on my coat. I could feel his longing eyes grazing my back, begging me to tell him everything’s going to be okay, just like I did the night he lost his father...but I couldn’t bring myself to face him anymore. “Kolya,” he calls out. And for a second, I felt like turning back and holding him in my arms, but what he said next stopped me.

“You’ll still be my right-hand man at the wedding...right?” I felt like he was mocking me...’right’ could’ve been us, but now it’s just me.

I closed my eyes when I turned to give him a smile. “Yes. You’re my best friend, after all.”

“How’d it go?” asked the girl as I glided past the front door, slamming it behind me. She was sitting on the steps. “Bad,” I replied, sniffling back the tears to keep them from flowing. I started making my way home, and she hurried after me.

“He loved you too,” she says softly and carefully.

“How would you know?”

“Because of the look in his eyes.”

“What?” I asked her rather harshly. “What does that even mean?”

“Lilia,” she replies, a smile tugging at her lips. “She had the same look.”

I sigh softly, only now realizing my abrupt behavior. “Sorry,” I mutter, my voice still a little hoarse. “I’m just...”

“It’s okay,” she says kindly. “I get it. Rejection isn’t easy.”

“But this is better than never getting to voice your feelings,” she added. “Trust me. I know.” I looked down to find her smiling kindly at me. This girl...stuck with me all throughout that mess. “Why?” I ask her, and from the glint in her hazel eyes, I knew I didn’t have to explain. “Because,” she starts. “Love is beautiful. Everyone deserves it, or at least a shot at it. Romantic or platonic, lover or not...it’s all love.” And I couldn’t help but think she was right.

“Say,” I spoke suddenly, almost startling her. “I never caught your name.” She giggles in response. “That's because I never gave it to you,” she sings cheekily.

She lets out one more loud laugh before she gave me her answer.

“It’s Dimitra.”

[To be Continued...]

#yoi #yuri on ice #lilia baranovskaya #yakov feltsman #nikolai plisetsky #yakpa #dimitra plisetsky #otayuri #viktuuri